A Jungle Book by Tabby

A humourous story about Bipan babu, Pupai and a cat, Tabby, by Atrayee. An exclusive for Different Truths.

A quick check on the wall clock and Bipan babu made a beeline for his Gayatri-Japam. Stomach whined a little. It was already 10.45 and Missus seemed to be grumbling on his growing unpunctual attitude. It was so precise and patterned that Bipan babu could create an oxymoron for himself. Punctually unpunctual.

These days, Bipan babu had been battering many of those unsaid rules of the Missus. More than 40 years he had invested in a monotonous, unflappable schedule of life. Not anymore. 8 o’clock breakfast and 9 o’clock office; 1 o’clock lunch and 9.30 dinner. More than the authorities, the Missus was conscionable in that conscience.

These days, Bipan babu had been battering many of those unsaid rules of the Missus. More than 40 years he had invested in a monotonous, unflappable schedule of life. Not anymore. 8 o’clock breakfast and 9 o’clock office; 1 o’clock lunch and 9.30 dinner. More than the authorities, the Missus was conscionable in that conscience. Enough he had had. Once retired, Bipan babu abandoned that time-table forever with a wide grin.

“Done?” Missus asked as she heard Bipan babu arranging his puja vessels. “I’ve kept your muesli and curd… Little only I have given, so do not argue.”

Bipan babu sneered. Missus could never give anything in fewer amounts.

“I shall go and dress up… Made egg curry for your lunch. Rice and curry are kept in separate vessels. All microwavable…Just heat before eating.” Missus scurried about and so were her words.

There was a baby-shower function for one of Bipan babu’s distant relative. The Missus and all the other women in the house were going to attend. Though invited, Bipan babu didn’t like to attend this womanly affair. He excused himself citing his ever-ready reason; knee pain. He had a glance at the kitchen before he sat with his muesli. Everything spruced up; the stove, the slabs lest any eggy smell filled their small kitchen. Unaffected by her slipped disc pain, Missus remained on the dot for a systematised life even today. Somehow that spirit of being a homemaker was more of an axiom to her.

There was a baby-shower function for one of Bipan babu’s distant relative. The Missus and all the other women in the house were going to attend. Though invited, Bipan babu didn’t like to attend this womanly affair. He excused himself citing his ever–ready reason; knee pain. He had a glance at the kitchen before he sat with his muesli. Everything spruced up; the stove, the slabs lest any eggy smell filled their small kitchen.

Anyway, Missus was ready in her favourite beige and maroon tussar silk. Elegant; that wouldn’t be hyperbole. She saw Bipan babu still roaming.

“First eat something…I am fed up these days.”

“Wow! This saree I only gifted no?” He changed the topic. He’s great at that. “Stop mollycoddling me…I can take care of myself. You go enjoy the function.” Bipan babu sewed up the conversation and finally sat for his ‘breakfast’ at 11.20 a.m.

Though a bird of dawn, Bipan babu hardly got any time this morning. A tour to the bazaar, knee exercise, traction and then an hour-long discussion with those Municipality fellows from his balcony. Where was the time to check the books delivered through a leading online store?

Missus did intrude him once. ‘What hurry I have?’ That’s what Bipan babu responded with a puckered face and his big nose protruding.

His phone rang. It was Pupai on the other side. Daughter of Bipan babu’s eldest niece, all of five years old, she was the most loved treasure for him. A connoisseur of good fish, soft and chubby and sparkling with joy; just like a bunny. Another trait that drew her much closer to Bipan babu, was her love for stories. Pupai had a strong hankering for the ghosts of Bengali folklore.

His phone rang. It was Pupai on the other side. Daughter of Bipan babu’s eldest niece, all of five years old, she was the most loved treasure for him. A connoisseur of good fish, soft and chubby and sparkling with joy; just like a bunny. Another trait that drew her much closer to Bipan babu, was her love for stories. Pupai had a strong hankering for the ghosts of Bengali folklore. She would sit quietly, legs and arms folded like a disciplined pupil, eagerly taking in the variety of ghosts that Bipan babu had to offer. Never scared. It was waggish instead, to see a child piercing through the differences between two types of ghosts.

