The little things from a big bad day of missing Maska
Maska still missing, was the most awful wound that ached through yesterday, the night and now, even as I remembered to catch up on my bath, which I forgot yesterday. A hot bath often squashes grief for minutes, but this one brought my lost cat into the bathroom and bit me.
Mishti her little sister, thankfully still with me, who keeps me alive, with her bullying and scolding, and warming my body with her small, furry self, had sneaked into the large chunks of cardboard boxes crushed and broken, and lying on the terrace she got yesterday.
Brought down a bunch of them and put them in the front room. She was hiding inside one of the crumpled sides of one box and feeling like some great feline detective I think!
The dinner Chandni had ordered for all of us last night was delicious. Hot, soft rice, tasty, chilli hot dal, my favourite bitter gourd veggie and channa dal with saragwani sing. So filling, healthy and inexpensive, as we watched Sacred Games.
Then there is Biscuit, my gentle grey tabby who always jumps down on the bed from the book shelf when I have brought my coffee to drink! And she never falls upon it! Looks carefully to find out where it is and jumps so she does not drop it. Everyday this little act of good behavior startles me with peace!
And when I come down from the room upstairs in the night to sleep, Maska again hammering at my heart on that stairwell, little Chintu, my smallest grey and white kitty begins to whine urgently, endlessly. She sits on that secret ledge above the safe room made for them with steps to climb up and down, with nothing to cry about, nothing to complain about, but just as if she is welcoming me back home, to decide to live just one more day, for her sake, without Maska!
Her eyes gaze fiercely into mine, carrying that astonishing innocence all animals own and share with us so often, especially when we are sunk or drowning in despair’s pitiless sea so immense that we are totally lost.
As I switch on the television, Sacred Games (the second season with a very powerful cast) was not good enough to keep Maska out of my always swollen heart, still shuddering with the dread of her missing. But then I watched Dark, the German television thriller on Netflix and it held me inside its superior, involving, and chilling expertise! For an hour it saved me….
It must be the best series right now after Line of Duty as it is the only one that has held my interest ever since Maska was lost.
I had read that though this German chiller is a little difficult to hang on to, being layered with strands of mystery, menace, history and psychological gems of detail, it is worth our while to do so as it grips like a fang out of nowhere and does not let you go! Which is very true. And for a while I was able to bear Maska’s loss softly inside me with comfort around the crevices of my soul.