Random Rambling


I haven’t written anything about anything lately. I have been wanting to write a lot but the thoughts in my mind did not really come straight to take the shape of words here. There are too many thoughts, such as that of a kid I met who was selling story books in the streets of Karachi — the books he cannot read himself; and the 3 siblings (Kamran, Sundus and Ayesha) I met who were selling boiled eggs on Mall Road in Murree — Kamran having the age of eleven wishing to join army, Sundus with the age of ten dreaming to become a medical doctor in army, and Ayesha being the youngest of all siblings having age seven just aiming to follow her older sister Sundus. God help them to achieve their dreams!

Few days back I saw a stray cat downstairs in my garage. She was milking her baby kitten when I first threw my glance at her. It seemed that the kitten was recently born– not older than a week maybe. The mother cat meowed when she saw me staring her. The soft meow pushed me to go upstairs and take a piece of chicken meat escaping my mother’s eyes to feed the mommy cat. Mother is not against feeding animals, especially cats. She is only concerned about feeding them in the boundary of the house because then they spoil her plantations and foul the stairs and around by keeping their presence there permanently after getting fed on daily basis. It has been more than a month now and since that day whenever that cat finds me downstairs in the garage where she often sits and sleeps, she walks herself near to me and meows for food. I have been feeding her and her kitten secretly who is now a little grown up. I feed a few more random cats here and there in the street sometimes.

But here is the funny thing. I have also been feeding a dog in my street for some two years. The dog is white and big now. I have known him since he was born in a house at the end of my street. The family kept it till he got a few months older, and then they let him loose. He hasn’t left the street since then and the family hasn’t stopped caring for him either, feeding him most of the days in the week. He is nearly 3 years old. But I have been friend with him for two years only. I don’t let him touch me and I don’t touch him either for hygiene reasons. Though he is bathed by that family sometimes. So whenever he sees me passing by, he wags his tail always, and sometimes even follow me down the road till I reach home. I have secretly named him Delfino. So one day a few days ago I was coming home around midnight and Delfino caught me at the corner of the street. I had some stuff in a plastic bag in my hand and Delfino thought it was something I was bringing for him to feed as sometimes I do, so he started following me. A few steps ahead, and another stray cat whom I occasionally feed too saw me with the plastic bag and began to follow me besides Delfino. Not a few steps later “Asma” and “Kallu”, two of the old cats in the street named so by a neighbor, added to the queue of strays following me. The queue was soon joined by that cat and her kitten who are found in my garage these days most of the day. So it was like, I was walking down the road in my street for home, and I had 5 cats and a dog following me. It was funny because all of them had appeared in no time from no where one by one.

I was troubled lately. Stressed, maybe. I don’t know. I wasn’t feeling well. So many things were streaming in my brain. I had trouble sleeping too. I couldn’t focus on one thing or another. I have been staring at the faces of random people and thinking how their life is like. Are they happy? Are they healthy? I don’t know.

During my graduation days I had an Iranian friend in England whose name was Sadegh. He would frequently use the expression “I don’t know”. Lately I too have been using this phrase a lot; when a horde of questions pop in my mind and I couldn’t answer them, I say to myself “I don’t know”. I think I have been missing Sadegh for one. Secondly, I really don’t know “whys” and “whats” about many things. Things like, why it feels to do good and still not do enough? Why is it not enough to be just good? What is it that makes you feel good if doing good is not good enough? Maybe the answer lies in the endless cycle of doing-good. I don’t know. Thank you, Sadegh. If it weren’t for your favorite expression, I would be lost in making wrong answers. Now I silent myself with your favorite expression. Maybe it is for the best.

 

 

 

 

 

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