Adolf The Cat Poem by PRATHAP KAMATH

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn’t just one of your holiday games;
T. S. Eliot. “THE NAMING OF CATS”.

Adolf the cat was a black prince.
Harbinger of sleep and the stars
He and the night were one.
Though he reasoned before he killed
And was impatient only politely like a democrat
Adolf the cat had a tyrant’s face
With gunships afloat in his eyes.
Brokering power with humans
He held the cat world in contempt
For the crown it set on him.
His name echoed death in millions
For those who knew history.
Despite being an Indian cat
Living in a multicaste neighbourhood
He was named purposely so
To remind the people about
The allegory in his mouse-hunts
Which killed not just for prey.
His looks became his name
What with the perpetual scowl
He wore by second nature!
But what Adolf did eventually
Belied all we made of him
And the name we fenced him in.
Leaving behind his princedom one night
He became as traceless as spirit.
A churning ennui swept the land
Where men and mice equally missed
The wonted presence of silent terror.
Much time after, he was found
Among a pack of mendicant monks
Treading their way to the Himalayas.
Asoka the cat-monk was friend to mice.