I’m A Crime Cleanup Specialist

A crime cleanup specialist, also known as a forensic or biohazard cleaner, is a professional who cleans and decontaminates locations affected by violent crimes, accidents, or other traumatic events. [Source: The Internet]

For your information, I neither hold a degree in forensic science nor do corpses of human beings fascinate me. However, I’m a feline momma to the impish Uttam. That has endowed me with enough skills to dispose of dead (or alive) birds And all this, while suppressing the urge to throw the cat out of the window!

Take that, all ye wellness propagators!

It Began With A Dove

I caught my first feathered foe,

ensnared it by the unmanned window.

I toyed with it, played peekaboo.

Oh, it was the monsoon of ‘22.

[With due apologies to Bryan Adams]

We had just shifted to a gated community in Jamshedpur. The packers had left, leaving behind a quietude. But cat parents are built of a different mettle. While they may not be able to predict an earthquake, they can sense something amiss even with closed eyes. Mr. Hubby and I shoved aside our exhaustion and dashed to the ‘last seen’ room. Lo and behold! Our hero (or villain) held a dove in his mouth. The poor bird’s neck lay twisted in an ungainly manner. On that day, we debuted as a crime cleanup specialist.

Laash Ko Thikane Lagana Hai

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon. After polishing off a lunch of Gobindobhog rice, moong dal, and aloo bhujia, I stifled a yawn. There was no way I was going to take a nap. Since Mr. Hubby worked for an Indian company where weekends are a luxury, I decided to Netflix sans the chill. The options were many, but I was not prepared for the gore that is the norm nowadays.

Uttam came dashing into the living room.

I smiled. “Puchoo! Come here and sit with momma,” I drawled. [Like a Bong worth his ilish, our cat has a daak-naam to boot.]

Being the true-blue protégé of Bastet, the Egyptian Cat Goddess, Uttam gave me the royal ignore. Although a little hurt by his attitude, I leaned back against the sofa, watching his antics. He was playing with the toy mouse purchased from Amazon. It took a drop of blood and a barb of a feather for me to realise the horror. My cat had actually dragged a sparrow into the room! Erm! No!

The speed with which I got up and ran into the bedroom would have put Usain Bolt to shame.

Now, don’t get me wrong! I love birds. But only so long as I observe them from a distance. If they hover over me, I start doing the naagin dance. With trembling hands, I dialled H for Hubby.

His solution was simple. Wrap the sparrow in a newspaper and leave it on the terrace.

But there was a small glitch (in my matrix). I faint at the sight of the dead body of a lizard.

Should I wait until 7 PM when the disposer returns from the office? Cursing everybody from the Murthys to the Ambanis, I chanted the first four lines of  Hanuman Chalisa. Thanks to my pea-sized brain drawing a blank after that, I picked up the supplementary section of the newspaper. Alia Bhatt’s beautiful face made contact with the dead sparrow. Dissatisfied, I wrapped it with an extra layer, this time with Jawan for company.

I felt like a criminal’s accomplice when I took the body down to dispose of it in a bin.

Parrot Beaks / Swiss Army Knives

Our flat faces a children’s park. The trees that dot the area are homes to beautiful parrots. They make a beeline for my neighbour’s balcony to feast on Parle-G biscuits, grapes, and American sweetcorn. But they refuse to even allow themselves a transit on my window grills.

Well, you know whom to blame!

I was staring at my laptop screen. The Vlookup threw up an error for the nineteenth time. At that time, I would have gladly locked myself in a prison cell to escape the Excel one. But this is real life, where God hardly listens to your pleas. So I decided to do the next best thing. Give up! I went to the kitchen to brew myself a cup of tea. Three screeching noises later, I dropped the idea and sprinted towards the dining room.

An unfortunate parrot had lost its way and flown inside the room. The imp, otherwise immune to my cries or calls, jumped up high and caught the bird between his teeth.

Uttam dashed to the bedroom. Images of me washing the bloodied bedspreads swirled before me. I followed him. The cat escaped to the other room, leaving behind a trail of blood and green feathers. There was no use in calling Mr. Hubby to listen to his parroted (pun intended) advice.

Donning a pair of surgical gloves and covering my head with a helmet (please don’t ask me why), I grabbed Uttam by his tail. As the bird dropped to the ground, I dragged the screaming cat into the bedroom, propped him on the sofa, and ran out to close the door. All this happened within 3 seconds. Dear Olympic Committee! Are you listening? My quota of bravado ran out and I called the security. The stunned parrot was carried down. But not before the poor man got a demonstration of how sharp its beak can be.

Embarrassment writ large on my face, I offered to pay him the price for the tetanus shot, but he refused. I picked up a fresh Scotch-Brite and began to clean the bloodstains with a vengeance. Half an hour elapsed. Even Feluda with his mogojastro couldn’t have deduced that a crime had occurred just a few minutes ago.

And the travails of a hassled cat parent continue. Until the next victim comes home! Hasta Mañana!

PS – Can I get a job with CBI or R&W?

PSS – Is my search history a cause for concern? I’m not even a published author to claim immunity from Google. Blimey!

And here is UTTAM for you 🙂 🙂

By Narayani V Manapadam

“Narayani is an IT Professional lost in the dreary world of Excel. When time permits, she loves to get lost in the maze of Word(s). But nothing makes her happier than being a cat momma to her beloved Uttam.”

She can be contacted at fraunara@gmail.com.