Recap of the near past.

Long time no blog. Here's a quick recap.

First off: It gives me great pleasure to wish my dear BB a very happy belated birthday dated the 4th of December. As he has himself mentioned, BB has finally turned 21 and can now start drinking Red Bull and other poisons at parties. Menny, menny congratulations, Jimmiya. Will wait for full debrief of the debauch party you must have had.

Here's Jimbo with his gorgeous daughter Zara, who unfortunately is spending a lot of time with him and is thus developing some similarities with the Pater.

Secondly: Had a fun trip to Assisi (halfway up to Brausuna), for a couple of weddings. Huge numbers, great hospitality, simple and wonderful food. Burp.

Thirdly: Eid al Adha came and went. (So did the two sheep we had with us for said occasion. One day they were loved domestics, the next they were barbecue.)

Love the live transmission of Hajj and the gorgeous booming "Labbaik Allah humma labbaik" prayer. Also, must mention how I was foolishly trying to spot Badi Pupho and family among the millions there.
NB: Eid Al Adha is the Eid of Sacrifice and the backdrop is the story of Prophet Ibrahim's (Abraham's) willingness to sacrifice his son Ismail (Ishmael) to Allah. Very lovely tradition. Please Google it.
The spirit of this Eid entails that we sacrifice that which we are attached to, which is why we should try and rear the animals ourselves for a few days and then offer them at Eid. It's always a little tragic at the final moment but that's how it is.
For this Eid we had a studly ram called Baa Baa and another little fella called No Name right here at Doda. Got chokey at the final moment because you're supposed to look at the animal just then (sacrifice, okay????), but it was done.

As per the rules of Eid al Adha, at least two thirds of the meat is to be distributed to family, friends and more importantly, the poor and needy. Which means we had a lot of meat coming in from everyone else and we had a lot of meat to distribute across cities, towns and villages. Most challenging logistical enterprise.

And Finally: Our school opens for admissions tomorrow. My Ma and I are starting a 'finishing school' here in Doda. For grown-up kids who've had schooling and college, but, because the education system here is so bleddy good, they really aren't ready to get jobs anywhere. We're throwing in a mix of English fluency, etiquette training, open discussions on current affairs and general knowledge, a little confidence building yadda yadda yadda and hopefully we'll soon have a bunch of polished young ones come out say silly things like, "Excuse me. The world is my oyster."

Insha'Allah.

Update concludes.

To Bob

Till such time as that happens [me come there], you come and visit Ind-yeah! Apparently it's shining. Or rising. Or poised. I'm not sure which. The media keeps on giving us different verbs every fortnight.

Bye, boys. See you later.

"My life closed twice before its close;
It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
A third event to me,
So huge, so hopeless to conceive,
As these that twice befell.
Parting is all we know of heaven,
And all we need of hell."
-Emily Dickinson

The day after Eid after an unusual silence from Boomsa when I called her to chit-chat and find out were she had been during the festivities, she gave me the news. Li'l Joey was gone. The street dogs got him. And Boo didn't want to tell me over Eid. For which I am grateful.

Be at peace, Jo darling. You were much loved and didn't you know it. I had brought you truckloads of food and would have loved to see you shovel your way through it.
Here's Jo when he just came home with Boomsa as a baby.

This was the Monday immediately after Eid. 15th October, 2007. I went over to Boo's house to hang out with her and take solace in Hot-Cross-Bonz. Who I was SO GLAD TO SEE because it had been a while.
(I have no shame in admitting that I felt far more strongly for Bonzo than Jo-Cat, obviously because I hardly knew the little darling. I had met him a few times for a few hours and he was endearing as dammit, but Bonz is my firstborn and he's been with Boo and I since way back when. There's no comparison.) So the sudden news of Joey's death put things in jarring perspective. I drank Bonz in that day. He was being a babe as usual. He gave me all the attitude he had saved up especially to throw my way, he turned his back on me, he walked away in utter disdain several times, used me as a scratching post at will and had me begging for more. As usual. He is, of course the only man who's ever made me beg for his affections. We watched TV where Bonz was especially enthralled by a pet show. On puppies, even.Bonzo loved the sheer khorma I had made for Eid. He pigged out on a lot of it. A LOT. He was fattened, I was flattered. It worked well for the both of us. While in the kitchen Bonzo amused me by wondering about a certain black ant that was working his way towards somewhere under the fridge. Here's a video. Please note his darling meowing: "What IS this thing?" and his utter disbelief when Ant escapes.


