Dear Agony Akka,
We live in a very posh area and we are from a respectable family. But we are having no mental peace and no sleep for many nights because of a somewhat delicate matter concerning our new neighbours. They are a high society family: their house help told our house help that the man of the house is related to one Union Minister. We can see his SPG security. And he wears gem-rings on eight fingers. They have two imported cars and hold a satsang every week. But we are not bothered: we also have a posh car and our son works in a multinational bank. The problem is this: ever since they moved in, we are having a cat problem. How to say this? At night, their cats come to our balcony, our bedroom balcony, and make an infernal noise. It sounds like many infants shrieking in agony. There is so much noise that my husband and I are unable to sleep. I am getting migraine headache. So, we asked our house help to tell their house help to tell the wife of the relative of the Union Minister to keep their cats indoors. But they sent a reply back saying, sorry, cats have minds of their own, they cannot be controlled, we can’t do anything. How to deal with this situation?
— Moderately Enraged Woman
Dear MEW,
The burden of hailing from a respectable family is a heavy cross to bear. And clearly you bear it with great efficiency. But face it, the cats belonging to your well-connected neighbour are in season. In other words, their extra-territorial — and noisy — catty carnal congress is unavoidable. To do justice to your query, I scoured the Indian Penal Code (and the Feline Penile Code) to see which section of that spectacularly illiberal document may cover this peculiar contingency.
But it appears that the keen and incisive minds of those who frame our laws have overlooked this everyday situation. Mind you, these are the same luminaries who drafted the law that makes kite-flying a violation of the provisions of the Aircraft Act, 1934, punishable with up to two years in jail. So, it’s not like they haven’t been thorough, just not thorough enough.
Your neighbour’s hormonally excited cats, therefore, are cleverly exploiting a loophole in the law as they disport themselves on your balcony. In any case, given your neighbour’s day job, I am guessing you have no intention of proceeding against them in any legal sense. Discretion is arguably the better part of valour. Far easier to deal with amorous cats than with Black Cats.
What then are your options? First, convert complaint to boast. Clearly, these sensitive creatures have picked your balcony over your neighbour’s posh interiors and exteriors for their l’affaires.
You can discreetly drop this fact at your next bridge party.
Second, drown the noise. You are an unusual woman. Other, cavalier people might have objected to their eardrums being assaulted by shrill satsinging but you’re disturbed only by cat-calls. Why not host louder all-night satsangs that frighten the felines away?
Third, you could consider buying a dog. I am sure an expensive purebred with too much fur that makes it entirely unsuitable for this city would be right up your street. A disapproving upmarket dog would decrease the cats’ enthusiasm and increase your poshness quotient.
But frankly, MEW, I wouldn’t recommend any of the above. Your daily life, however stylish, sounds vacuous. The nocturnal cat visits seem to provide the only frisson of excitement. Embrace the experience: your life will be the richer for it.
— AA
agony.akka@gmail.com