What is love? Is it an adhesion? No, love is an obsession. We can love anyone and, of course, anything. The love I show towards a man is not better than the love I show towards the moon. Like that, the love I have for my tom is not less remarkable than the love I have for my mom. Love is love, and every love is equal. All do have their impact and importance in my life. If I distinguish them, I will degrade their love. And wait! I can’t do that.

An intelligent idiot asked me, “Reshma, it’s just a cat. Why are you so depressed?”

No, it’s not just a cat. It is my cat, and I can’t find that. For five days, it didn’t even come to eat. So, I am deeply disturbed.

Giving life is easy, but showing love is hard. Pattu gave life to him a year ago. She fed him with her milk for a few days and left him alone in my house. Without his mother, he was deadly sad then as I am without him now. When I was tediously writing, he was tirelessly waiting. We both were sitting for our respective mothers.

On such a day, I felt that someone was seeing me from behind. I stopped writing and turned back, only to see the cat. Only then did I come to notice his brown eyes, which reminded me of my ex. Just like that, I fell in love with him.

I shouted in silence, “I have got my Chandra again! I have got my Chandra again!” When I called him Chandra, I saw him widening his eyes.

“I love you! Do you love me, Chandra?” I asked. “Meow!” he answered. What else should I expect him to do to prove his love?

There is a saying: “You should love others if you want to be loved by others.” I started to love him and to be loved by him, and so did he.

The next morning when I woke up, I saw him sleeping near me. Usually, I allowed no one to touch my bedsheets. He was the first man to do so. His sharp nails gripped my blanket so tightly. I don’t think that my future husband will do this. How lovable my cat is! Like the lyrics of Vairamuthu, he didn’t want to leave, even though it was sleep.

I lifted him nicely and made him sleep on the folded bedsheets, and tried to get up from the bed. He woke up and ran towards the bathroom. How did he know that I would go to the toilet after sleep?


“Chandra, what are you doing here? I have to lock it. Please, do move!”

“Meow… Meow…”

He started to rub my legs with his body. No foreplay can be more pleasurable than this of his if you ask me.

“Okay, be here, my cat man!”

These were my everyday’s early mornings. My day would start with him and end with him. He would make me laugh and learn, but I wouldn’t even think for a second that he would make me cry and mourn. My gentleman did those, too.

Those pair of ears had heard my two years. Those brown eyes had seen my red tears. Those legs had shown me everything apart from sex. That moustache was known to fix. That tongue would lick when I felt sick. Those nails wouldn’t even leave any snails.

Love is love when you accept and respect your beloved the way they are. I accepted him when he came home with dead rats, and he respected me when I worked with dirty shirts. We knew that we had a duty, and so we couldn’t maintain our beauty.

Today, I have lost his love. It’s tough to live without that love. Though, I believe in time. I am damn sure that it will take care of this scar. Though the moon – my Chandra – is nowhere, time will give me a star.

(Written on 22 Feb 2021)

About the author

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Reshma Selvaraj

Hello, my name is Reshma Selvaraj. I am a graduate with a bachelor's degree in English. I am from a village called Kombadi Thalavaipuram in Tuticorin, a southern district in the Indian state of Tamil Nadu. Tamil is my mother tongue. Though I studied English as a second language during my schooling, I enjoyed reading English poems and essays. As years passed by, I enrolled to study the literature of English in a college. That was when I began to read a lot of books both in Tamil and English. Thus I started to have a dream of becoming a writer. I have already written and published two short stories. The first short story, entitled “I have an interview tomorrow”, depicts the life of a disabled graduate searching for a job, and the second short story, titled “Aval Oru Maram”, defines the deforestation happening in the Western Ghats of India. This blog is to show the world that I am becoming what I wanted to become, and I hope that it will help you to become what you want to become.

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