He was a story walking, with a cat on his shoulder.

He was a story walking with a cat on his shoulder.

I happened to notice him as I wandered, after comforting myself with a bowl of hot Asian food on a day when a mental breakdown was building up within; like Jenga blocks in my chest, about to crash with a thudd any moment.

I watched that cat be comfortable, seated on his shoulder; moving back and forth, looking all around but having a grip at her feet

I was really fascinated. 

I walked on the same street as I planned earlier, six to seven steps behind him, and just strolled in awe of the understanding this human and cat had built.

He wore a dark grey sweatshirt, full sleeved with a turquoise string looped around his thumb. This flat, tightly threaded string went all the way up tied to his cat's furry neck. The cat was dark grey and white, matching quite a lot to her owner's outfit. They looked like best friends and he, her safe keeper.

I tried taking a picture from the back, but was falling behind because of his speed.

I dropped that idea and paced up a little to be parallel to him, and it felt like three eccentric lives walking somewhere distinct with this shared memory.

I turned to my left and managed to say, "Heyy, it's really beautiful that she is on your shoulder. Can I take a photograph of her?!"

He said ofcourse, displaying kindness.

I said it's really fascinating how she's seated.

And what he said next was deeply moving.

"She's holding onto life right now.

She's really scared."

Although I immediately asked, did you rescue her?

My mind paused for a second, processing what he'd just stated.

She's holding onto life right now.

She's really scared

Minutes later I realized that that sentence was strongly stirring because it felt like he stared into my soul and spoke about me. 

As if those lines were about me. 

I felt something within, mixing into an emotion unnamed.

And all this while, I was having a waffle cone with tender coconut ice cream.

I watched him walk into a veterinary clinic as I ate ice cream out of that light brown cone, introspecting.

I couldn't walk ahead. I couldn't walk ahead past that clinic.

It was as if that turquoise string was pulling me into this clinic, to know the entire story.

To know their story, and what makes them who they are.

And I gave into the urge and stepped into a world made to foster and treat animals.

There were beautiful murals painted in dozens of colours, paintings of two dogs and a cat cornered the wide gate where multiple pets walked in

I explored the area a bit, there was a stone seating with roof with a label of ~waiting area hung with metal chains on either side.

And in the centre of that yard, three stairs leading you down stairs to a reception that registered your presence

I walked up to the table, two ladies sat opposingly dressed. One of them, young had a formal white shirt and her hair in a bun. The other one, older, was dressed in a green saree.

I played my architecture card, I told them I was an architecture student and we are designing an animal shelter and if I could look around.

They said I would have to wait, as I'd need the permission of the doctor, who would arrive an hour later.

I walked out with a nod, without feeling anything

I sat down on one of the teal painted chairs and just watched the people who entered there.

It was often a pair, the pet parent and a dog. Or a cat.

And I was smiling throughout, just watching these doggos and cats. 

They looked like love. 

I could feel the love between them, expanding as the dogs ran faster towards the door.

A love that I was slowly falling in love with.

And honestly, it did feel like therapy.

And most owners smiled at me generously, meeting me at an awe junction.

I was in awe of them and they were in awe of me for taking the time to sit there and just be.

And each pet was uniquely beautiful.

They were excited, calm, quiet or scared.

But all of them had one part happiness in them for being held by their parent.

Picture courtesy- Pinterest

And you know what, when I sat in the auto on my way back home, that's when I realized why that sentence was so deeply moving.

I've been overwhelmed the last few days,

//This thick layer of anxiety spreading on your heart, not allowing it to breathe

I hate this

Too tired to start work

Too worried to sleep

Just stumbling on your thoughts and mountains of work that are seemingly out of limit, but have been encountered before in a smaller form, encountered and conquered

But this worry doesn't get silenced so easily

Like the hailstorm yesterday, it's pelting hailstones on the stomach of my windows 

On the outside and on the inside

And today, there was a gloom going around in college because 17 of my seniors failed thesis

And the teachers were frenzy.//

And when that boy with a cat on his shoulder went

~She's holding onto life

She is really scared.

He mirrored me.

That cat felt like my inner child, and he, was me.

He carried that cat on his shoulder, understanding how she really felt.

And I've been doing the same, carrying my inner child on my sleeve, trying to understand how she really feels.

And it doesn't happen everyday that you meet someone who leaves you with a lot of hope and strength to carry yourself.

He did that.

My encounter with him was so brief but he left me with these lines that it is his responsibility to take care of her, and so he does. Carrying her around as she holds on to life. Him.

And this small incident felt like a wave of relief, balming assurance to my inner child, this voice clearing up inside my head.

Vajj, I am here for you.

I am holding onto you as you hold onto me. It gets scary but we will get through it. We will get through it with reminders like these.

I met a boy who left me with a mental image of a turquoise thread that spelt hope and a whole lot of strength to carry yourself.

He was a story with a cat on his shoulder

And he carried her with inexplicable ease.

~Vajj©