One Fish Bold Fish Red Fish Blue Fish

Pale as pale can be rested the Beta, in a tiny bag the size of a twelve-year-old's palm. His dramatic yet limp fins lay clumped together in an attempt to keep within the water line. I say 'rested', as though he had a say in the matter. The slightest movement would have thrown his breathing resilience out of the water and into a tiny pocket of air keeping the bag afloat. Bred to be magnificent and bold, the Beta lay imprisoned with his talents, teased by those around him. He was, in a way, a fish out of water. A bird hung from a just-so cage in a forest of freedom.

Swooped out of his miserly dwelling with a swift exchange of cash, he was bobbed along to what strove to be liberation of his beauty and personality. Once nudged out of his solitary confinement, he sprung into his own, opening out each crumpled, folded fin and swishing it within the cool water. He swam, for the first time in far too long, first cautiously and then carelessly, around his new home.

As he breathed new meaning into his small, yet flamboyant body, colour returned where there was once none. As I watched him, more captivated than I've been with any form of humanity, I saw shades of red I didn't know any fish could parade. With a natural, effortless iridescence, he flashed reds from wine to clotted blood, adding to the intimidation that comes with facing him directly. But he wasn't done just yet. Shooting from his body, radiating outward through his broad, red fins that resemble exaggerated, Seussian feathers, were streaks of electric blue. He was now complete - radiant, gorgeous and graceful. How often are creatures of terror this beautiful?

I dipped a finger into the water to test its temperature, only to alert him. He responded immediately, encircling my immersed fingertip, sizing it up, before drawing himself up to his full, undiluted proportions. His gills stood on end, like the fur on an agitated cat's tail, and all his fins were drawn to attention, perpendicular to his body, making him fill more of the bowl than I thought he could. Although he kept his distance, I knew not to invade his privacy or doubt his ability to protect it.

Today, Red is accustomed to my face, which must seem so much rounder to him from within. He swishes his fins now in recognition of me and my fingers, all the more so just before a meal. I have a tiny monster for family in my hostel room, and I'd like to believe he thinks of me with similar fish-like affection, even if it's merely his acknowledgment of my existence as a giant and harmless food dispenser. 

We went on a road trip

 

We went on a road trip today. Well, sort of. I call anything longer than a one hour drive a road trip. We didn't know where we were going. We woke up early, we made sandwiches, we took music and our dog, Chaplin and set off. It was raining. The cats had already started falling. By the time we hit the outskirts, both dogs and cats were falling. It was exhilarating. Wind blowing, rain slapping you in the face, dog drooling into your lap, it was great. The trees were greens of every kind and the rain made them glisten. Ah, what sights they were to see. I will continue speaking of the trip as the photos below go by.

We were driving around looking for a stream or river we could take a dip in and set up our little picnic basket. Since it was raining, I wouldn't dream of taking the camera outside. So all the photos here are taken from the car. I wish I could share with you images of the green, rain-covered beauty. But these are all I got.

At the toll naka. We bought the fruit assortment. A necessity if you go on one of these trips.

But not from the lady in the picture below....

...from him.

We passed a small village. Look at the colours! I want a cute little cottage like this some day .

Mood was lifted even higher when I heard a song I love after ages: Roobaroo!

Spot=found. We parked by this river and disembarked. Chaplin jumped in immediately and swum swum swum. Then the two of us ran up and down the wide, wet, empty road. We also noticed that we hadn't brought the sandwiches along. We ate non-sandwich things.

We saw kingfishers (pied kingfisher too), bee eaters, egrets and cranes (see next post), darters and lapwings. Also saw train going by. Also crabs, frogs and a very cool water jumping spider.

The very first picture I allowed my sister to take from my camera. Note Chaplin on my lap enjoying the rain (and digging his claws into my thighs) .

We did some more driving around and stopped at another place for dipping-into-the-river purposes. Somewhere along the way we crossed this bridge. This man was standing on it. Beside him was another man fishing off the side of the bridge.

Somewhere near the bridge.

What I love about the outskirts: no traffic. You can stop bang in the middle of the road to take a picture and you won't be holding up any traffic. And even better, there aren't any cars in front of you ruining your picture.

Completely drenched to the bone, we turned homeward. Chaplin had a nice, sleepy drive. He's still zonked from all the swimming.

gummy bears

Solid or Liquid?

Sleeping here in front of me,
Is Pasha- curled up awkwardly.
His hind legs stretch far out,
His tail's nearly in his mouth.
His forelegs emerge from under his bottom,
It's a wonder how there he got 'em.
Momentarily he opens his eyes,
And then sleepily he sighs.
He lies curled up on a foot of mine.
I wonder if he's got any spine. 

My latest muse

Hobbes.

