cats again, and morning walks

my father finds some exquisite pleasure in dragging me out for morning walks. ever since i left home, i have been prone to wake up at sensible hours like 7.30 in the morning. i dislike nightouts, but somehow, can't seem to avoid them. so my father drags me,, kicking and screaming for morning walks. actually it is not as much kicking and screaming as it is simply this vague out of body experience which involves exchanging early morning small talk with friendly neighbours. sometimes the morning walk ends with a small detour to the market where we end up chatting to the machhwalla, whatzisname Sushanta? anyway, thats mostly it. watching southpointers picking fights at their bus stops while their moms copy their homework. always fun to realise that i will never go through that again. this once, while looping around the high school maath, this beral came walking by. of all things, it was wearing a liberal daub of laal shindoor on its head. for some reason, it reminded me irresistably of a barir bou out to get flowers for the morning pujo. and as if to keep that impression intact, it stopped and very politely meowed a good morning to us and then went on its way.