Skip to main content


Showing posts from November, 2013

Roseeecozy for Roseee

So where do stray cats take refuge when nights turn cold and dark? Darkness, of course, they can manage, but cold?
Though Roseee, like me, is fond of taking long walks during cold, foggy nights, she craves a cozy corner for her nightly catnaps. We know for sure by the way she starts knocking our doors and windows at night. She wants to come in and cuddle up, but she wants her independence too…a room of her own.
“So what do we do?” the Lilliputians ask.
I assume the mantle of a sage. “We can build her a home.”
The suggestion ushers in ripples of excitement that reverberate through the entire Land of Lilliputians. Omar, the master builder, has, as always, ideas aplenty. He immediately starts sifting his brain. “We can use a big box to make a house.”
The idea seems plausible and we set to work.
“What will we call the house?” I am still in my thinking Buddha mode.
We all start brainstorming.  Zainab, an extremely organized little girl that she is, brings a copy and starts jotting down the names …

Roseee Goes to Vet

Roseee, a stray cat that she is, likes to go for long walks all on her own; she doesn’t hang about our place for long. But one day Roseee stays at our place, eat nothing, and sleeps.  If it had only been her marathon sleeping session, we wouldn’t have been worried. But she coughs a real couch, not once, not twice, but three times. 
Zainab tells me: “Roseee caught it from you.”

Yes, I was down with a protracted flu &fever, so bad that it made my jaws ache as if they were being hammered upon. I think about Roseee’s jaws and announce: “I will have to find a vet for her.”   
There are screams of excitement and they all want to go with me. This uncalled for enthusiastic response to Roseee’s illness feels ominous and I start dreading the trip. “I didn’t say picnic, I said vet.”
There’s a chorus. “You can’t go without us.”
I am good at recognizing commands that just can’t be defied. So we pick Roseee’s basket, it is also her makeshift bed, and set out on the journey. Only the basket in questi…

Apple’s School

Saif is teary-eyed and has an injured look on his face.

“Aymen has fired me and she didn’t even give me my pay,” Saif tells me when I ask the reason.
“Apple hired you, and then fired you! And she pays you too…to do what?” I am confused and curious.
“Aymen, your Apple, runs a school. It’s called Kids Club. Maheen, Zainab and I teach there, and she pays us 30 rupees per day.”
“There seem to be too many teachers. Are there any students?” I ask.
“Omar, Roshan, and Mohib are the students.”
I learn more about the school. It becomes operational every time Apple comes to Lahore, three to four times a year. Classes are held for two days or even one day depending on how long the ‘principal’ is staying here. The duration of her absence is considered holidays, and the students are required to revise and practice whatever they learn during rigorous school sessions. There are three students and almost four teachers because sometimes Apple likes to take a class or two. Two of the teachers are sixth grader…