The Vacant Rooms of Summer

Our summer runaway plan used to be a trip to India every August to enjoy the rains and escape the 48th degree of heat. But with Mr. Covid hanging around a tad longer than required and the escape routes locked down for another season, we had to think of something “outside” the box while staying indoors.

And that's when we actually saw that strange ‘box’ in the reception area of our apartment that lazy afternoon. It was moving….and mewing!!!

A multicoloured Egyptian cat, (I named her Aisha) who has been living in our neighbourhood for quite some time now, had given birth to four kittens!!! A kind lady who feeds all the neighbourhood cats had given a place in the lobby for the mother and kittens, long before the Eid break started.

My boys and I kept visiting the cat family every vacant noon with some food for the mum and a string to play with for the kittens. Slowly the mum started allowing us to be around her kittens. The boldest one (maybe the oldest one) was a white kitten with some black and grey patterns on the head and a big heart-shaped black-grey fur tattoo on the side. She used to jump in and out of the box looking for some excitement. There was something deep in those yellow-green playful eyes. That kitten became our instant favourite and we named him Rumi, (as a tribute to my favourite poet) (We found out later that it's a girl! But we still kept the same name.)

The yellow and white one was called Samr (as an Arabic version of summer) and the multicoloured shy twins were called Mishka and Zain.

Every afternoon post lunch we used to go downstairs for some cat time. Aisha knew our scent and started leaving the kittens with me, the cat sitter and my two inquisitive assistants. Seeing us there everyday, the kind lady encouraged us to adopt a kitten or two. She was going to give away the rest. My boys just couldn't stop jumping with that thought! Why not!I contemplated in silence later that night. I had been considering getting a pet for quite some time now. The reason for my break from work this summer had been mainly to console myself after dealing with a major loss in life. And what could be better than pet therapy!

Rumi was the chosen one. First I began to bring her upstairs to our place for an hour every afternoon for her to get used to new surroundings. She was still on her mother's milk. We made a cozy little basket for her to sleep in and kept aside some cute toys that were supposed to be given away this summer. After her play date, I used to drop her back in her mother's arms and she used to go and get cuddled into the family again.

But soon, the other tenants from the building started to complain about the inconvenience of having cats in the lobby. The kind lady told me to decide fast. We didn't have much time.

I picked Rumi that very instant and took her home. It was getting dark. The sun’s fading glow reflected in Aisha’s teary eyes.I think she trusted me with Rumi. As little sharp claws held on to my neck, she was shivering…

That night I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking of the look in Aisha’s eyes and the trembling paws of Rumi as she mewed silently as though she was crying. Separating her from her mother somehow kept reminding me of my own longing for my mother. I got up and took Rumi downstairs in the middle of the night. Aisha was actually waiting. Rumi flung herself at her mother as I gently kept her on the floor. Aisha took her back.

I went back to tossing and turning on the bed, sleepless all night with anxiety under my pillow.

Next morning was the main day of Eid. The tenants could wait no longer. The cats were going to be on the streets. Luckily I reached at the right time. I took Rumi in my arms. The next minute, I kept her back near her mum. This time Rumi kept looking at me with hopeful eyes. Aisha, with a serious look quietly walked away, as if to make it easier for Rumi and me to make the decision.

Rumi followed me. I took her along. We did not look back.

At night I wept silently in bed. I wasn't sure if I was ready for a big new responsibility whilst dealing with my own fragile mind. The nightmare that used to haunt me, about having a third child when my mother is not by my side to support me, was probably this event! But it felt like this was meant to be...

Rumi is about four months old now. The vet confirmed. We back- calculated and realised that her birthday must have been sometime around the 20th of June, my older son’s birthday!!! Thus Rumi and Ary share their birthdays.

All the vacant rooms of summer and of life in general have been filled by the lively presence of Rumi.

Once shy and shivering, she has now started showing her wild gal side, a combination of her Egyptian (sometimes a little sphinx) mum and her unknown Arabian/Turkish tramp dad!!! She loves to stare and growl like a tigress at the laughing doves on our terrace, who usually come in for a sip-n-dip at the bird bath I made for them this summer. Her favourite napping place keeps changing every month. Currently she sleeps on a toy box, next to some soft toys on the shelf in the boys room. She does her graceful catwalk not only on the 100mm parapet wall but also on the 50mm thick railing!!! She goes to enjoy her secret life on our neighbours terrace and shamelessly rolls in the dust in shapeless ease. She comes back with an innocent face only when she wants food! She sips on the dove-flavoured water from the bird bath and plays with bird feathers fallen on the terrace. Oh how I wish to have the secret life she enjoys!

Once in a while when we look down from the terrace, I see her mum far away walking mutely, on the dry leaf mulch under the Ghaf trees, living her street life with only one other kitten by her side, who managed to survive with her and who is half the size of Rumi… and then I believe in destiny all over again.