The greatest risk is not taking one

The phone rang. Another unknown number, but M knew who that would be. “Your food has arrived, please open door,” the service representative said. 

The waimai was all drenched. “Nihao,” he said, handing him a paper bag that was stapled to keep the food packets inside from falling off.

“Nihao.”

This was the first time he had ordered from Hulu, so they sent him a complimentary bottle of wine and two cookies along with the pasta he had ordered. He swallowed a cookie right away. It was nice and delicious until the cookie crumbled. As it took a tumble in the insides of his mouth, he could feel a strip of paper getting stuck to his upper palate before, using his finger, he pulled it out, half meaning to call Hulu and complain until something written on the paper caught his eye. “The greatest risk is not taking one.”

So this was what the representative from Hulu had meant when he called and made pleasant conversation and told him they would be sending two fortune cookies and a surprise gift along with the food.

He was careful with the second cookie, cracking it open and taking out the paper first. He then opened the parchment to read what fortune held in store now.

“18511588XXX”. 

That looked like a telephone number. He scanned the rest of the paper bag for clues but found none. Could this be a number he had to call to claim some gift? Brands these days were always coming up with such schemes to popularize products. 

Hesitating at first, he called the number. The phone rang incessantly but remained unanswered. Maybe someone printed a number by mistake, instead of some interesting phrase. He forgot all about it as he attacked the Spaghetti Bolognese. 

But once he had had his food he got an idea. Maybe if he saved the number on his phone he could check if the user was there on WeChat. Maybe it would be someone who comes up with phrases to lock inside nice cookies. He had nothing to lose. So he went to the dialed numbers on his phone and saved the last dialed number as, what should he call it, he wondered. FC, he thought, for fortune cookie. And then as an afterthought he added an asterisk after each letter. F*C*.

He then opened the WeChat app and thumbed his way to first Contacts and then New Friends, and there it was on top of Mobile Contacts, the number. But it had no profile picture.

He hesitated for a while before sending the enigma a friend’s request. The request was accepted right away. 

“Hello M!”

 

“Hello! How do you know my name? Who are you??”

 

“Mmm. You sure like to know, innit? Check out my profile”

 

And suddenly the profile which had no photograph until then sprang to life. It was M’s very own photograph. 

“WHO IS THIS?” he typed in all caps.

“And how did you get my photograph? I’ll report you to the police. This is illegal. Did you hack my phone? 

 

“Cool down M! There is no reason to get hyper. I look like you because I am your fortune teller, one you discovered on cracking a fortune cookie. Now do as I tell you if you want to know what your future holds. As you must have figured out by now, the two of us have a cosmic connection about which I shall tell you more when we meet. But today is the only day when I can meet you. I will go back to my deep sleep tomorrow and won’t be bothered about people’s fortunes until the next time there is a lunar eclipse in the month of November. As you know November is a very fortunate month for you. If you don’t know why I will tell you when we meet. For that, you should cycle your way to the Drum Tower today at exactly 4pm. Wear your scarf, the white and black one, the one you have stowed away in your almirah. I know all about it. Once you are at the Drum Tower just ping me once and wait till I come and meet you. The road ahead of you is very crucial and only I can tell you what you should and what you should not do. Are you ready to hear what your future holds?”

Like M had a choice. 

“Yes, yes, please guide me,” he wrote back, keying in the words frantically, while also shuddering at the thought of meeting a stranger who seemed to know all about him and even had his profile photograph. 

“It’s 3 pm already. You seem drowsy after your meal. You must wake up now and start getting ready if you are to be on time. You won’t get to meet me if you are a minute late. Get up and get ready, fast.”

 

M stood up hurriedly. He looked for the time but was disturbed by loud thumping on the door. He wondered if he should open it. Walking to the door and looking at the peephole he could make out there was some commotion there. Looking into it he was confronted by an eye looking back at him. 

“M, it’s me Kemal, open the door.”

That was his neighbor. 

“You alright?”

“Yes!”

“What took you so long to open the door? I’ve been here for some time now. Did you order some food from Hulu? They left it at my door. I don’t blame them. Look at this label here. The 403 looks like 408. It’s been raining cats and dogs and I was almost struck by lightning as I sauntered to check with the lady at 408 in the adjoining building. She denied she had ordered it and looked at the label carefully to point out the anomaly. I really shouldn’t have bothered stepping out in this storm, but then as they say, the greatest risk is not taking one.”

A house for Billoo

 Dust and sand abound, all the time here. And if anything on four wheels screeches to a halt, there is no saying what more it could kick up, before some of it settles down gradually, on the pavement in front, before these creatures on two feet kick them up again; fine particles up in the air again before settling, finally, on my, whiskers.

The particles are not a problem though. It’s the two-legged ones I must keep an eye, or both eyes, on. Some seem to deliberately step on my tail, which cannot for a moment rest easy. Even if I close my eyes, the tail needs to wander, to the left, to the right, kicking up dust, rising and flickering like a flame, to warn those on two feet against stepping on it.