Bipan babu named her fable-phile borrowing its essence from the word bibliophile. And for the little Pupai, Bipan babu was Golpo Dadu (storyteller grandfather).

“Arey… I am waiting for you…So are those books.” Bipan babu answered the call.

“Golpo Dadu, I am also invited for the function you see…” Pupai gulped down a breath. She did that whenever she had to frame an impressive phrase.

“Okay…Do let me know how the fish was.” Bipan babu added his zing.

“Listen…” Pupai instructed. “I called you to tell that I shall keep Tabby with you…For safety. She will protect you.”

God! What an articulation by a tiny soul. Bipan babu laughed for he didn’t realise, was it an order from the child or a request.

“Oh! Thank you, darling…You only think about me.” Bipan babu giggled. “Anything else you advise?”

“Yes…Just keep Tabby with you inside the AC room. It’s very hot no?”

Tabby was Pupai’s pet cat. Two years ago, her mother had rescued Tabby from a drain. Since then, Tabby got her name, a house for food and possibly all the worldly comforts. Like her mother, Pupai was also fond of animals, especially cats.

Tabby was Pupai’s pet cat. Two years ago, her mother had rescued Tabby from a drain. Since then, Tabby got her name, a house for food and possibly all the worldly comforts. Like her mother, Pupai was also fond of animals, especially cats. Even one of the books ordered from an online store was a photobook on cats.

Very soon, the big gang of ladies left for the function and Bipan babu was left to spend his time staring at Tabby. Pupai had already placed Tabby’s crocheted couch inside Bipan babu’s bedroom floor. She assured that Tabby would sleep now and wouldn’t be too troublesome.

Of course, she would sleep. She had had a full plate of macher-jhol bhaat and given the softness and grandeur of that lilac-blue couch of hers, Tabby earned more luxuries in life doing nothing. Bipan babu stole a glance. Golden brown fluffy fur, with white specks here and there, fluttered under the fan. Eyes closed, lying on her back, limbs akimbo, just imagine the size of Tabby’s couch.

Bipan babu opened the package. All duties for the day done, Bipan babu lay on his bed flipping through the books. The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling was one of the purchases; nevertheless, his curious eyes pored through the pictures of the different species of cats. There were so many; he never thought so.

Bipan babu opened the package. All duties for the day done, Bipan babu lay on his bed flipping through the books. The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling was one of the purchases; nevertheless, his curious eyes pored through the pictures of the different species of cats. There were so many; he never thought so.

So, what was Tabby? Munchkin? No no…Her legs were quite prominent. Not a Bengal Cat either. Bipan babu searched for the leopard-like spots. No. He turned pages one by one and immediately matched for the similarities with Pupai’s Tabby. And the STAR, who all of a sudden had gathered so much attention from Bipan babu, was blissfully lost in her dreams. Probably catching a live fish or pouncing on a rat.

Finally, after a few more minutes of searching and matching, Bipan babu found a match. Ginger cat. Or to be precise, for that M shape marked on the forehead of Pupai’s Tabby was the common trait of the Tabby Cat as well. He looked at Tabby. She was awake again. Her catnap was intruded by an arrogant fly. She meowed at Bipan babu as if complaining about the discomfort caused and crouched to attempt the fly.

Finally, after a few more minutes of searching and matching, Bipan babu found a match. Ginger cat. Or to be precise, for that M shape marked on the forehead of Pupai’s Tabby was the common trait of the Tabby Cat as well. He looked at Tabby. She was awake again. Her catnap was intruded by an arrogant fly. She meowed at Bipan babu as if complaining about the discomfort caused and crouched to attempt the fly. Perhaps she got the job done in one or two pounces, for she again dozed off. And this time, she preferred to have her body curled up.

