25

I have a very good friend whose name is Jawahar Shah. Jawahar Shah is a very cool guy. He lives at AIIMS Campus and is in his 2nd year at college. His house is nearby, and whenever I am bored, all I need to do is give him a call, and find out if he's free, which he usually isn't. Although we don't talk too much these days, being busy in our own little lives, he was, until a few years back, one of my best friends. We did a lot of stuff together, and during our school summer vacations, we were virtually inseparable.

But this post is not about Jawahar Shah. This post is about Jawahar's cats.

Till some time back, Jawahar used to keep pet cats. He had just two or three to begin with, and they had really cool names. However, anyone who knows anything about cats, knows that cats multiply at rates that cannot be called 'slow' by any stretch of imagination. 'Rather fast' would be the more appropriate phrase. So Jawahar's pet cat family grew, and within an year, he had seven or eight cats.

Every time a new kitten was born, Jawahar had to rack his brains for a new name. Inspite of this, the names that he gave his cats and kittens were impeccable, flawless, with no scope for improvements. Each cat got a unique name, depending on its gender, behavior and defining physical characteristics. The family grew, and Jawahar spent days and nights thinking of cat names, always coming up with nothing but the best. Once, in an effort to find a more long term solution to the problem, he started naming all his cats after 'The Lion King' characters. So for an year, the problem was solved, and Simba, Mufasa,Timon, Pumba, and Nala ran free on the grounds of E-81, AIIMS Campus.

But a day came, when Jawahar ran out of names. Four years after he had started keeping pet cats, he had exactly 24 cats with perfectly suited names, but no new names. Jawahar tried his best to keep his cats from procreating, but his attempts were thwarted by Mother Nature. A 25th kitten was born. And it had to be named.

So Jawahar called it 25.

25 is now a healthy cat, and has grown to be extremely friendly and fun-loving. Even now, when I visit Jawahar's old home (he shifted a few years back), I make sure I meet 25, the golden-furred cat that still lives there.

You must be wondering why I told you this weird, seemingly purposeless story. But it has a purpose. There is a special reason I have recounted this particular event that took place in my life more than 5 years ago. And the reason is as follows.

This is my 25th post on this blog, and I thought it fitting to dedicate it to Jawahar, one of my best friends and the most powerful influence on me in my pre-teen years, and his cats, especially 25.