Cats, Ladies
I hate cats. And women who have a fetish for cats. And I’m saying this in spite of the fact that I have a large female readership (euphemism) immensely in love with cats whose sentiments might have been hurt in an intense manner due to this statement. But I repeat, I hate cats.
And there isn’t any reason I can think of to support the hatred. It is another thing that I like pussycats for obvious reasons sometimes, I also like Dan Bilzerian’s cat because it is rich and anyone rich should be liked and adored or at least that’s how it is in India.
Talking about India, I find Indian stray cats very dirty. I haven’t seen stray cats of other nations though, but when I say Indian stray cats, it creates a false impression that I have been to many nations and studied the life of stray cats there. And it feels good to make false impressions. Anyway, dirty Indian stray cats might be a reason why I hate cats if you insist on knowing one.
When I was a kid I once saw a stray cat with filthy paws and filthier ears. Since my religion teaches me to uplift the downtrodden, and since I consider filthy a part of downtrodden, I decided to help poor kitty. I didn’t want to go and introduce myself to the cat directly because that won’t have looked right. So just to ensure that it becomes aware of my existence, I pelted a tiny fraction of a stone at it upon which it growled at me. I like to think that it was a cute purr, but what the hell, truth was it growled. And since it growled, I pelted another stone in its direction, fairly large to be mistaken for an apple if you ignored the color, texture, shape and composition. I did this noble act to tell the cat that I wanted to be friends with it and help it clean the paws and ears. But the cat couldn’t imagine the apple like I did and plunged it’s filthy claws in my skin as a reply. You see, I don’t have a great history with cats.
My earliest memory of a cat brings to mind the image of a gray cat in my neighborhood that had gray eyes and was always very grim. A reader of vivid genres since childhood, I had a book of horror stories back then named ‘Blood Curdling Tales’ that had a cat’s photo on the cover. And that cat’s photo resembled the neighborhood cat. And that freaked me out. Right since then, anytime cats are mentioned, I find this image of gray cat haunting me like Edgar Allan Poe was haunted by a black cat in one of his stories. Apart from this, I later learned in school that cats have eight nipples. Isn’t that gross?
Cat loving women is another story. I once knew a girl who loved cats. She was so crazy about the four legged filthy mammal that she believed she was a cat herself and had long nails that she probably called claws but she didn’t kill mice with those nails, I remember she used to kill lice in her hair using the long pointy keratin that grew on her finger tips. All these things made me sure about the fact that she was a cat. But she could talk like others so I thought she was a girl too. This led my mind to a state of chaos and I ended up despising women who love cats.
Cats aren’t bad I know. Even women who love cats can be compassionate and charming. And I also know that one cat woman from the past shouldn’t be a reason to despise the whole clan and it is largely possible that I might fall in love with a girl who cannot live without cats. That would be scary. Because there are a lot of cats and even more cat loving women in the world. But I’m going to hate both of them because I’ve been hating them since a long time and it would be unfair if I change my styles all of a sudden. But if you are a woman, you have a cat, and you’re willing to marry me and let me write about both of you in a despicable manner, I can love you both as an exception. If interested, please mail me at shivrajadhav221@gmail.com
Looks like the cat is okay with the deal. Attaboy.