“Cats are true connoisseurs of comfort…as rightly said.” Bipan babu yawned and muttered.

“By James Harriot.” A new voice floated in the room.

“Who is that?” Bipan babu turned anxious and Oh dear Lord! What was that before his eyes?

“I mean… James Harriot quoted it.” It was Tabby who spoke.

“Oh…So you speak our language?” Bipan babu quipped with his anyway big eyes widened further.

“Thought of enlightening you…as you showed so much of interest in me.” Tabby sat on her couch showing off her long forelimbs.

Bipan babu had heard about that American proverb which said that after dark, all cats are leopards. However, it was neither dark nor a leopard could speak like humans. Then? It should be a dream.

Bipan babu had heard about that American proverb which said that after dark, all cats are leopards. However, it was neither dark nor a leopard could speak like humans. Then? It should be a dream.

“Yes, it is… A dream.” Tabby spoke again.

“So you’re reading my mind.” Bipan babu giggled and prepared himself for an exciting conversation. With none around, even an outstretched one he could afford now.

“I was once a God.” Tabby paused and scratched her whiskers. “Quite an annoying fly you have here.”

“Oh, I apologize for that…I wasn’t prepared for playing a host to God.”

Tabby meowed at Bipan babu’s heartfelt words and continued.

“Ancient God… Goddess Bastet.”

“Oh yes! Egypt.”

“Great going human… You know history.”

Bipan babu started enjoying this chat; all the more for the poise and confidence, this talking Tabby carried with her.

“So…Do cats have 9 lives?”

“Maybe… Who knows…Who cares actually?” Tabby was busy cleaning her claws like a top-notch model least bothered about her interviewer.

“True… So are you an aunt of tigers and lions?”

Tabby looked a little annoyed. The lines of that M on her forehead made a few ridges. “Don’t get me started with that…I can have a Jungle Book of my own.”

“Share it…For we all know that cats were once in the Jungle and they were domesticated during…”

Bipan babu was interrupted in a very cold tone.

“Oh! Keep that Wikipedia knowledge to yourself… I don’t give a damn if it was Egypt or someone from the Far East.”

Tabby made herself comfortable on her couch. She posed as royal as a tiger but in a smaller size. She softened her voice and said, “I am an utter victim of jealousy you know.”

Tabby made herself comfortable on her couch. She posed as royal as a tiger but in a smaller size. She softened her voice and said, “I am an utter victim of jealousy you know.”

What melodrama! No wonder cats are an apposite metaphor for women.

“I tried to befriend everyone you know…But they didn’t understand me. Rather they asked me to hold back my style…my confidence. They looked for the faults in me…Huh! Faults? In me?” Tabby smirked and paused to check if Bipan babu was listening.

Yes, he was. All ears to her thoughts and even urged Tabby for a monologue.

Tabby was happy. And like some yesteryear heroine, she freed up her tale. Autobiography in an audio format, maybe? That should be the correct definition.

“I was advanced…If not in size and speed and hunting capacities, definitely in thoughts. I was vocal against the polygamy amongst the lions. The lionesses thought I was screwing them up against their happy conjugal life… I left that topic there. Then I asked the lion to participate in hunting. He couldn’t be so chauvinistic after all. Huh! What do I get in return? They asked me to leave.” Tabby sighed as some long love affair lost.

“I was advanced…If not in size and speed and hunting capacities, definitely in thoughts. I was vocal against the polygamy amongst the lions. The lionesses thought I was screwing them up against their happy conjugal life… I left that topic there. Then I asked the lion to participate in hunting. He couldn’t be so chauvinistic after all. Huh! What do I get in return? They asked me to leave.” Tabby sighed as some long love affair lost.

“Then tigers…They loved me truly. But somehow I didn’t like their way of hunting. They would keep their hunted prey for a long time, sometimes months on end, before consuming. And they were dirty…Though majestic, they didn’t have the same panache and élan as me. Did they?” Tabby sniffed this time.

