About a cat

Nuna Dot was a gift. He literally fell from the skies.
One uncharacteristically hot april afternoon, my sister was awakened from her afternoon nap
by the heartbreaking mews of a kitten.
Thus began the search for the source of the unsettling cries.
Two buildings away, Nuna was lodged perilously on the ledge of an unkempt terrace.
When my sister finally got to him and picked him up, he opened his beautiful green eyes..and lo!hearts connected. My sister's friend (she's sort of a cat expert) pronounced him male.
So then, he became the fourth member of the family.

I came into the picture after his first month as the new family member
of our Delhi household, comprising of my sister, brother, me and a friend of my sister visiting us.
Dot was what we decided to called him but he would perk up when anyone said Nuna.
And those were the times when Korean flicks were the rage and so Nuna, he came to be called.
Our lives came to a standstill as he took center-stage.
Feeding him, cleaning up after his many poopy disasters (he never really got fully toilet trained) and of course, he was the most cutest creature I ever set eyes on, so he could do no wrong.
We watched him grow with great delight and faithfully chronicled his growth like adoring parents.
Well he was our baby alright.
We took turns to baby sit him and play with him.
To everyone's surprise, my nonchalant brother was charmed by his antics,
even when Nuna made his guitar case his favourite nap station.
And so Nuna grew on us.
He made Scratching posts out of every bare leg he saw. Demolished my glassware, flowers, socks and stockings.
His favourite past time was going through the trash and steealing food from the Fridge.
Was he smart? he could open the fridge. I dont know how.

Unfortunately, he was growing too big and out of control.
So one day, we took the sad decision of letting him go!
It was the hardest thing I had to ever do.
We spent many days debating what was the right thing to do.
Well. we had totally made a Naga out of him so he ate nothing but meat! and he was a real fussy eater.
The decision was made finally.
We took him out to Dilli Haat and the moment we let him out of the bag...whoosh....He disappeared!
We didnt even get a last glance.
All we had was now pictures!

Saddened and broken, and feeling bereaved, we headed back home!
Goodbye Nuna and Thank you for the delightful days you gave us!
We miss you!
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How I got my name.

I was born on June 16 1982 at 5:15 pm in my mother's house in the village. She was a teacher at our village Lower Primary Government School then. Mom and Dad both hail from Thüvopisü Village, in Phek district of Nagaland. Father was posted as a Teacher in another town, Dimapur and was on his way home for my birth. Mom had her eldest sister, Azu^ Küvethilü (my elder mom), my paternal aunt, Ana* Nokhune (who was the village's only nurse) and two young female cousins to attend to her. 

It was twilight and there was a power outage as usual. 
They lit up some kerosene lamps, the ones with wicks which burn out unless you turn them in when you blow them out. Mom's nervous cousins managed to drop the wick inside the lamps while refilling them and so I was born in the glow of the fireplace from the Kitchen.


My elder mom cut the cord and named me Vemütselü, meaning "goodness and wisdom" in our native Chokri Naga Language. 
Father arrived early next morning and found me sleeping in my mother's arms.
Dad and Mom renamed me Mütsevelü, "the wise and beautiful one" and that's the name on my birth certificate.


And so I was born. 
Daughter of my delighted parents.
The Teacher's daughter.
Kümüthapü's (Madam teacher) little girl.


Mütsevelü. Mercy Tetseo.
the wise/clever and beautiful one.


*Ana is the Chokri word for 'Aunt' while ^Azu means 'Mother'


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new year resolutions

My family had this tradition of making our new year resolutions during the week leading up to New Year's day.

Bringing in the new year with fireworks.

We would gather at home and then stay up late on New year's eve and spend an hour or so in prayer, sharing our resolutions, encouraging each other and making family plans for the New year.
There would be lots of tea and sticky rice cake to keep the party going.

We'd write our resolutions on a sheet of paper and keep it in the Family Bible.
Every Sunday evening, we would gather for family prayers and review our progress.

My parents believed that this was a good exercise in positive action because, the moment you assert an action in public, you would feel bound to keep at it. (Social Pressure Aha?)

So if you declare that you have a particular resolution for the new year.....for example, to spend less time on the phone chatting unnecessarily, your whole family had to support you and pitch in to help you keep your resolution.
Like when you are slipping up...they point it out or in Dad's case, yank the receiver out of your hands and slam it down with a final "Bye-Bye!".
(which was often.....two teenaged girls and one landline! :D )
I tell you it did get trying sometimes, but it helped us all a lot too.

For many years, I was the official reader of resolutions being the eldest.
And during the reviews, I somehow always made good progress and made an example of success.

I haven't been home for Christmas and New year for a long time and in the recent years, I even stopped making resolutions. And I haven't been much of an example lately.

But this year, I made my New Year resolutions and I haven't shared it with anyone.
Perhaps, at the end of the year, I will review my progress.
And hopefully I will have done really well for myself for once.
And maybe then, I will share it with my family just like old times,
and perhaps revive our family tradition.
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wake up call

I don’t sleep anymore

I don’t have anymore tears left to shed.

I got what I didn’t want and lost all I had.

The terrible irony.

I thought I had it figured out.

Well, you were always too smooth.

How come you didn’t set the alarm bells ringing?

I thought we had it made but now.

Looks like I was the bigger fool.

Or maybe I’ve gotta be thankful,

You didn’t let me make my biggest mistake.

Either way it hurts.

More than I thought ever possible.

They said “Love hurts”. Well now I know better.

Love doesn’t just hurt. It kills.

But I never heeded wise words and now I pay the price.

Some more tears and a load of heartaches later,

I’ll be holding out my heart to someone new.

And maybe I won’t  sleep again.

And maybe he will make me cry again.

But then, life is not worth living.

Without someone to share it with.

How come I didn’t see it coming?

Oh boy you got me blinded.

And now I pay with tears and heartache.

I gave you all of me.

No pride to hold me back.

Yes I gave you the power to hurt me.

And am I bruised and battered?

What a leap you took?

From sharing every little detail to freezing silence.

Just tell me where I went wrong.

We made plans to grow old together.

Silver hairs and golden silence it was to be.

Now all I have are the songs you gave me.

And they’re all such sad songs.

Did I miss my cue?

Or could it be you had it planned all along?

hmmmmm

Circa 2011.

I thought I had my life planned out but I was so wrong.

The glaring truth is.....

You can't plan life.

Time and time again, I come to this crossroad and I am the biggest fool of all because, I just don't seem to learn from my mistakes.

But today is another day and I have the chance, not to put things right,(that is never enough and never quite happens) but to do things differently and possibly redeem myself in my own eyes.

Here's to a Wiser me.

2011....The Year of Change.

Change.....for the better of course :)