A Non-Lazy Sunday Afternoon

 “Akka (transl.: ‘Elder sister’ in Tamil) come quick,” the knocking at my hostel room’s door was becoming loud and impatient. 

“Who is it?” I answered, pulling the covers off my legs. It was one of those lazy-Sunday-afternoons. I had finished off my weekend tasks, had a hearty lunch - courtesy of the ‘Biriyani Corner’, spoke to my mom about the Sunday service and was lying down to watch a movie. 

“Akka it’s me Shivi,” she answered back. I opened the door. 

“What’s going on Shivi? Are you okay?” I looked my junior up and down. 

“Can you come out?” she asked, “It’s important.” I raised my eyebrows, there goes my movie time! 

When a junior comes to see you, it’s mostly because of some guy problem or some homework issue or some gossip-misunderstanding-trust-issue between best friends – so that’s what I expected Shivi to tell me. Instead, she’d taken me up to her third floor room and opened the door, asking me to go inside. 

“Oh my God,” the words were mine. In a corner of the room, was a pile of clothes on which a visibly tired cat was lying down with three lumps under her. “Is that…” my voice trailed off. 

“We went for an outing and came back to see this. We don’t know what to do,” replied Shivi. Great! I feed strays once in a while and now my juniors think I’m an expert on cats, was my first thought. I took a deep breath. The mother cat wasn’t even fazed about the commotion near her and by the looks of it, had no intention of moving. 

“Okay, it looks like she’s only been here for a few hours,” I told Shivi and her four puzzled roommates. “She needs rest for now and if we disturb her, she may attack us.” Hearing annoyed sighs around the room, I continued, “Does anyone have a non-washed bed-sheet or a large towel?” The five kept exchanging glances. “Girls, it’s not for sale; it’s to let,” I tried to explain, “just for a few hours.” 

“I have one here,” said a voice, “it’s torn and I don’t want it back,” she said. 

“You’re sure?” I asked. 

The girl hesitated for half-a-beat “Yes, I’m sure.” 

“Atta girl, thank you very much.” I gave her a side-hug, took the sheet, folded it in half and strung it onto the bedroom window just above the pile of clothes. The mother cat had opened her eyes, meowed a few times and I had avoided her glances. When the folded sheet hid her from the rest of us, she stopped meowing. She must’ve understood that we were trying to help her. 

“Now what Akka?” Shivi asked me. 

“Now, we wait till the mother cat can walk outside the room.” I said, and told the girls to avoid that corner and how proud I was that they didn’t toss the cat – kittens and all, out of their room at the first opportunity they got. The girls had guilty looks pasted all over their faces – or maybe not! 

Three hours later, I walked into the same room and took off the bed-sheet cover. The girls had told me that the mother cat had ventured out and since the kittens were light sleepers, I knew we had to work fast. I’d borrowed a cardboard box from the stationary, cut off its top and put the folded bed-sheet inside. The 3 balls were sound asleep. I picked one up gently – it stirred and went still again. I placed it down on the sheet and did the same for its siblings. 

“Meow,” I heard scratches at the door. 

“Girls,” I commanded my juniors, “distract that cat and try getting it into another room for five minutes.” The girls leapt into action – two held the door and two dialed friends. 

“Dei (transl.: a slang used to refer to friends, in Tamil) Thiru, come and call this cat away, we’re trying to get her babies out,” she rapidly said into her phone. A few seconds passed before the room next to ours bustled with excitement. Some of those girls shooed the mother cat away to the far end of the corridor and into the storage area. 

“We’re ready Akka,” they said. Alright, let’s do this!  

I picked up the box holding the kittens and stepped outside the room. The mother cat’s furious cries were echoing down the hallway. “Okay, make sure she doesn’t scratch anyone when she comes back to your room to check on her babies.” I told the girls, “We can lead her to her kittens later.” I brought the box down to the ground floor and placed it under the stairs. Half the mission was successful, now for the hard part. 

Ten minutes later, “Alright, let the cat out,” I told the girls standing guard. They opened the door and a black streak shot past them – towards me. I stepped inside the room and waited for the mother cat to come in. She stopped mid-stride when she entered and immediately started calling out – it must've been to the kittens. She was running under the beds, frantic, searching for them. I called to her with a plate of milk. She didn’t buy it. “It’s okay come on,” I was talking to the Mama cat, “I know where your babies are, let me show you.” I heard giggles around the room and realized how ridiculous the entire scene was. Then again, you never know; a cat who stays inside a University might actually know English! 

I picked up the plate and walked out of the room, looking straight into the Mama cat’s eyes. She followed me out the door as I played the pause-and-wait game - yes, the one the entire cat family exhibits. Before she knew it, she was on the ground floor. I placed the plate full of milk next to the cardboard box while she took cautious steps towards me. Backing away, I patted the box and she began sniffing it, only to jump in and lick those precious babies. 

“Meow,” she said in between her licks. 

“You’re welcome,” I said back to her and high-fived Shivi.