Apart from this video, I took several pictures and videos of Bonz on my phone. That's the last set I'll ever have. More's the pity. Bonzo was great onscreen.
Bonz and I played for hours that Monday. We hadn't done Socker for a while, which is our game of soccer played with rolled-up socks. In the absence of sock-rolls, I used soft chewy balls, his old buddy Party Pooh and other assorted throwies. Much fun and exercise later, Boo came home and we continued the games till late into the night. Hot Bonz demonstrated amazing theatrics while pursuing and clawing the ball etc.
I went home after Boo announced she would cancel gym plans and that this indoor exercise was far better than anything else. I nodded in agreement.
The next day, I went to Vellara Junction and procured excellent fun items: a mini-cricket set with 2 plastic bats and balls. And a Buzz Lightyear tennis/squash/badminton/what-have-you twin racket set. If we were going to play, we'd do it in style.
Tuesday the 16th was even more fun than the previous evening. Bonzo was in his element. He did a few nifty moves involving upending the potted palms. He played donkey in the middle, on the side, ahead and behind. He banged his head no less than 29 times against various doors, beds, sofas and chairs. In spite of us having moved a lot of the movable furniture around till we had a clear playing field inside the house.
I have no pictures of that last day with Bonz. I thought there was time enough for that. This was to be our daily workout regime, n'est pas? I said bye to Boo and Bonz at around 2130 pm and rode home to the boondocks.
17th October, Wednesday afternoon. I let myself in at Boo's house. I waited to hear the tinkle-tinkle of BonzoBells running up to disregard me and frisk me for food. Nothing. He wasn't home.
I twiddled my thumbs, read the newspaper, called up Boo to complain about Bonzo being a rowdy loafarr type, went out to the balcony several times to call out to him, practiced come-hither looks in front of the mirror, performed this act on the balcony and, in the end, resorted to the one medium all idiots use to while away time: I switched on the telly.
Boo came home in a while. We pretended to be casual about Bonzo's long absence. "I hate it when he does this." "Bugger's eaten his meals and taken off to paint the town red, eh?" "Hanging out with the boys, is he?"
Inside, we were both worried but we didn't say so.
I spent some more time with Boo waiting for Bonz and left for home feeling not-so-good.
And the next day, Thursday now, Boo called me early in the morning. Bonzo had not returned.
That day I searched the streets over and over. I called out to Bonz in lanes and alleys I'd never visited before. I spoke with many strangers, most of whom were really sweet. Some couldn't be bothered about missing cats. I even walked into someone's house because I heard mewing there. It turned out to be a very nice lady with 2 cats of her own. They were outdoor-access cats and much smaller than Bonz. I left her house feeling hopeful. Kids and security guards were especially concerned, I found.
Many times that day I came across people who were laughing at me because I happened to be crying. How anyone can do that is something Boo and I discussed later and came up with no answers to. I put up basic posters all around the neighborhood. Creeps started calling in to chat me up using Bonz as an excuse. One creepy 40-something b@#^%$% actually followed me around when I was putting up posters and started pestering me because he was Kashmiri and thrilled to bits I was as well. How does that work? "Hey, you lost a pet? Want to hear me lie about me seeing him and then ask you personal questions about your life?"
On the upside, the anger makes one forget about the grief for a while.
Friday morning: A security guard from a nearby apartment complex calls me and says he's seen Bonzo's body in a dump. There's no mistake because he saw the collar. Titla was a sweetheart and imediately drove me there. I showed the guard Bonzo's photos. He confirmed.

Titla and I waited for Boomsa to come home. Sushma returned soon as well. We sat together, the four of us that day, talking for hours, and it was a little comforting.
I got up to go home where no one is very big on cats, even my Bonz. My affection for Bonz and Jo was seen as an amusing aberration. Well, haw haw. I have only this as an insipid excuse to be grumpy and sad at home. Boo is in a far worse place. She has to come home to a new silence and this will take getting used to. Be strong, Boo.*Call me anytime and we'll go away.* Hug*
Friends who were unbelievably sweet and supportive over the next few days, I thank you.
Tits: You are my lifeline.
Jellicle, Soulmia, Pinkah, Ruth, Giggles: My love and gratitude.
Bob: You asked! ;-)

I love you, Bonz. And you, Joey.
And now, enough, no more.

All videos and pics of the boys will be up on my You Tube and Picasa pages soon. For their legions of fans.

Tribute to Bob

Jimbo, I refuse to accept responsibility for the near-miss on Monday. Pttth. Take it back.
As fellow-heart-shattered-cousins, we must stand together in these difficult times and try and heal the wounds that recent events have wrought upon our tortured souls..... *violin undulates in background*
I must confess that I never prayed your recommended dosage of nafal namaaz. I feel deeply for the international text messages you kept on sending as reminders, but but but... I just didn't. I have so much Qadhaa-e-Umri to make up, it's not funny. Do I make up my Qadhaa or pray Nawafil? Come on, you're a sensible boy. You have to understand! [Saab is becoming insanely defensive now. She must stop.]
But I sent hundreds of Durood, lots of Ayat-al-Kursi and an unending stream of dua'as for things to swing Pakistan's way, esp once Misbah started his match-saving heroics. To think it all came to no good. [Probably on account of all the baddua'as I had been sending their way earlier...] At least we got some sawaab out of it if nothing else.

I can just picture Misbah singing to himself, that fantastic teeny-boppy song by Junaid Jamshed, "Hum kyon chalein uss raah par.. etc".
Which obviously lead him to play that 'SuperScooper, Lights are gonna find me' shot. Gaaaaak!

Anyway, enough. No more. Take it back.