The unlikely Kumbalayla Mela

When she came into our lives, she was the size of my palm. She looked like a small piece of cloud. Our little kitten. I wanted to call her ‘Subbi’, she looked like one. Very chubby. We didn’t name her for a long time as we were debating which name to go with since there were one too many options. To me she came as surprise when I came back home from my outing and saw her all cuddled up in a corner. I was always a ‘dog’ person and never really liked cats. They seemed to me like these ‘know-all’, cold, distant socialites that you bump into in random parties. But this one looked so irresistible. I was initially irritated but couldn’t stop myself from liking her as she seemed like little piece cloud floating inside the house. Grey, fluffy with yellow-orange bright eyes and small black nose. Persian, full of grace.

Finally we decided on the name. ‘Layla’, it was. Though according to me ‘Subbi’ suited her better. Very poised and aristocratic. She never liked anyone petting her. She came to us when she was hungry and ate only what was required to keep her beauty intact. Her personality was so well defined that she was like this ‘prim and propah’ aunt around the house.

Then came this alpha male, Kumba. His name suited him very well. He was always sleeping, hence the name Kumba, short-form of Kumbakarna. Very good-looking, strong and stately. In his head he was a lion. That’s how he walked. Not in the least fussy unlike Layla. Always craved attention. How two Persian cats can be so different from each was a little surprising!

We decided to make them friends as it was easier to maintain them that way. So the attempt began in earnest. She, Layla, didn’t like the idea. But our Kumba was all set to woo this beautiful damsel. She sat in a corner, very upset, grumpy and angry. And he waited for her with baited breath hoping she would respond to his advances but sadly to no avail.

In all this drama, the most emotionally disturbed soul was my husband. I had to console him repeatedly saying that all love stories do not have happy endings. Please relax. Let’s give them some more time. Maybe they will get around. Even now there are times when he gets introspective and ponders as to where we went wrong in our efforts to bring them together. Then with a sigh he reconciles and grumbles ‘life is so unpredictable, after all, phew!’