Chapter 1

We hear some sort of scrambling noise outside, on the tin roof. Not the tantrum of raindrops, but a silent sort of humdrum, of paws and feet. 

The usual office chatter, minds gathered together, rapid thinking in process. Somewhere inside the kitchen, a tiny cat lies sprawled on the felt mat, his claw marks forming an intricate pattern on the purple. A young boy, thin, bright-eyed follows the little cat around, talking, cajoling, mind-bending, pampering. Amused eyes dart here and there, trying in vain to keep up with the lightning-quick swish of a brown tail, a jump here, a prance there and sudden slumber on top of the microwave. 

Tiny cat in trouble. Dogs, otherwise innocent-looking with big melting saucers for eyes, surround our little junglejoy. He stands his ground, hair standing on top of his head, the slim tail puffed up in aversion and maybe just a little bit of fear. Our boy arrives out of nowhere, we can almost see a cape flutter in the air. He runs right into the circle of menace and picks up our little fellow. We can see the dogs back away slowly. We observe some imperceptible shrugs. 

Bombay evening falls slowly, the sun disappearing behind the pale pink sea-sky. We see the silhouette of boy and cat against the gate, in silent companionship, the best kind there is, you know. 

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