Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts
February 21, 2016
November 20, 2015
Woman and her cat
“Wait! Stop! Hello lady! “. I suddenly heard a child-like voice asking
me to stop. I turned around and saw a tiny old lady running towards me as fast
as she could. A wavy silver hair, a long
pink frock with a silver cross around her neck, a beak-like nose and a wide
smile, this is what I noticed in the few minutes she took to reach me. I gave
her a smile in return. I was out with my camera in a tiny by-lane of Panjim.
She was short of breath by all the running. She asked me in a gasping
voice: “Why do you do photography?” I
thought: “here comes the usual question I face when people see me with my
camera!” I politely responded with my usual answer: “because I love it, and I am not a
professional photographer but just doing it as a hobby”.
I always know the question that will
follow the first one, so I hurriedly answered both. “Oh! Then it is OK! I saw
you photographing my house. Why did you do it?” She asked. “Oh, it seems I am
in trouble! “ I thought. I politely and smilingly explained her that I liked
the looks of her window and the out of season Christmas decoration I could see
there. “So did you see the cat?” She asked me. I replied in the negative as I
had not seen any. She then said: “You must photograph the cat at the window.
Many foreigners stop to photograph that. “I also felt that would be an interesting
shot to capture. I told her that, on my return journey, I would definitely stop
and capture her cat at the window. The thought of a good shot excited me. I
walked away saying goodbye to her. After a few steps, I turned back and saw her
looking at me with her wide smile. She gave me a big wave. I waved back and
walked on.
After an hour or so, I re-entered the lane where I had met her. I looked
around, searching for her, expecting her to jump in front of me reminding me of
my promise to shoot her cat. I neared her house, got my camera ready for the
shot. I then saw a lovely young girl sitting at the window reading a book. I decided
to ask her about the cat: “Hello! Where is your cat?” She lifted her eyes
reluctantly from her book and asked me:
“Which cat?” I was surprised by her question but still tried: “The one which sits here and is frequently
photographed.”
She got up, looked at me strangely with a hint of
fear in the eyes. She asked me in a trembling voice: “Did you meet the lady
with the silver hair, a pink frock and a cross around the neck?” Before I could
even reply, she quietly closed the window.
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