Mitty was walking down the side of the street. Lights from
nearby houses falling on the street formed patches of yellow and black. Mitty
kept walking with a blank look in her eyes, one paw after another in a
catwalk, tail held high over her body, but a languid pace. This was not the
first time when she felt like this. The night was dark as any other. And a
storm was brewing inside her...
When the steps became meaningless, Mitty stopped and jumped
up on a low boundary wall of a house. She settled herself on the wall for the
time being, tail dangling below, thoughts refusing to settle down. Two bikes
went past. Mitty was blank. Why is it that every time she tries to snuggle
close to her dad he flashes back at her. Mitty is hardly a year old and is yet
to realize that tom cats don’t like their children. She doesn’t know that to
human beings her species is known as cats, the territorial independent sorts
who don’t care about their family.
Mitty is yet to learn many lessons in life. This storm of
thoughts is just one of those few that will bring a “no-nonsense” look on her
cute and innocent face, and will help to build a “no compromise” personality in
place of her pure heart. Soon she’ll learn to snap back too, sometimes in
defence, and sometimes out of “no love”. Her mother, Chinks, is her only
refuge, but she’ll leave her soon. Mitty doesn’t know all these yet. She looks
on, sitting on the wall with bright big questioning eyes, wondering if she’s
not a good kitten. The storm refused to die down. If she could cry like human
kids, she would have poured her heart out.
Meeeaaaooow!
Her voice echoed in the neighbourhood. Once, twice, thrice
...few more times. Someone opened a window and shouted at her. There was no
place to go. Mitty jumped on to the cornice of the house and on to the roof. It
was time for a lonely walk in the dark, till the storms in her heart went to
sleep.
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