Hobbes has an incredibly sane personality for a cat. It often seems like her sole principle in life is to live and let live. She's content in her own, simple existence. It's just her and this incredibly fascinating world that just happens to be inhabited by a bunch of others; Who are inconsequential. She's a lot like her mother, Chelku. Curious about everything, very agile, unimposing, affectionate, intelligent and beautiful. She's the kind of cat who will keep you company without making her presence obvious. She loves to be pet; her weak spot is just under the ear, running down the back of her neck. A good itch there gets a satisfied, low, droning purr from her. She's also surprisingly unfazed by water, unlike all my other cats. I've seen her sitting nonchalantly in the basin as water was dripping onto her back from the leaking tap. 

Each cat is just so different. They all have unique personalities, much more complex than ours. Trying to understand my cats is something I never tire of. There's something quirky, special, unexpected, amazing about them all. It's so easy to dismiss the fact that there's more to them than what meets the eye. It's the unknown 'x' about them, that missing piece in the puzzle that intrigues me no end. I don't think I'll ever get bored of a cat. There's always something new to discover- and it's just as surprising every time.

When you're unwell, the first thing someone would tell you is to get some rest. Little do they realize how complicated it is to fall asleep, especially with a cold. Steadily recovering from my stubborn cold, I face this problem every night. Take a couple of nights ago for instance. After a long, tiring day, I decided to turn in. I got into my blanket and so did Mili, where she curled up at my chest. Soon after, I was hit suddenly by an organ-rattling bout of cough. Poor Mili got up and shifted lower to sleep between my legs. After the cough passed, my right nostril blocked up. So I turned over onto my left side, displacing Mili again. Undeterred, she waited for me to settle down and then lowered herself between my legs once more. And then, the right opening up, my left one got blocked. Exasperated, I laid down flat on my back. Mili now sat up beside me, eyeing me for any hopeful signs of immobility. Not risking having to get up again, she made herself comfortable on the blanket at my waist. At this point, my nose completely blocked up and I couldn't breathe. Annoyed, I inhaled deeply; but that only made it worse and lead to more sneezing and wheezing. In addition to that, my head felt like a ton of bricks and my eyes burned in their sockets. I gripped my neck from behind with my cold hands searching for some warmth- and viola! i could breathe! So, by propping my head up like that, breathing wasn't a problem- falling asleep was. I thought I'd get a glass of water since I wasn't getting anywhere trying to sleep. So I got up, effectively pulling the blanket from under Mili. Slowly she raised herself- stretching her legs, she arched her back as high as it would go before seating herself down again on the now ruffled up blanket. She looked at me with disapproving, yet sympathetic eyes. Her tail was twitching. The unfortunate bit was knowing she'd have to get up again when I returned. Half-expecting it, she rose readily when I took hold of the blanket. Both of us, too tired then to crib over comfort, dozed off soon after. I awoke with her still by my side. I admire that cat's patience. 

the only problem with kittens is that they eventually grow into cats.

On their first birthday, I reminisce about  the cute and cuddly, little kittens that my two cats- Misha and Pasha were. Now, they're probably teenagers in their own way and would be thoroughly embarrassed to have these pictures of them displayed to all and sundry. But there're not going to know, are they? It's one of the few liberties I take as their chief petter; they don't let me have very many...

And here's what they look like now:

Oh well. 

the week cat-wise

 

Hobbes was in a contemplative mood.

Sony(R) had a fit of motherliness and smothered Juno(L) incessantly for two days.

We watched the Graham Norton Show with Misha.

 

I did some doodling in my English textbook.

 

And a whole lot of studies.

Who wants to go out?!

Those words set a dog's heart racing with such immeasurable joy that their body twitches with excitement. Did I say twitches? Pardon me, that's an understatement. Make that swings wildly from side to side. When I pick up the leash to take Chaplin out for a walk, I can hear the sound of his claws against the floor scrambling towards me. He wags his tail so hard, his whole backside sways two and fro while he circles me expectantly. At this point he's walking round fast, moving his hips continuously with his head bobbing up and down as he tries hard to suppress his squeals of joy. It takes a few moments to get the chain around his anything-but-stationary head. Leash in place, he begins to jump on me, clawing me for delaying any further and steadily begins to bark his head off. After trying desperately to calm down this hyper-active dog; and succeeding momentarily, I open the door. This sets him off again and sends tremors of happiness through his body and he resumes his dance. And then I brace myself. Fwoosh! He leads me bounding down the stairs, nearly tripping me at every second step. If you don't run down with him, he'd be flying you like a kite. This going down the stairs part of the walk is full of loud, incessant, maniacal barking that puts mortal fear into any passerby's heart. Once down the stairs, he makes a frantic dash for the gate, as though fearing I'll change my mind and yank him back upstairs. I use the word yank since that's the only way to make him go anywhere he doesn't wish to be. Only and only once he's outside the gate is he at peace.

There's a peanuts comic strip that I identified with 100%. Charlie Brown, I couldn't have said it any better.

nonchalant

pet portraits

24th june

My pets are my family. There's no physical barrier that makes me love them any less than my human family. It's hard for many people to understand the equation I have with them, the bond that I share with them. But I love each and every one of them with all my heart and to lose any of them hurts just as much.

