In Bed With A Tom Cat

My old bones have finally recovered from my recent office trip into the mountains. My mental state however is still undergoing recovery. So I figured before I start writing about the trip, I ought to write about the weeks I endured before it.

When I was a wee bonny baby, carrying my 50 kg bag to school each day, and studying countless books for pointless exams, I used to dream of growing up one day and going to a glamorous office. I used to wonder what it would be like to wear "civil" clothes each day instead of my dull blue and grey school uniform. And how wonderful it would be to not have to attend even a single PTA meeting ever again.

Then I grew up.

My 50 kg school bag has been replaced with a 60 kg laptop bag. Honestly that's how heavy it feels. Office is hardly glamorous considering the people I meet in the cab each day, the amount of FM I have to listen to, and the kind of food I have to eat. "Civil" clothes have become a headache unto themselves...Catty women abound the office. I have on more than one occasion observed a boardroom drama come to a climax with one cat looking at another and saying, "Nice top..Sarojini??" Meow anyone? For the uninitiated, Sarojini is Delhi's export surplus market. Everyone buys it. No one admits it. And PTA meeting. Well its been replaced with the MNC torture method - quaterly evaluation. Often I feel like my functional manager is my class teacher and my manager my daddy. I have to hear what a bad girl I have been in the quarter from both of them. And then I'm sure they discuss me between the two of them also. I can just picture it...

Class Teacher: She has not been doing her homework
Daddy: Really? You know, I give her sufficient time to do it
CT: Well, I know, I see her with her friends quite often...So I'm sure she has the time...But neither flesh nor spirit seem willing
Daddy: You're right. I'll just ground her.

And that's how I find myself working late hours.

Anyway, that's not what this rant is about. In school, I used to also dream of days when March would no longer mean studying for exams. Instead I would have the time to enjoy spring with long walks under trees with leaves of different colors. I thought this year would be one such year. Alas, it was not to be.

I received a merry mail in the last week of Feb announcing that there will be exams in March in office. Essentially to test the skills for which they have hired me. A little late in the day I say, considering I've been using those skills for a year now. There were going to be three exams...One each week of March. So much for spring.

Week 1:

An exam to test my grammar. Went smoothy enough. There were just a couple of glitches when during the exam, I was more fascinated with the invigilator's gorgeous white heels. Honest...They were super sexy. I think they were Ashley. They bore a resemblance to these Jimmy Choo's I saw in this month's Elle. What? You want to know how the exam went? Errrr.....Well....The heels were amazing.

Week 2:

A written or rather typed exam to test how well I can write. I hurt my left hand's middle finger 2 days before the exam. Don't ask me how THAT finger got hurt. Believe it or not, I was just cutting my nails. The finger was filled with puss and pained like hell. I had to get a minor incision to drain it all, but I figured I better do it all after my exam. The fear that a stich may disable my left hand from typing paralyzed me.

Anyhow, I started the exam and typed away with one hand. It was smooth like a baby's bottom. The exam. Not my hand. And I was through with it well ahead of time. Infact I even managed to review my answers once before time was up. Something I absolutely never achieved throughout my education. Feeling very proud of myself, I saved and closed both the documents I was working on. I was feeling particularly happy with myself. And guess what happened. When I tried to re-open my docs, one doc went MIA. I searched high and low, through various temporary folders, I almost dismantled the hard drive...But I never found doc 2. It was something I had been working on for 3 hours! Sysadmin wasn't much help either. He shrugged his shoulders and said...I suggest you just re-create you doc.

!@&#@@#($)_@*#&$

So what did I do? Well, I stayed back...Hurting hand and all. And I re-created the damn doc and gave it in. This is why they say don't count your chickens before they cross the road.

Week 3:

Project presentation before a tough panel. I had the luck of being one of the first presenters. Keeping in line with my luck the past 2 weeks, I didn't have much hope from it. My presentation was on Monday morning. Sunday night, I was still preparing my pitch till 12 in the night. Having planned to reach office early to prepare further, I was going to leave home in the morning at about 6 AM. That gave me about 5 hours of sleep.

