Tiger, Tiger!

Coming along the clear path,
in all majesty,
His Majesty.

Holding out

The cats have laid siege to our house. She had been looking fat for a while but revealed to us her crop of three only a few weeks ago. At first they limited themselves to the shade of one tree, nibbling at each others tails and making heavy weather of climbing small branches, scampering at the least sound.

Now with a few more days of living, and a small gain in weight, they think no end of themselves. They have taken over all our particular nooks, mewl at us as we pass the window and camp at our doorstep. My mother, who is ailurophobic, is virtually under house arrest and needs someone at all times to open the door gingerly, shoo away all felines and stand guard while she finishes whatever small work she needs to execute outdoors.

Mother Cat is a good mother. Attentive and protective but also far too indulgent, for she knows full well her brats are not permitted inside but will she keep them in line? No! instead, they persist in pushing their luck, peeping around doors, waiting for a crack in the defence. Even my dad who is notorious for forgetting to shut doors is assiduous in making sure they are barred. Although I must say his 'shoos' are rather half-hearted and wouldn't flutter a gnat.

Here is one, liking the rise and fall of mother's breath as he snoozes on the wall:

Bands of boys

Rock concert last night as part of the Times Festival. Headbanging crowds, sea of cornas and lovely weather. Bands Parikrama and Pentagram, both of whom were very good. I enjoyed Parikrama very much - their violinist was amazingly talented - and I might have enjoyed Pentagram more had Vishal Dadlani not insisted on putting us through our paces with the 'hands in the air, come sing-along, now clap with me' routine.
I've missed everything else - the Balamurli concert, Shiv Kumar Sharma and not going tonight to Manto Ismat Hazir Hain.

I wait

This has been a difficult summer. Some weird going-with-nature ideals hold sway chez Vyases and we make do with fans and vetiver purdahs. So you see, no ACs and no coolers. We simply tough it out.
I felt the heat particularly these months. Miseries of trickling sweat and heated laptops apart, I find I can’t write. Kind people have been waiting for longish whiles for pieces that should’ve landed in their inboxes ages ago.
All my wretchedness seems tied in with the hateful heat that rises off everything. The rains are lashing Kerala and I cannot wait for them to crawl over my city. Soon, soon…