The Company of Cats

Despite a reputation for being wily, mysterious and aloof, domestic felines have long woven themselves into our art, literature and language across the years

- B. N. Goswamy

 

A CAT WITH A STOLEN CRAYFISH 
Painted woodcut, Bengal, from a Kalighat workshop; circa. 1900; by an unknown artist

While this could be a genre image-both fish and cats abounding in Bengal-of a massive cat having gotten away with a crayfish, it could also be a satire on the doings of 'holy men'. Satires on men and manners were a prominent part of Kalighat work, and here the artist could be targeting a segment of Vaishnavas: the vertical U-shaped tilak mark on the forehead is a giveaway, for one thing, as is the predatory look in the eyes of the animal herself, of course!

Strictly speaking, I am not a cat lover. But, somehow, they have stayed in my awareness. When a stray one sneaked into our house once, for instance, and Apu, my son, took to her, cold and shivering as she was when she came in. He fed her, gave her a name—Katja it was, if I remember aright—and, after returning from school, he would talk to her first, ahead of anyone else at home. It was a few years before we shifted home and she decided against moving. As simple as that.

Then, years later, I had a faintly bristly encounter with a whole pride of cats at the home of a dear friend in Zurich: Ursula Dohrn. She loved cats, had many of them, and they had all become members of her family. Whenever I went to visit her, they were there, naturally and everywhere. For me it was not easy and, almost complainingly, I once told Ursula during a visit how hard it was to find a quiet moment with her without the cats participating in the conversation. Quickly, Ursula shot back. ‘You are an art historian, Brijinder, are you not? Then, you should love cats: all art historians do.’