Indulgence

rain

Soren Kierkegaard
The door to happiness opens outward.

The rain has begun to fall. Today, I woke up at 5:30 in the afternoon, the skies were dark and lightnight punctuated the darkness; thunder rumbled in the distance. A cold breeze swept through my open window and since I fell asleep wearing nothing but my boxers, I was chilled.

I took a shower and prepared to go to work. I put on a long-sleeved shirt, my bonnet and a pair of beige slacks. I prepared an overnight bag thinking I'd be sleeping overnight at the office. I stepped out of my condo and it began to rain. I made it to the MRT in time. It had begun to pour and I barely made it to the office dry. I was a little drenched but nothing too serious.

The rains have come. I'm hoping this is the last of the this blistering heat that has made things just a little unbearable these past few days.

I went to work and checked some stuff. Later, I went down to smoke. This stray cat that has made the area of our office had come and begun rubbing herself on my legs. The gesture was just so sweet, I bent my back to scratch behind her ears, the back of her neck and underneath her jaw. I remembered my sister's cat liked that very much. So did this one.

I remembered my sister's cat, Sissypuss and then the stray we picked up, Pussyplus. Both cats were darlings. And while Pussyplus insisted on her stray days, only coming home when it would rain and to feed; she barely made her presence known but did, once in a while, shower us with some affection. But mostly, she stayed outside chasing rats and occasionally, we would see her stalking the neighbors roof, trying out her luck with some maya birds. Sissypuss was a house cat through and through; a pure breed Siamese. If I am not mistaken, she's a blue point, I think that's what they're called.

Sissypuss was both a darling and a terror. For some strange reason, she knew when you were feeling bad and she would be affectionate, purring while rubbing herself on your leg. Despite what sadness you were feeling, you'd lift her up and stroke her, scratching the back of her ears or below her jaw, places she couldn't scratch herself. It's as if, by asking us to shower her with affection, we would forget our problems. It was in the act of nurturing or taking care of another that we would find some level of peace. And it did work.

Other times, she would stalk us, hiding beneath furniture and, without warning, claw and bite our unsuspecting legs. She'd then run at the sound of the shriek and the frantic calling of her name. Before her arrival, I would be alone in the living room, dancing to whatever music I had decided to put on. This agitated movement would cause her to enter predatory mode and attack me relentlessly. During Physical Education, in my gym shorts, everybody would ask me why my legs were filled with nicks and scratches. "We have a cat at home," would be my quick reply. Question answered, heads nodding in affirmation and we'd go on to our activity.

I remember the old house in Lee Street where we used to live. I grew up there. 11 years of my life had been spent in that house. I remember the huge windows in the living room. It was pretty much 90% of the whole wall. There was a ledge that you could sit on and watch the garden where my yaya (nanny) had grown a beautiful garden of gumamelas and bounganvillas (not sure of the spelling). When it would rain and there was nothing to do, I'd sit on the ledge of those windows and look out at the rain, washing everything down with a gentle shower. The sound is magickal.

I remember this very fondly and all of a sudden. I wonder why but it leaves a smile on my face. It has been a very cruel summer. I welcome the coming of the rain. For me, it signals the end of something. This something is not particularly painful, more like gruelling or exhausting. It's over. It's done. On to the next chapter...

posted by wanggo @ 3:12 AM