Whitey

 Whitey

At that time I was 10 and in my 5^th grade. I studied in a boarding school in Tamil Nadu, and I had come for my annual holidays to my home. My home was in Jharkhand at that time. My parents were managing a school that they were running for the tribal kids. It was a long 4-day journey by the train. My sister and I were accompanied by an escort who was basically a colleague of my parents. We had several other students from our school traveling all the way north. My sister and I were really quiet kids, we stuck to our books, comics, and novels and watched the free television outside our train’s window.

We had just arrived at our home but our parents weren’t home. The tribal staff who were working in the school got us some breakfast. I heard the screeching sound of the gates and the vrooming sound of the jeep. I knew my parents were entering the campus. I sprinted out and dashed to the gate. I was overjoyed to see my parents. They looked the same from when I last saw them which was a year back. I opened the jeep’s door for Mummy. Mummy shushed me and looked down. On her lap was the most beautiful sight I could behold. It was the fluffiest ball of a snow-white kitten which was peacefully sleeping cosily in all serenity with no worry in the world. I wanted to hold it, but Mummy said, “Little Calvin, it should be tired from all the traveling, let it get some rest” I knew that Mummy was definitely over-pampering it. My parents had gone to visit an old friend of theirs and they got this pretty kitten from their house.

“The kitchen godown has a problem. The sacks that store wheat, rice, dhal, and other pulses are getting damaged by the rats that are ransacking the whole place. That’s the reason I got us a cat” said Daddy. I imagined Dad got him as a companion, but I was wrong. Daddy started training Whitey from Day 1. Whitey had to take a bath once a day since he was white he would get dirty easily. My Dad treated him like a dog. He would tie Whitey in a cloth rope and forceful bath him which he resisted with all his life. Whitey was probably like me. I hated bathing on holidays. Whitey was forced to eat rats which Daddy killed and offered to him hoping that he would get a taste for mouse meat. The funny thing is Whitey was skeptical about mouse meat and almost always refused to eat it. It enjoyed its daily milk and fish.

My sister was scared so she never went near the kitten. I on the other hand loved my cute fluff of happiness. In the evenings I would sit with him in the verandah and I would catch grasshoppers, beetles, and bugs and Whitey enjoyed eating them. It was like popcorn to whitey, crunchy on the outside and gooey on the inside. I never brushed down his fur with my hands or pampered him with my words because at that time I never knew those are things you do to the ones you love. I just sat with him all evening until Mummy called me for dinner. I just wanted Whitey to know that I care for him and love him with all my heart and I’ll always be with him. My limited actions spoke louder than words.

The two months of my annual leave had come to an end and I had to go back to school. I gave Whitey a tight hug and didn’t want to leave. I was going back to prison. I wanted Whitey with me. Whitey was just sad and glum like he lost everything in the world. We had the best company. I always called him a good boy because that is what I wanted to be called. I knew I couldn’t see Whitey for a whole year. ‘What if he forgot me?’ I thought.

The next year when Mummy came to pick me up at the railway station, she was telling me, “Little Calvin, Whitey was acting strange all morning. It’s full of energy and excitement. I think he knows you are coming home today” At that moment I knew whitey would never forget me. When we entered our campus I could see Whitey sitting on the verandah. He was all grown up. He looked majestic and like a king. As soon as I got down from our jeep, he came purring and rubbing his body on my legs. I let down my luggage and carried him. His purring almost was telling me that he missed me a lot and he had to suffer with Dad just like I had to suffer without Whitey. Whitey made new friends, 3 other cats. He was engaged with them all the time. But he returned to me when evenings came. He was my home and I was his. Our evenings were as usual, we spent quality time. I would catch insects and feed him. He would munch on them happily. I was 11 and Whitey was 1 and a ½ but he acted like he was the boss around the house, especially because he became the hero in the school. He was agile, quick, and skilled. Dad’s mission was a success. Whitey caught every rat his eyes could lay on. The godown was safe and he became a hero amongst the boys on the campus for his majestic looks and speedy moves. The fluffy fur now looked glorious. I looked like he was always destined for greatness.

The two months of the annual holidays got over rather quickly. I left with memories of going on walks with Whitey, exploring the jungle nearby, going on hunts, and stealing fish, cookies, and milk from the kitchen for Whitey. We would go flower hunting, mushroom foraging, and digging the ground.

I was so excited for the next year’s vacation. When my teacher asked me on the last day of school how I would spend my holidays, I said, “I’m going to go on more adventures with my pet cat, Whitey” This vacation was very confusing.  I was in a different home, Whitey was nowhere to be found. I asked, “Mummy, when will we go back to our home and where is Whitey?”

 “We got a transfer. We could not take Whitey because we had to pack up the whole house, and we had lots of luggage, and it would have been very difficult with Whitey around. I’m sorry Calvin” said Mummy softly, hoping I would understand. I was shattered, devastated, I had no words the only words in my mouth were “but…...” I went to the new house’s bedroom, my face sank into the pillow and I cried myself to sleep.