Unravelled by a magical cat

Thoughts on loss and togetherness

A little cat has unravelled us.

In life, ‘Cool Cat’ Maya was our joy and delight. Whimsical, fleet-footed and nifty, she spread a magical cheer that lifted the spirits of everyone she met. Diminutive in size, but with the power to reel people into her circle of love, she was a people-cat, surrounded by human admirers, especially children. A beautiful child, a free spirit, a law unto herself.

In death, she has pulled that string of grief that we bury deep inside us to protect ourselves from the darkness within. In pulling the forbidden grief string, Maya has undone us all. The world cannot quite be the same without her.

Nupur, Rachna and me, best friends who have stuck together through ‘thick’ (think high school euphoria, milestone celebrations, adventurous road trips and the construction of a wondrous found family) and ‘thin’ (the usual share of temporary misunderstandings that must befall the best of relationships) are now enveloped in a smog of grief that is putting Delhi’s air emergency to shame.

Jigar ka tukda, a piece of our hearts - Maya

Maya’s passing feels intensely personal because, with Maya coming into our lives, the three of us bonded intensely over parenting. Rachna took up her role as a cat mother with much enthusiasm. In the process, she became an even better quasi-mom (if that was even possible) to Bela (Nupur’s little one) and Aadyaa (mine). Over time, in our conversations, Bela-Aadyaa-Maya became a trifecta too, often being used interchangeably while relating anecdotes or discussing challenges. The three girls shared an unusual trait, a unique combination of resilience and vulnerability that evokes admiration and concern in equal measure. As moms, we prided ourselves on their every achievement, laughed about goof-ups and collectively worried about every hurdle. Maya’s loss is unbelievable and irreparable because she was our collective baby. The little one has left a galaxy-sized hole in our hearts that will take a lifetime to heal.

For me, Maya’s departure has also opened a portal into an inner world of kaleidoscopic memories that fuse intense grief and togetherness. The togetherness of worrying over the illnesses of parents and children. The togetherness of finding solutions to complicated problems - a diffident child, a nagging parent, a maverick cat. The togetherness of holding space when one of us is battling career setbacks, illnesses or relationship problems. The togetherness of anticipating a parent’s death, of bidding loved ones utterly painful final farewells.

A crazy memory pops up from way back in 2002, of driving back home together from the crematorium with my dead Daddy’s ashes, cracking all the jokes he used to, singing the songs he loved. The pain of losing him was somewhat cushioned by the company of friends who knew what I needed when grief felt too fresh, unbearable, insurmountable.

We were together again at the pet crematorium on the fateful night of Maya’s passing. Once again, a traumatic experience was made a tad easier by the support of loving friends. Returning to collect Maya’s ashes in broad daylight, seeing pet graves marked with flowers, soft toys, messages and plants, I thought about how desperate humans are for deep emotional connection and unconditional love. In a world that often feels stripped of meaning, we are lucky we have each other, and that Maya chose us to receive her no-holds-barred love, the memory of which will help us piece ourselves together again. To love some more, in this lifetime and beyond it. Till we meet again, magical cat!