Was there any correlation between cats and narcissism? Bipan babu pondered. “So tigers asked you to leave.”

“What? N-o-o-o” Tabby looked irked. “I left them…Their cubs disturbed me a lot. Especially for my faulted swimming. They mocked me when I asked them to catch a fish for me.”

“Oh, I see. You didn’t want to get wet…though you liked fresh catch.” Bipan babu rolled in the aisles of his mind, but on the face of it, he was a keen listener.

Slightly miffed, Tabby said, “Are you a proverb-phillic Human?” Bipan babu didn’t know if it was a compliment, so remained silent.

Tabby glanced at Bipan babu’s intrusion and nodded approval. “Sphynx and Lykoi were too bad to look at… I couldn’t be with the furless sphynx… They looked as if bereft of any modesty. And Lykoi was more lupine than a cat you know. Have you ever seen them? They look gross.”

“Leopard, Jaguar…Even the Black Panthers invited me to be a part. But their speed was unmatched… I couldn’t be at their mercy for food.”

“So you left them right?”

Tabby glanced at Bipan babu’s intrusion and nodded approval. “Sphynx and Lykoi were too bad to look at… I couldn’t be with the furless sphynx… They looked as if bereft of any modesty. And Lykoi was more lupine than a cat you know. Have you ever seen them? They look gross.”

“So you marched out of Jungle one day… Is that so?” Bipan babu sounded curious.

Tabby purred with a laugh. “I never came out from anywhere my dear… All I was doing was sobbing at the brink. A human came up, fondled my soft coat and fed me… With milk and fish and brought me home…He even gave me a soft couch to sleep-over. And the house was a hub for rats. What else I needed? So I simply went with the flow… So, here I am. Nobody owned me…I chose humans.”

Bipan babu brought his palms together and bowed down to Tabby. As the English writer, W.L George once quoted ‘Cats know how to obtain food without labour, shelter without confinement and love without penalties’

Bipan babu brought his palms together and bowed down to Tabby. As the English writer, W.L George once quoted ‘Cats know how to obtain food without labour, shelter without confinement and love without penalties’

“Oh, God! Another quote ran inside your head.” Tabby sneered. “Aren’t you an Economics major?”

“You know that also?” Bipan babu giggled. “So…Cats get it all.”

Tabby stared at him. Was she going to pounce? No. Tabby wasn’t crouching.

“You jealous soul…What can I say? Who quoted that by the way?”

“Rod Mckuen. An American poet.”

“So what did he say?” Tabby sighed; like the famed actress willing to lend a thought on the ongoing rumours.

“Cats have it all. Admiration, endless sleep and company only when they want it.” Bipan babu said.

Tabby thought for a while. “Hmm. This American is true… I get company when I WANT it, and never otherwise.”

“And time spent with a cat is never wasted.” Bipan babu smiled. “By Colette Sigmund Feud.”

“Oh God! Humans are obsessive with me I think.”

Bipan babu chortled. “Not exactly… We are more obsessed with the fact that there is someone like a cat to teach us that not everything in nature has a function.”

Tabby meowed louder than ever and jumped on the bed.

Bipan babu woke up with a jolt. The photobooks and the Jungle book lay open by his side. Tabby was indeed on the bed. But, she no longer spoke, just meowed a few times for that blaring doorbell. Tabby could perhaps hear Pupai’s voice.

Bipan babu woke up with a jolt. The photobooks and the Jungle book lay open by his side. Tabby was indeed on the bed. But, she no longer spoke, just meowed a few times for that blaring doorbell. Tabby could perhaps hear Pupai’s voice.

It was a dream after all. Hilarious, bizarre but entertaining. Time spent with Tabby was not wasted at all.

Bipan babu laughed and kept Pupai’s Tabby back on her couch. He looked at the clock and went to answer the door. Time was 3 and he hadn’t yet had his lunch. The Missus would be spraying fire now.

Photo from the Internet