Mini

Her arrival into my life was rather accidental. At first sight she was just another of her kiln who would make their daily visits to our hostel. But another look and she was different from all of them. Her eyes were greener than the others’ and her gait and walk…..there was definitely something in her which caught the eye. Our first meeting was un expected. I had just woken up from sleep and was going to the canteen for my early morning cup of tea, hair dishevelled, face unshaven, eyes bleary, not exactly the situation you would like a first meeting to be in. She however seemed to have an instant liking for me and started circling around me all the time rubbing her little body against my legs. I too took a liking for the little kitten and despite running the risk of being scratched, took her in my arms. And thereby began our relationship which lasted till the day I left the university.
She was not born in the hostel, the canteen boy said. Someone from the village, just outside the university campus had left her in the hostel. Her tendency to climb on the benches, in the canteen seemed to ratify this. She would climb on the benches and rub herself against our bodies, in a bid to draw our attentions into sharing food items with her. We would humour her with small pieces of biscuit and bread. She, however, seemed to be more active during lunch and dinner when fish or meat was served. I would be the first one she would invariably approach, to make her presence felt, but she slowly took to the fact that I was a vegetarian and could not offer her any fish or meat. However, she did become a fan of the aloo bhaja (deep fried sliced potatoes), served to the veggies in lieu of the non vegetarian items, and would often wait for me to come for my lunch or dinner, whatever the case may be.
The other hostellers did not take quite kindly to her and would in fact take it out on me for giving her enough leverage, something which according to them was absolutely un called for. But irrespective of what others said, I would always try to jump to her protection and try to convince my friends to leave her alone. By now, she had become a beautiful, graceful full grown cat.
She had started trusting me and knew very well that out of the 120 or so students staying in New P.G. Hall, I would surely be one who won’t ever hit her.
Her intimacy with me grew during the 2007 Durga Puja vacations. I had decided to stay back in the hostel, to prepare for my MBA entrance examinations. However, the mess would be closed at that time. And realising that the major source of her daily diet would be closed, during those fifteen days, she (invariably) turned to me for help. I and a junior who had also chosen to stay back,for a reason similar to mine, would feed her. The whole exercise had assumed a certain pattern. Our days would begin waking up to her constant mewing outside my or my junior’s door. Whoever would listen to it first would get up and feed her bread slices, which we would keep mainly to satisfy her hunger. Lunchtime for her would consist of a little rice which we would literally smuggle from Subirda’s hotel, where we would go for our lunch. For dinner, we would get an extra roti or two from Subirda’s shop and then offer it to her at 10 P.M., the time she would arrive at either of our doorsteps.
Her gaining entry into my room was also in a way, one would not exactly call conventional. Having forgotten to lock my door from inside, one fine day, I woke up from my siesta to find her sleeping peacefully on my table. And thus began another routine which continued through those vacations.
The last time I saw her was the day I was packing my things to leave the hostel. It was the 29th of May 2008. While I along with my friends was busy packing up for yet another leg of hostel life, in this institute, she sat quietly on an old book shelf just outside my room. By then she had mothered three children, who were firmly on their way to become as beautiful and graceful as their mother was. That night I found her to be as much upset, as I was at my leaving the hostel.
And I can swear……I had seen tears in her eyes.
I don’t know, whether she is still alive. I don’t know what fates her children have met. But I know one thing for sure. The only part of my hostel stay of those two years, which I miss today, is the time I had spent with her.