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Sundays

There was a time when I waited for Sunday. After a week of work, and I worked hard, a day of rest  was very welcome. I loved to sleep.  I am not an atheist, and I go to church maybe once a year for  midnight mass on Christmas eve. So I'm not a churchgoer basically. Therefore Sundays did not mean  that I was seated in the pews in church listening to the pastor's sermon.  The pastor, in fact,  would not recognise me until my sister, who goes more often to church, introduced me as her brother  after Christmas Eve mass. I also had a problem sleeping and would lie awake at nights trying desperately trying to fall asleep. I tried counting sheep and it never worked. I also tried those sleeping videos on YouTube. I listened  \ and felt bored. They were not music I was familiar with and they kept my eyelids firmly apart. Even a safe  tranquillizer that my doctor prescribed did not have any effect. The on...
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Conversation with the Cat


"Why don't you get an A.C.?" asked my male black cat lazily chewing on one of my socks.

"Will you stop gorging on that sock? It happens to be my best pair," I shouted exasperated.

"I will, if you get an A.C.," the cat replied coolly.

"But we already have one!" I exclaimed.

"Better still get another, or at least switch on the one you claim to have," the cat said unperturbed starting to chew on the pillow.

"Not the pillow again," I said agitatedly as I switch on the air conditioner.

"What's wrong with this pillow?" asked the cat innocently, as he set his round green eyes at another. "You want me to chew that one?"

"Not a single one! You should be ashamed of snacking after lunch," I barked.

"Woof! Woof!" He replied wagging his tail.

"Are you trying to imitate a dog?" I asked aghast.

"Why not? Every dog has his day!"

"But, but you've just had chicken for lunch!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, but it was not grilled chicken," he said smacking his chops.

"You want grilled chicken?" I demanded.

"With some white wine please," he said nonchalantly.

"Anything else your Highness?" I asked scornfully.

"And, fire the cook; she doesn't know anything about cooking chicken."

"And, who will cook then? Will You?" I asked.

"These paws aren't meant for cooking, almost like These Boots Are Meant For Walking!" he replied.

"You mean like Jessica Simpson?" I asked surprised.

"Yes, I adore her shorts and sexy walk!" he said with a purr.

"You like females don't you?" I asked meanly.

"Don't you?" he retorted.

"Er .... er," I mumbled.

"Don't stutter," the cat, said crossly, "You haven't got your tongue twisted in your back teeth!"

"I don't have many teeth left now," I replied glumly.

"What would you do with them anyway? The chicks wouldn't dine with you anyway," he said contemptuously.

"Chicks?" I asked, "I'm not a predator!"

"All those with a roving eye say so," he said making his point.

"I have the roving eye! I'm not a cat like you," I protested.

"Cat's have roving eyes only for prey," he replied.

"Pray? You mean you pray too!"

"Haven't you heard of the Cat Goddess, Bastet, in ancient Egypt," he questioned.

"That was before I was born," I pointed out.

"Oh! I forget you don't have nine lives like we do," he replied tartly.

"What in heaven's name do you do in nine lifetimes?"

"Oh! It's trial and error mostly," he replied modestly.

"How is that?" I asked.

"Finding an excellent home with a lot of female cats, a good cook, plumbing and A.C.," he sighed contentedly and finished chewing up my socks.


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Location: Calcutta, West Bengal, India

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Sundays

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Post a Comment
Read more