5th July 2019

I have a problem with God.

My cat knew not how to lie,
Cheat, backstab, slander, steal
Or plot the downfall of a rival
By means of treachery

Or even murder. 
Yet it was punished yesterday
With death by agonizing miscarriage
For its sins.
(No one dies innocently, not even infants,
As who knows what atrocities
Infants are capable of in adulthood,
Or perhaps it's to spare them from evil that may befall them

At some point in their lives,
In both cases as foreseen by God.)
So, the question is, 'What sins?
Killed too many sparrows and/or house lizards?'
It was a cat. That what cats do.
That's what cats were created to do.
'Mated with multiple partners?'
It was a cat. That's what cats do.
That's what cats were created to do.
So why did God look the other way
When it was struggling in agony
For the last thirty minutes of its life?
Why did God  include such a horrible ending
In his Holy Script Concerning All Life On Earth
In the case of one insignificant drop-in-the-ocean cat
Who would eventually be named Good-Looking Carlos?
Why? Because he is God and that's what God does?

It is written,

When we call,

He will not answer,

When we plead,

He will look away

For we have forsaken him.

Therefore, when he calls,

I will not answer,

When he pleads,

I will look away

For he has forsaken me

When he killed off my cat,

Yes, killed it off,

For no good reason.

Yes, indeed, I have a problem with God.

[God's imagined reply:]

In what manner would you rather have.it die,

O Foolish One,

If indeed its time to die was at hand?

Killed by a car that ran over it and spilled it guts out

Right in front of your own doorstep

(As was the layout in residential enclaves such as yours)

Or ripped apart by a roaming pack of stray dogs

(Which you yourself have not only encountered in the past,

Mostly late at night,

But also chased away, quarterstaff in hand)?

[Me:]

What are we mortals if not lower than the dirt beneath thy feet.

O Lord, 
For I spoke out of grief from a grieving heart,

Blinded by tears and clouded by sorrow.

You always do what is best for us,

Cat, dog or human

And hence I shall hold my tongue in silence

Lest my foolishness be my downfall.

[God's imagined reply:]

So as it is said,

So shall it be done.

....................................................................................

Good-Looking Carlos
14th Sept. 2018 - 4th July 2019

1st July 2019

All the tears I've cried

For all the ones who died

Means none have I left for you,

My poor sick Ginger Boy, 

Whose end was very near

By tomorrow night I fear, 

My poor sick  Ginger Boy,

My poor sick Ginger Boy.

15th November 2018

I wrestled with the devil from morning until night

(He slipped in through a back door and put up quite a fight)

And though he seemed the victor by early morning's light

He suddenly retreated and fled like one in fright. 

A medico might call it the onset of the flu

(The word that crossed my mind was v-o-o-d-o-o,

Not  African but Asian j-o-o-j-o-o

Or juju more correctly but that I'm sure you knew.)

11th April 2018

Gloat, mine enemies, gloat,

For I have been brought low,

Rendered weak and defenseless,

Not by your own righteousness

But by the fruit of my own hands,

But just as the sun rises again

After darkness has fallen,

So too shall I soar like the eagle

And run fleet-footed like the gazelle

As I once did in the old days

When the gods looked down on me

And were pleased

With what their hands had made.

  

21st March 2018

Praised be the gods in the heavens above,

For my beloved,

Doomed to die from birth complications

As feared and believed for many a day now,

Is at last freed of her prematurely-born babies and lives

Without the interfering hand of human intervention,

I might add.

Praised be the gods in the heavens above,

For another beloved of mine,

Doomed to die from a prolonged illness-induced loss of appetite

As feared and believed for many a day not too long ago,

Not only recovered but thrives today

Without the interfering hand of human intervention,

I might add.

Perhaps the gods too had cats of their own,

Seeing the way they heard my prayers concerning mine.

18th November 2017

Look, what they've done with their concrete and steel:

A seawall that's endless where sea meets shore

In place of the sand beneath sole and heel;

The beaches of Butterworth are no more.

Look, what they've done with their concrete and steel:

A seawall so ugly the eyes are sore

As fat were the wallets that closed the deal;

The beaches of Butterworth are no more.

Look, what they've done with their concrete and steel:

A seawall and not the beaches of yore

Along which we ran barefooted with zeal;

The beaches of Butterworth are no more.

29th April 2017

I found you in the back lane behind two Sundays ago,

Dumped, I'm guessing, because you were a girl 
Which, unless you were in the cat breeding business,

Was bad news to a cat owner in this part of the world

Just as being born a girl was bad news in India

Although for different reasons, dowry-related, mostly.

No matter.

You were about, what, three months old?

Good.

The moment I saw you, I said to myself, this one I'm keeping for myself.
Why?

Because every cat born in this household for the last ten, nay, twenty years

Either died of something, went missing or, in the case of the boys, left home

And you represented a new hope, a fresh start,

To rebuilding the cat family I once had

And lived for,

Mostly.

Eve,

That's what your name shall be,

For just as the biblical Eve was the mother of all of mankind,

So too shall you be the mother of the new generation of cats born into this family,

By the grace of Almighty God,
Amen.

On second thoughts, make that Hurricane Eve, 
In accordance with the way you enjoyed dashing about the place
With the strength and energy of a little hurricane.