“A lot done, already. Hmm… A hopeless case”, thought the shop owner, surveying a potential prey.
Anne, adjusted the weight of her shopping bags as she scanned a vase. “He better love all this”, she thought desperately. She envisaged herself in the new lingerie, the shimmer of the candle light and the fragrance of fresh lilies.
A text message broke her trance.
“I’m back. I think we need to talk. Not sure if this is working out. Where are you?“
Anne slowly placed the vase on the shelf and turned to leave.
“Like I thought, hopeless”, concluded the shop owner.
Lastly, Anne wore the high heel shoes, the ones to be stripped off first. The mirror reflected a girl with blood-red lips and smoky eyes, someone oddly familiar to her.
She blankly stared into her mug as she stirred the milk and coffee. The swirling white milk reminded her of the path to the hillock, behind her home, in the country. Her eyes closed to picture the simpler, happier times.
“Candy! You’re up!”, called a gruff voice.
Anne became Candy, as she walked up to the pole. Tonight, the stage would be her hillock and the pole, a beautiful tree.
Little Anne touched the bubbles on the freshly watered soil, within the neatly arranged pots, in her grandma’s green house. Suddenly she cried, “Look, grandma! Squibbly things”. Towering behind her, grandma saw the squirming worms in a pot. She laughed and said, “Squiggly, honey! Not squibbly. Don’t worry. They’re plants’ friends”. Sheepishly, Anne enunciated, “Squi-GG-ly”.
Anne viewed the overgrown state of the, once perfect, green house. She looked at her grandma, whose cane, now, served as her third leg, and said, “I’ll fix this, Gran”. Grandma beamed and said, “I’m sure the squibbly things have missed you, dear”.
A honeymoon suite’s mirror, reflected the love emanating from the couple. “Love you”, she whispered. Her husband looked deep into her eyes and kissed her passionately.
The couple celebrated their 10th anniversary in the very same suite. The mirror now showed a worried looking plump lady, sitting on the bed and her balding husband working at the desk, with his laptop. “Think Anne is OK?”, she asked. Without looking at her he replied, ‘Just a cold! She’ll be fine”.
With work and worry towering between them, the bed in that honeymoon suite failed its purpose for the very first time.
That morning, I was woken up by a distant sound. I lazily got up and went to my balcony to take a look. Although I could localize the sound, I couldn’t find its producer. After a while, I went on ahead with my day knowing that the mother cat would probably find her kitten calling out to her.
I was shocked to hear the call still echoing through my hostel walls, as I returned that evening. My neighbor, whom I shall refer to as InKLa, (Incredibly Knowledgeable Lass) also found the situation alarming. So we set out to find the kitty, determined to rescue it.
After a while of hunting, we discovered its location. The kitten hid in a small pit, meowing its lungs out, calling its mother for help. We tried (actually InKLa did) to catch the kitty, but the little thing was too fast and ran into a pipe that opened into the pit, making it impossible for us to reach it. InKLa suggested that I bring a basket for the kitten, so I ran up to my room, in the second floor, to get it. By the time I found one, InKLa was back, grinning widely, holding the kitten safely in her arms. The kitten sat silently, clearly paralyzed with fear. The poor thing!
She released it in my room and said, “Lets call her ‘Saki'”. “Her???”, I asked. InKLa turned to leave and said, “She is certainly not going to let us check her ass out at this point, so let’s just assume that Saki is a she”. I laughed and agreed.
Saki is a Japanese word. While ‘Sa‘ means blossom, ‘ki‘ means hope. Our Saki certainly had a hope to survive.
Saki was absolutely scared that evening. She hid under one of the tables in my room and started her distress calls again. Without InKLa, I was totally at a loss to find a solution to calm her down. I took a cardboard box and placed my kitty doll inside it. I hoped that Saki would find my kitty doll to be good company. Lame huh? Please don’t judge me. I was desperate to find a solution. After all, the other hostel mates could complain about me for housing a stray kitten.
After a few Internet searches, I found some music, on Youtube, to calm and relax cats!!! I am certainly not joking. I started playing one such music and sat in the middle of my room, not moving around much. Magically, Saki started to calm down and dared to take a peek from under the table. Slowly, she started to explore my room and I still sat there, like a statue, trying my best not to alarm her. Incredibly, Saki loved my kitty doll. She kept visiting the doll often and rubbed against its soft fur. I felt sad. May be this poor kitten was missing her mother.
The next two days went in a blur. Saki would play all night, not letting me sleep. There is only one room with an attached balcony for each person in my hostel, so there was no escaping from this kitty. She would jump on me when I lay down and scare me. Although I enjoyed it in the beginning, I started going crazy without a proper sleep. InKLa offered to help out the next night and took Saki to her room. I must admit, I slept like a baby that night. I had never realized the importance of a good sleep before.
The way the hair stood on InKLa’s head, the next morning, revealed how well she had slept the previous night. During the mornings, Saki (the sleep destroying monster) slept peacefully, looking like an angel. I must admit that I was tempted to jump on her too. Ha Ha! Here is a photograph of Saki peacefully sleeping on my doll. I think she feels Secure near soft and furry things. Isn’t she cute?
InKLa and I realized that it wasn’t healthy for a little kitten to be locked inside a room all the time. So we decided to give her up for adoption. It was a hard decision to make, but it was the best option for Saki and our sleep. The very next day, InKLa planned to take Saki to an adoption center. On our last morning together, Saki and I played with her favorite toys.
We placed Saki inside a basket along with a kitty doll. I bid farewell to my dear Saki and gave her a speech about how things would turn out just fine for her. I’m not really sure if Saki heard all that I told her, that morning. As InKLa took the basket away, I went back to work, teary eyed. I was certain to miss that little, sleep destroying, fur ball.
After a week, the agency called us to inform that Saki had found a happy home. They mentioned that the little girl who adopted Saki found her extremely cute. Well, who wouldn’t? InKLa and I were quite happy, that day, that our small, yet Timely effort to help a kitten, finally paid off.