My dearest cat,
I am Reshma, your hooman. How are you, my adorable woman? Although I call you a cat, you know I am your pet. This has been a well-kept secret, but pardon me a bit, my precious gift! Here, like all other humans, your hooman have spilt it. Nonetheless, you are not like us. Your eyes, unlike our mouths, never utter any undue and untrue things. Pattu, why does your nose smell my nose, but? Does it look like a little rosebud? Or do you wish to be there as a nose stud?
My meow, your mother tongue is entirely new. Is this because it is the vernacular of love? Till now, you haven’t made any comment on disability. Tell me now! What is your thought on my visual debility? And winter is very near, my favourite! Even a pillow will need a blanket. What if you keep on hating it?
Pattu, just a polite request from your pet! Would you be pregnant and breed before the forthcoming spring? My second book is awaiting to be seen by your children. I fucking promise you, my bosom friend! This time, I won’t allow anyone to throw out your black offspring owing to an unjust, orthodox opinion. My love, I won’t! Now, I have learned. I have learned that protecting poems is more important than producing them. So, please, produce a few *Kavis! Your pet is well-prepared to protect all of them, my poet!
Assurance apart, can you hear my heart while converting my breast into your bed? If so, how does it sound? Lub-dub, lub-dub or love-dream, love-dream? Darling, does it express my every ineffable longing? Well, I altogether forgot your heartache, my heart! Where on earth is your beloved? Are we two in the same boat? Oh, no! Though, you seem so bold! Could you teach me to be so, my poet? I am sure that I will tutor you in reading this letter.
Yours respectfully,
Reshma Selvaraj
*Kavi is the name of a black kitten, which was thrown out of my house without my knowledge. And this word also means ‘poem’ in my mother tongue, Tamil.