Like a good girl, I went to bed at 12 midnight. The nervousness kept me up till about 1. Now my bedroom is placed in a manner that there is a balcony behind it. And just behind my head is a large window. A window with a cooler but no wire mesh or glass. In summers, its quite a relief to have all the fresh air...But this one night...Perhaps it wasn't so safe. Sometime towards 3 AM I heard a thud in the balcony. Sounded like someone had landed outside. Ma and I both got up with a start (I'm afraid of sleeping alone...Don't judge me!).

Ma (in a whisper): Did you hear that? Sounds like someone jumped onto our balcony
Me (in a whisper): Yes
Ma (very very loudly): Kaun Hai??? Who is it??
Me (irritated and loudly): Ma, what the hell makes you think its an English speaking burglar. If he spoke English, he'd be in a call center wouldn't he?
Ma (defensive and weepy): I said in Hindi also!
Me (pacifying but sarcastic): If its a thief, do you honestly think he's going to answer you????

My ma, still sprightly for her age...Climbed on the bed and tried to peep through the window onto the dark balcony to see if she could spot a thief. Since she chose to stand over my hand, there was nothing I could do to help. When I finally managed to get my voice back, I squeeked, "Ma, switch on the bedroom lights..Atleast you'll be able to see outside." Relief poured through my veins as Ma got off my hand and walked over to switch on the light. As our tubelight flickered to life, both of us now peered onto our balcony. We saw nothing. Finally we decided to call it a night. Time - 3:30 AM.

Sleep took over me again, although I was still palpitating at the thought of a burglar in my balcony. Suddenly, there was a loud CRASH and something jumped at the suitcase just behind my headboard...AAAAHHHHH...There was a very loud MEOW and both Ma and I screamed in terror! A cat ladies and gentlemen. A TOM CAT. A BIG BLACK TOM CAT. I don't know who was more scared, the cat or us! The cat streaked out and ran into the other room. Ma and I completely taken aback at this surprise visitor. Time - 4 AM

Ma heard me groan. I reminded her of the ordeal I had to face in just a few hours, and how the lack of beauty sleep was just going to make me cranky. Seeing disaster about to erupt, Ma told me to lie back in bed, cover my face with the quilt and go off to sleep while she hunted out the tom cat.

So while I covered my face, Ma went and got a broom to drive out our midnight intruder. I could hear her thrashing about with the broom. At one point I heard a loud "Stupid Bitch". I couldn't help but smile under the quilt...Evil laughter more likely. As if the expletive wasn't bad enough, Ma started whispering sweet nothings to the tom cat and went "here kitty kitty kitty...Here kitty kitty kitty".

At this point I felt a lumpiness in the quilt. I thought Ma was messing with me. Besides which I wanted to breathe and laugh at the whole "kitty" bit. So I uncovered my head. THE CAT WAS SITTING ON TOP OF ME 2 INCHES AWAY FROM MY FACE.

Tom cat: HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Me: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I quickly covered my face again. Ma ran into the bedroom. The cat got scared and started running up and down my body. I was screaming under the quilt. Ma got into action mode and started trying to hit the "kitty" with the broom. The cat was fast. ma wasn't. She hit me more than the cat. I felt like I was the victim of a village exorcism ceremony. Ma with open hair and broom in hand...Hitting me...Black cat tearing up and down me.

Ma ran and opened the back door to allow the cat to escape. But our kitty wasn't the brightest spark in the woods. He tried to escape from the same window through which he had come. Unfortunately, he was a little too fat to through the sill on the way out. Garfield anyone?

My traumatic night came to an end when the cat finally escaped through the backdoor. Time - 4:45 AM

She'll be back I know. Seeking her vendetta. V for vendetta.

Wake up time - 5:30 AM
Cab pick-up time - 6:15 AM
Presentation time - 11 AM

How did the presentation go?

Well, I don't remember any shoes, and I didn't loose and documents. So that's good news I suppose. I'll find out more when I get my results in April. Maybe at another pseudo PTA meeting!