The menace that the two-legged ones can be can never be overestimated. From throwing water, hot or cold, at me, to hitting me with sticks, tying crackers to my tail and lighting them up, they have done it all in the little time I have spent on this pavement, for as long as I can remember. There are stupid dogs that bark at me for no reason at all, but I can always shut them up with a defiant showing of my paw, all claws extended. There are squirrels and lizards that brush against me sometimes, waking me up from slumber, but I bear them no grudges, for it is never wise to doze off with so many two-legged ones on the move in the vicinity.

Why, it was only yesterday that I was having a siesta after lunching on a rat when a breeze, the kind that blows just before it rains, made me dream I was flying. I opened my eyes to see I was a few feet above the ground. Just as I was beginning to enjoy the feeling, it hit me, that I was being held by a two-legged one, while his little one egged him on. “Yes Papa, let’s take it home,” the little menace seemed to be saying.

I would have bit his hand, but desisted, as I was able to wriggle out and run away just in time. They came after me, but then it began pouring and they stopped and turned around, running in the opposite direction now, to where they possibly lived, taking out that thing they hold to shield themselves from the rain, the only thing that’s good about them.

I had run quite some distance away. While trudging back, I spied another four-legged sister, behind an iron-grilled gate, keeping an eye on the road.

“Hello there!”

“Hello, hello!”

“Are you a hostage of the two-legged ones?”

“Who? Me, a hostage?” it asked before laughing so hysterically it nearly lost its balance and fell down. “I am a pet here, born with a silver spoon. The two-legged ones worship me here. You can take a bow. This is my shrine,” it said, before laughing again. It controlled itself just when I was beginning to lose my cool.

“What tricks did you play on them to get them to worship you?”

“Tricks? What tricks? It has always been like this. They worship my mom too. She has just been taken to the vet for losing her balance lately. They doted on my siblings too. They live across this wall with our neighbors and will be coming down to play anytime now.”

It struck me right then that the glass is half empty or half full for us two-legged ones depending on which side of that gate we live on.

I suddenly wanted to cross over to the other side, just to see what it’s really like. At least I may not have to wait till I sniff a rat before hunting it down or look for lizards and roaches.

 

So this day I lay in wait. Maybe if the two-legged one and the little one wished, I would go with them and see how it goes. I was sure I could flee from them should they harass me.

Just then I saw a van come to a halt on the road in front of me. The little one got off and came near me. I got up, as if to flee, but he made no move to pick me up. He just looked at me once and then here and there. Without the bigger two-legged one close by, it dared not even touch me. Sizing him up I thought that, surely, I could get the better of this one should he act smart. As the little one waited for the other two-legged one, I got up, bent forward and stretched myself a bit and then parked myself a little in front of the little one. I assumed I was able to communicate to him that I was willing to take the risk and go with them. But seeing me move, the little one moved away from there, until seeing the bigger one arrive in the distance, he ran towards him. The bigger one never saw me. They soon began leaving.

This was my chance. I had to go after them. Walking briskly I nearly made it to where they were, but just then they crossed the street. I’d have followed too, but for a loud horn that made me jump on my tracks. It was one of those huge things on four wheels carrying any number of two-legged ones packed to capacity. One of them hanging out of the door looked at me menacingly.

By the time I crossed the road, the two two-legged ones had turned the corner.

I ran faster than I had run away from them the day before and was able to see them further ahead after a while.

I was huffing and puffing by the time I caught up with them, but just then I saw them enter a building. Fortunately the gap under the gate was big enough for me to enter. I could hear their voices on the staircase. But by the time I reached their floor, they had gone inside. I decided to park myself there. From under the door I could still hear the little one talk to the others inside. There seemed to be three people inside.

Sometime later someone came and stood by the door, indifferent to my existence. He pressed something on the wall, sounding a musical note inside. The door opened soon after. It was the little one. He collected some food the new two-legged one had got and was about to close the door again when his eyes fell on me. He screamed. “Papaaa! Come see. Mummyy! Come see.”

Soon all the inhabitants of the house came out to look at me, as if I had stolen something. I stood up, unsure whether to stay there or flee.

“It’s the cat. She is back. She wants to stay with us. Let us take her inside,” the little one said, moving forward and bending to try and touch me.

“Stay away,” the other member of the family, the one I had not seen before, said aloud. “Stay away from that cat. It might be infectious.”

Infectious? Me? I thought to myself. Have they even noticed how many hours we spend licking our bodies to rid ourselves of dirt?

“You’d promised me a pet,” the little one was almost crying now. “I want this cat. Come in Billoo, come in.”

The taller one just stood, like frozen. He made no effort to either invite me in or shoo me away.

“We will get another pet. From a pet shop I have seen. This one’s a stray cat. Your mom is right. It might be diseased too. Let it go,” he finally mustered. Saying that, he dragged the little one inside and shut the door. I stood there for a while, listening to their voices from inside.

I could sense my anger rising. Just a day ago they wanted to just take me away against my wish. And now that I myself wished to enter their house, they show me the door! The audacity. How could they? Just how? I could feel my claws raring to draw blood.

Just then someone from the neighboring house opened the door and, on seeing me, came after me. He had no inkling the anger that had been building within me till then. He came over and was about to kick me when I pounced on his feet and bit his heel so hard, blood came gushing out. He screamed in agony, triggering frantic movements in every house in the building. I took the opportunity to flee the building. I heard the little one open the door. “I told you, it was not a good cat,” someone said, but I had left the building and moved out of that space.