Every morning whether the sun decides to come up over Bangalore or not, Baby Tiger, my golden orange tubby tabby will grab my lap the minute I start my journal. A purr of such astonishing sweetness begins its calm yodelling that I always forget it is a prelude to beseeching meows and a soulful look to remind me about breakfast.
As I write out my newest woes and worries, often those secreted gifts of joy somehow tumble out of the most dismal seeming day. After allowing an hour of writing, Tigs will start a gentle paw slapping for reminders. Kittles, her secretive, grey mother, who makes Tigs do all the begging, will wait till hunger overtakes her and then give out one small croak. Like most of their tribe, both Tigs and Kittles have wandered into the house, not waiting for the customary invitation and have settled down with no grouses except when a trip to the vet becomes unavoidable.
Tigs, small, tubby and ginger-gold welcomes laps, hugs and cuddles. Kittles is the suspicious sort, who hisses at petting, enjoys a permanent game of hide and seek and at night mysteriously drinks up most of the water holding the Jalaganga plant.
I had never really understood the term “living in the moment” to survive life’s snagged tooth, till Tigs and Kittles waddled into my home to teach me.
It means to snooze under the benevolent sunshine (or even on ice-cold days) for 16 to 18 hours daily, to wash each other up obsessively, trust no-one too much (says Kittles) while Tigs believes that every cuddle from life is worth trying out!
After three years of their amazing attendance, asthma has slunk into me and my horrified relatives badger me to fling out the asthma angels – supposedly the culprits. But while my African Violets might groan when Kittles nibbles at them, or the Jalaganga finds itself high and dry after she has had a drink, and my ferns may be squished under the corpulent ginger gold of Tigs I have no complaints.
In times of severe depletion of human decency that somewhat dampens the spirit, I can always expect instant healing from my asthma angels. With bliss bellowing at me in some perplexed kind of purring feline home remedy!