The Pink Panther

Mira was bored. The train journey had been fun, with the discovery of an equally energetic seven year old in the next compartment. Together they had got up an impressive level of noise, drawing exasperated looks from even the mildest adults around. The ten hour free for all rampage had ended with prim goodbyes executed under motherly pressure, the formality instantly transforming them from gleeful conspirators to shy strangers again..Then there had been the long taxi drive from the railway station. That had been fun, too. She was allowed to sit up front on her fathers lap and gaze out, leading to the declaration that Bombay had many more lights than Bangalore at night.Though on that she had to unwillingly agree with amma, who pointed out that she was never up at this time when home to make the comparison.

They were in Bombay for a relative's wedding. The exact nature of the relation was hard to describe in one word. 'A complicated cousin' is what Mira had heard her mother say to a guest once, and had casually repeated it in her best adult voice, drawing much laughter and fawning. Half a day was spent in exuberant marching up and down the stairs declaring 'Namrata is my complicated cousin' in the loudest voice she could muster, but now the charm had worn off. Besides nobody was paying attention to her, at best vaguely patting her when they brushed past her in their scurryings.Once she d wandered into Namrata's room, definitely the most crowded, and someone had dragged her in asking which colour nail polish she'd like. Nail polish!! Her! Her outrage had been mistaken for shyness leading to many 'so cute's', until a violent wriggle had thankfully set her free. Mira no longer wanted to be a boy, as she had desperately wanted to a year ago, but nail polish was still too blatantly feminine to be acceptable.

Forced on by boredom to more wanderings around the house, Mira'd seen a room that seemed to be always locked. Well nourished on a diet of enid blytons, her first and excited thought had been that that must be the secret treasure room. Before her imagination could be more fired, however, someone had unlocked it in broad daylight, exposing a dusty room with piled vessels, books, a large limp stuffed pink panther and a walking stick. A pink panther!! For Mira, it was enchantment at first sight. She hadnt even known they made pink panther dolls !! If you could call something her own size a doll, that is. She looked at it with more respect, albeit from a wary distance. A slight movement displaced something in the cluttered room, causing the pink panther's hand to fall on her own, almost like a salute. And Mira's whole self was transformed into a desperate desire to own the pink panther. Years of life minus the pink panther stretched achingly before her, and she refused to admit the thought. Poor thing, he looked more of a grey panther right now, with all the dust settled on him. She put him back gently and tiptoed out of the room to look for Authority. Namrata's mother seemed a good option. She found her just putting the phone down. 'Auntywho'sispinkpanther'? came out in one eager breath. 'Go Play with someone else ma..' murmured aunty vaguely, patting her and walking away. Frustrated, Mira looked around. Nobody looked like they would care about poor pink panther, she doubted anyone d even notice if he disappeared. Heart beating fast, she walked right back to the room, picked him up and marched out. 'hey'! came a voice, 'Where did you find that doll'?. It was Namrata. 'Put it back, its my old toy..You can play with it in that room if you like'. Mira was suddenly transformed from a daring kidnapper to a 7 year old facing adult unreasonableness. She hugged the pink panther tighter as her eyes clouded over. 'Can I keep him in my room for 2 days? till the wedding'?
Namrata's attention was already distracted toward a beeping phone. With a hurried 'Ok be careful' she'd disappeared down the stairs. And Mira had walked on jubilantly, the tears having magically vanished, and started the marathon task of restoring pink panther to his earlier glory with a cloth and some ribbons..three days later Namrata's mother had let her take away the pink panther. 'Namrata was v attached to it as a child, its been gathering dust for years now,take it, no need to tell her' she'd said, smiling conspiratorially. Knowing her cousin's rather abrupt mood changes, Mira had kept him carefully away from her eyes until the wedding. Which wasnt hard anyway, considering pink panther was clearly not on her priority list right then.

Amazingly, pink panther had been well cared for not just for a few years but for all of twenty years after his usurpment. There was something about having a large soft benign panther in the room..he d been friend,confidante, pillow and punching bag all in one. Mira ruffled his tuft of dark brown hair affectionately, remembering the overwhelming pleasure of wanting something desperately and then, fairytale like, getting it.'Mira'!! came a voice from outside. Mira woke from her reverie and jumped up. An elaborately dressed girl stood at the door.'Hi heroine, are you trying to be fashionably late at your own wedding'?? asked the dolled up figure. 'You look like the bride yourself' said Mira admiringly, reaching for a plate in one hand and pink panther in the other. Before the other girl could voice her horror, 'Hold him' said Mira, 'I want him at the ceremony. And if anyone objects, tell them he's my goodluck charm'. The vision recovered her voice 'You're mad!!'..then relenting..'ok, i'll put him in the front row where you can see'..'but if Sheelu aunty asks..'..the voices faded away. Pink panther sat philosophically, smothered by Estee Lauder wafting towards him from one side and a chunky necklace poking him from the other. He seemed at peace with the world..