Pankaj Tripathi | Arvind Jain
T.S. ELIOT’S fondness for cats yielded the most delightful collection of light verse, Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats, which went on to inspire one of the longest running musicals on Broadway. When Mark Twain’s “large and intensely black” Bambino went missing, he put out an advertisement with a $5 reward in the New York American. Charles Dickens was so upset when his favourite feline Bob died, that he went on to mount an ivory letter opener with its stuffed paw.
Pankaj Tripathi, a 31-year-old interior designer, who shares his one BHK south Delhi flat with nine cats, does not quite care about the illustrious history of male writers and their feline companions. Two years since he adopted Chikloo, a stray kitten with soft brown spots on plush white coat, he has nurtured a clan of cats in his mousetrap of a house. “Whoever said they are selfish? Cats are as loving and loyal as dogs, even though my life has turned upside down,” says Tripathi, who left Bhilwara in Rajasthan 10 years ago to study in Delhi. Tripathi’s face and arms have tiny scars and scratches, he looks slightly sleep deprived, his house perpetually reeks of fish food and his neighbours are not exactly friendly, but Tripathi is happy to upturn the “crazy cat lady” cliché our cat-wary society clings to.
Unlike his patriotic father—a retired CRPF personnel who was once honoured for his services in the 1965 Indo-Pak war—Tripathi is more emotional about his coterie of cats. He is busy putting the final touches to Cat Asia, "India's first-ever all-purpose cat camp". To be held at Delhi's Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium on December 7, this daylong cat convention is inspired by Meow Fest Toronto and US-based Jackson Galaxy's Cat Camp. Tripathi has approached international pet food and accessories companies to participate in the event. "There will be cat grooming sessions, hundreds of cat merchandising products, [sessions] on cat adoption do's and don'ts and, most importantly, full body medical checks, free vaccination and neutering services," says Tripathi. "We are inviting a team of India's best veterinarians. In fact, I am talking to doctors from the Royal Veterinary College in London."
Salil Seth
Whether or not Tripathi manages to pull off this coup of a cat carnival, he bears the mark of an evolved male who does not expect ceaseless gratification. Anthony Lane, in the foreword to The Big New Yorker Book of Cats, wrote, “Cat people know what it is to be adored and rejected, with no explanation, in the space of a single minute, with the purr switched off like an alarm clock.”
Salil Seth, assistant professor at the Central University of Jammu, wakes up at five every morning to feed his five cats. He, too, is 31, single and living alone. The deaf, blue-eyed Hazel—Seth’s most beloved—howls with hunger at the crack of dawn, even as the pure, white Persian Izhan jumps on to the kitchen slab to be served first. “It does not matter whether I eat breakfast or not, my kids need to be fed on time. I am very particular about the brand of cat food,” says Seth. He had to pay extra to a supplier in Punjab to stock up kilos of a sub-brand of Royal Canin when Amazon stalled services during the communication blockade following the revocation of Article 370.
Seth rented a large, two-bedroom apartment with balconies and a garden to ensure that his cats had space to play around. He has had various pets but cats have taught him real affection and care, he says. “Their style of bonding is not very expressive. When they sit on my chest, or give a slight forehead bump or a nose-rub, I know they are happy. They have a sharp sixth sense. Whenever I feel low, they automatically come to me,” says Seth. His most expensive, at Rs20,000, is Zara, a Tuxedo Persian. Recently, in a management book he co-authored for the ministry of human resource development, the names of Izhan, Hazel and Zara find a mention in the acknowledgements. “I had to ignore them while writing this book for which I feel very sorry,” wrote Seth.
Shadow
Vashu Bhatia, 21, is also a “cat-chelor” like Tripathi and Seth. But he is pursuing his BCom degree in Haridwar, where there are just two vets. “When I visit these vets, they tell me I am the first cat owner to visit them. They do not even have basic vaccines against rabies and distemper. I had to get these injections on demand,” says Bhatia, who gets all his cat supplies online. Moreover, his three-year-old cat Shadow is jet black and considered unlucky in the temple town. “More than any animal, I trust cats. They do not behave like pets. They act like owners of the house. They are not dependent on humans,” says Bhatia. “Bachelor life is supposed to be carefree, without rules or responsibility. [But] cats are sticklers of routines and schedules. Mine have also synced with Shadow.”
Even 30-year-old Rahul Prakash, working for KPMG in Delhi, says it is unheard of for a man to adopt a cat in his hometown, Patna. But, for the last year, he has been playing house with his pet, Ozzy. She has reduced the pressure of being single in the city. Cats, he says, are compassionate without being clingy, and attached even if aloof. “It is like a perfect relationship,” he says. “It is like you have your own space and I have mine. Can it get any better?”