In this short story, Mitra Samal shares a beautiful glimpse into the bond between a young girl and her aunt, capturing the love they share through random acts.
My earliest childhood memory is of my aunty holding me in her arms and showing me the bright full moon. Just then a pitch-black cat jumped from one roof to the other, right across the moon. I was shocked to death and started crying out loud. My aunty tried her best to cajole me, but I wouldn’t stop. I must have been about three years old. Now even in my thirties whenever I see the full moon it reminds me of the black cat and every time, I come across a black cat I only wish it was golden.
My Aunty didn’t carry a good reputation, the neighbours would whisper when she was around and called her weird, but my grandpa always defended her. He had told me that my aunty is gifted.
“What kind of gift, Grandpa? Does Aunty paint like me?” I asked one day.
“No, she doesn’t.”