Just like Ginger

 It was at the juncture, where the enigma of the night was peeling away to make way for the spiritually percieved wee hours of just another working day, when I heard a feeble ruckus from beneath my bed. Ginger had given birth to a bunch of kittens, tucked under her forelimbs. She herself was barely a year old then.
She had come as a birthday gift to me and has been a cynosure of our eyes since then. My mom who had been eternally apprehensive about beings that commute in fours, started liking pets thanks to her.
Ginger's this typical pussycat-narcissistic with an elan and unpretentiously boisterous. Her daily routines consisted of steady hibernation punctuated by timely meals and occasional sporting inclinations. When we thought adulthood was a longshot then, she was handling maternity like a pro.

It was something to observe, the metamorphosis from a carefree young cat to a doting mother. They say that cats aren't expressive and our cannibalistic with their own offspring, but Ginger made our home resonate with the warmth of maternal love. Motherhood is indeed the most beautiful phase, seeing her nurture her creation made me respect her beyond just the adoration. It won't be far fledged to say that her maternity added a dimension to me-sensitivity.

Over the next few weeks, she allowed us to fraternize with those adorable little things, bundle of joy they were. She would just observe all of their shenanigans from a calling distance, like a watchful parent overseeing her toddler go about in a playground.
We are taught values right from a very young age so that we grow up to judge people with our self styled ethical reasoning.Our dogmatic lifestyle doesn't allow us to soak in the moment and just live every drop of it without feeling guilty.For we have an ambition to decorate, an ivory tower to build and more importantly a society to answer. Maybe ulterior motives and agendas constitute our sixth sense, our perceived cutting edge over animals.
While Mother nature keeps motherhood at bay from our species for a good quarter century at least, here she bestows the forbidden fruit on a furry-five sensed creature in her very first year of existence.Coming to think of the paradox, the time between being a naive kitten to mothering her own litter had just been a few months for Ginger.

All things good come to an end. We knew from the time Ginger came home that we couldn't keep have another cat as ours is a office-cum-residence. So we had started scouting for interested adopters to give away the kittens, for they were starting to get inseparable with every passing day. But we always had this unsettling thought in our heads as to how Ginger would handle the separation.It was that hideous act that had to be done, of separating the mother from her young ones.
We sent Ginger to a pet care for neutering and in the meanwhile gave away the kittens to a local pet hostel with a very heavy heart. But if that was heavy, what was to follow suit sent us on a one-way spiral of guilt.  As soon as Ginger came back from her surgery, she started searching for her little ones in every nook and corner of the house for the next few weeks. Ever heard a cat cry,well it's the most painful tug at even the most resolute of hearts.God forbid us for what we did to her.

But as time passed, her unrequited maternal instincts paved way for erstwhile playfulness to resurface with renewed vigour. She had completely gotten over the fact that her little ones and reproductive organs had been taken away from her,without consent at about the same time. As a spectator,that phase of her added another dimension to me-resilience.
I learnt a very important life lesson from her at that point, that it was important to move on.That came in handy when I was going through a painful break-up later in my life.
Now I can proudly admit that I have derived a lot of inspiration from my pet cat.So are they just five sensed, think twice.
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