CHAPTER 2: Cats and Knives

 A Parent’s Perspective

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Dhub Dhub Dhub Dhub.

Ramesh Venugopal trudged down the hall in his white night kurta. His destination: the masala peanuts packet in the kitchen. His feet plonked on the wooden floor as he stumbled his way through the darkness. His 50-year-old knees creaked like abandoned doors, protesting at the very idea of waking up. The utter blackness in the hall was broken only by the faint yellow glow coming from underneath a door… Ayesha’s door…?? Aiyyo! She was supposed to sleep 2 hours ago! What is she doing awake at 1 AM when she has to leave for school at 7? When will this girl learn… 

He continued grumbling about how she probably was on Instagram or some other kachra* until he reached the door. He took a breath, thinking of what he was going to say, and the masala peanuts he was being denied.

*Kachra is trash/garbage in Hindi

Boom. He opened the door.

Red.

A flash of red.

And then it was gone. 

“H-hi Appa!*” Ayesha chirped with the cheeriness of a child caught holding the cookie jar. She looked pale, or was it the light? He couldn’t tell without his specs.

*Appa means father in South Indian languages (such as Tamil).

“Ayesha, pull up your sleeves.”

“Huh, why?”

“Do it.”

“No!” 

Why’s she doing this? Why wouldn’t she want to pull them up? Unless…

“Do it, Ayesha! What are you hiding?”

She looked so much like a cornered animal staring fearfully up at a bear that he almost felt bad. But no. He had to ensure that his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.

“Fine!”

As she slowly rolled up her sleeves, he saw what he was looking for. What he really, really did not want to see. There, lining her arms, were rows of gashes, blood streaming out of them like lava from the earth. 

“Uh, it was the cat…?” blurted Ayesha.

He looked at her dubiously. As if to corroborate her story, Floofesh leapt off the bed and sauntered off with an air of nonchalance. Of course it was the stupid cat! How could he have thought it was… no how silly of him! He mumbled something about bedtimes and bandages and groggily plodded away.

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