A freak accident in the bathroom caused Chelku to spill a bottle of phenyl. She landed in the pool of phenyl. She had the concentrate smeared all over her fur. In that state of panic, she began licking herself, hoping to get the sticky fluid off her skin and fur. She began breathing heavily and frothing at the mouth. Taking the advice of our vet, we immediately rushed her to the animal hospital.

She spent the day at SPCA. She was given antidotes and enema to flush out the poisoning. Although she seemed okay, we were forced to leave her there for the night. The next day, things weren't any better. If anything, it had gotten worse. She was terribly and utterly weak. Back home, she refused to walk. She'd plonk wherever she was standing. She'd respond to her name with half open eyes, eyes begging you to let her go back to sleep. She wouldn't move once she was seated unless she needed to use the litter. But she hadn't the energy to go there either. She relieved herself where she was and just moved slightly aside to sit down again. I moved her to a clean spot and left her there. In the evening, she was running a temperature. She hadn't moved from that spot either. We decided she had to see the vet, and pronto.

It was after our visit to the vet that I really began to panic. She was 104 degrees. The maximum for a cat is 105. He gave her an antibiotic shot to get the temperature down and some b-complex vitamins to boost her up. This whole episode had made her anaemic. The stubborn liquid hadn't fully come off yet. The vet said that poisoning rarely led to fever; which meant it may have spread to her liver and kidneys. Cats, unlike some animals, have no ability to flush out these harmful toxins. They need help. We were advised to force feed her fluids and egg whites to get it out of her system. We needed to keep trying to get the phenyl off her skin, or it would seep in through her skin too. I was inexplicably worried about her.

Back home, we got right down to business. With a syringe, we fed her bit by bit one whole egg white and some water. We gave her a sponge and dried her down. She seemed a little more energetic than before, but there was no drastic change. We left her to rest and decided to come back in a bit and check on how she's doing. We kept tabs on her.

When we came back in, after dinner, we picked her up to see how she was doing. She was weaker than ever, tired and frail. It was so painful to see our spritely cat in such a vulnerable condition. We kept petting her, feeding her some water. Then, her face began to feel cold. Her face, her neck. She was so feeble, she couldn't hold her head up. I have never in my life felt so scared. Her underbelly and back were still warm. Her nose was pale, her eyes glazed over. The spark in those beautiful, gleaming green eyes had gone. We called our vet in desperation, not knowing what to do. The cold was spreading and I was absolutely petrified; we all were. We were fearing the worst and we were petrified because we had no idea what to do. As advised, we wrapped her up in warm sheets and a sweater. She began to kick frantically, as though she was trying desperately to fight the death that was coming her way. I don't remember what was going through my mind. It was spinning like a crazy top. But it was slowly becoming evident that there was nothing we could do. I found myself whispering to her,"fight it Chelku, you can get out of this." I felt so utterly helpless. Then suddenly, she began to breathe heavily; then her breathing started slowing down fast. Her body was almost completely cold. And then, in a moment, she went cold, her breathing stopped, her lips and nose turned blue, the light left her eyes...forever. We frantically tried to pump her heart, blow into her mouth, rub her body....but it was all futile. that was it.

I saw the life leave my darling, little by little. I saw her suffer. I saw her die. What had just happened was irreversible. I just wanted those two days back. I wanted them back so bad. I just wanted to go back and avoid everything that caused this to happen. I couldn't digest what was right before my eyes. The shock was too much. Just two days; just two days was all it took to grab her away from us. To grab her away in the most unfair, untimely and cruel way. Chelkamma-the sweetest cat I'd known, was gone. What did she do to deserve this? How could we have stopped this from happening? Why did she have to suffer this poisoning? A million thoughts were racing through my mind. As I saw her, just lying there, I felt heartbroken, sad, angry, stupefied, confused, helpless and lost. After a few hours of crying, I felt numb in the mind. I couldn't cry anymore. I couldn't think of it. I felt so detached. I felt she deserved more grieving, but I couldn't force it out of myself. I wanted to weep but I couldn't. I was numb.

Writing this article has not been easy. I get goosebumps when I think of those 45mins we spent with her before she left us. The 45mins that felt like eternity. The 45mins I wished never ended. I cried today, after days. Reliving all that happened mortifies me. I'll never come to terms with the fate she had to face.

The one question now, that's recurrent in my mind is WHY don't people know how deadly phenyl can be?? Every household in India uses phenyl for their cleaning purposes. There isn't even a warning on the back of the bottle! In fact, if it is so lethal, WHY isn't the use of it banned?? I appeal to all of you who have pets at home; Please chose a cleaner devoid of phenyl or similar chemicals. All pet owners want the best for their pets. None of them would intentionally let something remotely close to this happen. At the end of the day, it boils down to the one statement, "if only we knew." So do not be ignorant! Please! Do what's best for those you love.