Love Infelinite

  A moonless night, dark at heart and in complexion, weaved her spell around my world. I, for one, felt comfortable during nights. My mistress had retired, one of her many male admirers keeping her company. I jumped out through the open window and lost myself into the depths of the darkness around my home.

    Allow me to introduce myself. I do have a proper name. But everyone calls me "Blackie"; because of the black coat of fur I have on. My mistress owns me, in the same way she owns half of the town we live in. Of course, she'd inherited most of it, thanks to her now-forgotten ancestors who had spilt blood (other's, mind you) for it.
 
Me? I am different.

    I am her companion. During the day, at least. I spend most of my time by her side. Just being present. Being there. I suppose I am a fashionable accoutrement; just like her jewelry and furs; something in vogue.

I wouldn't know.

  But hey, I'm not the one to complain. I'm smart enough to know that I have no hope of living a life on the streets. There is no place in society for my kind.

  I hid myself in the darkness, listening for the guard dogs, who, I knew were around somewhere. I have no love for those dogs and I think the feeling is mutual. I moved carefully, not making any sound until I reached the wall. This, I scaled by aid of the tree that stands by the wall and I jumped out to the street.

  Just then, I heard a single gong. Right on time. I knew no one would miss me till daybreak. I had plenty of time. For these midnight excursions had become the highest points of my until-then-pointless existence. On the first night I had ventured out, I saw her.

    She lived on the third floor of an upscale apartment building right next to my home. There was a tree by the road, unnaturally tall, whose topmost branch extended to her window. On my first night out, for no apparent reason, I'd climbed the tree and reached the window. (Tree climbing is a favorite pastime of mine. I climb whenever I'm very happy; or very sad).

    That was how I saw her for the first time.

  She had a curious habit of sleeping in her chair. She was curled up, her legs tucked in, a serene expression on her face.
 
    I'd seen her smile in her sleep; not a full smile but a suspicious hint of it, a smile which one might search for all his life and never find. A kind of smile reserved of someone special in your life. A smile for THE ONE.

    I consider myself to be sophisticated. I have to be so, lest I embarrass my mistress in public. But here I am, on a slender branch of a tree three stories high, in the dead of the night, peeping at someone who has not the faintest idea of my existence. People say "love at first sight" is the worst cliché one can come across. But you know, the most annoying thing about clichés is that they are always true.

  Because, how else do I justify my actions? I am surely mad.

    I AM IN LOVE.


    Well, this has been my night-life for the last few weeks. Tonight too, I climbed the tree to my usual perch at the lone branch- the branch that almost connects my world to the other that holds the centre of my universe.-A world forever separated from me by two inches of double paned glass- A world to see but never to enter.

    I've always wondered about the smile on her face. I've even hoped, against all odds, that she smiles at me. For me. That she knows I look at her all night. That I love her. Hopelessly. Madly.

    But No! Reality struck me hard, leaving me gasping for breath. I was fairly sure she was in my profession. A companion to yet another of the richest of the rich, someone who treated our kind as living, decorous additions to their furniture. Nothing more. She'd never be allowed to meet me. Of this was sure. The thought was too much for me to bear. I gave out a wail of pain that haunted the night, despising the helplessness of my situation

  Why is it we always desire the unattainable? Is it the thrill of the chase, knowing that it can never be reached? Is this why a caged lion roars at the world outside? A world to be seen but not to be entered. Is it the knowledge that heaven lies just beyond our grasp? Why is it that desire always exceeds our grasp?

    Before I'd known of her, I had been happy. But now, my midnight excursions had brought me immeasurable joy and unbearable pain.

  Ignorance is indeed bliss.

Dawn. A maelstrom of thoughts in my head had chased away the night. I heard the seven gongs which I usually hear from my bed at home. But today I was determined to be by her side. Just looking at her. Here I am at the top of a tree looking at a single beauty whose mere mention makes even the sentence more beautiful.

  I must have known something was wrong. I should have remembered that my mistress is an early riser, she usually wishes me to be by her side during breakfast. I chose to ignore all these. I even ignored the sirens blaring nearby. But I could no longer remain unconcerned when a ladder was placed nearby and a man climbed up and picked me up bodily. He slung me over his shoulders, ignoring my shrieks of surprise and anger. I kicked out furiously and tried to get beck to the branch; but I was helpless; all I managed was to give him a few scratches, which he blithely ignored.

  The man dropped down onto the ground and dropped me by my mistress. I was angry. I wanted to scream that I was in love. That I wanted to see her. But once I saw my mistress, I held my peace. I was quiet. My mistress held me to her bosom. She was angry and amused at the same time. "Blackie! You naughty boy! Bad Blackie!” she exclaimed, kissing my brow, "never do this again. You scared me". I made all the appropriate responses. As it was required of me. 

    The man walked to my mistress. "Ma'am", he said, removing his helmet, “That cat of yours is really vicious. Scratches like hell. I'd lock it up in a box, if I were you". And he walked off.