The Cat who showed me My Inner Attic
When I worked in a newspaper many years ago, there was a little cattery behind my office, which housed a 100 odd cats and kittens. When the rodents and rats, the rubble and the rust began to sour the workplace, with umpteen problems, malignancies and messes, I began to visit the cattery every evening. There the atmosphere of a Zen temple prevailed and I got back my peace and power.
The most intriguing and unnerving cat in that monastery of meowing Zen monks was a cat I named Mohanthal. Mohanthal is the sweet my mother made for Diwali, our festival of lights. It was a dark brown, orange and grey sweet made of sugar or jaggery, wheat, nuts and loads of butter, and it was the same color of the cat I named after it.
Mohanthal was the loner of the pack. She always sat alone, snoozed alone, kept aloof and seemed to have the look of a cat who truly did not need anyone else in the world! Solitude should have been her real name. The minute I reached the place I sought out Mohanthal who would be sitting on the most frightening ledge, edge of the roof hangout, where no one could reach her or touch her!
Receive EXCLUSIVE blogging assignments via our weekly email newsletter
Join over 16,500 bloggers and subscribe to our mailing list to receive NEW and EXCLUSIVE blogging assignments, giveaways and news.
Thank you for subscribing. Your weekly email blogging assignment email will be delivered every Monday.
Something went wrong.