Feline Love in a Fatherland of Fortunes

The first time I met Huma was on a crowded train. It was the last day of my trip, and I had been fighting to find a seat for what felt like hours. I had gotten so used to standing that when I finally sat down, my legs were too stiff to bend. The aisle was packed with people as far as I could see, and there was no room to move around at all. The two seats next to me were occupied by an elderly couple who did not seem inclined to move.

There was a loud ringing sound, and the train suddenly slowed down. We kept going in reverse for a while, but then we stopped altogether. Then there was a loud boom, and it suddenly got much hotter inside the train. I figured those two were trying to pickpocket me or something, so I turned around and stared them down so they would know better than to try it again. But when I turned back around, the old couple was gone; instead, there was a young woman sitting next to me.

I thought she looked very familiar, but she wasn’t what you might call conventionally attractive, so it took me a long time before I could place her. Once I remembered where I had seen her before though - one of those sleazy tabloids that sell for a dollar in every corner shop - it didn’t take me long to recognize Huma Sharma as the “Huma Sharma: India’s biggest starlet” from her infamous sex tape scandal. She had been taping herself having sex with her boyfriend, some guy named Ashish Singhvi (a powerful businessman who would soon be arrested for being involved in human trafficking), when he walked in on her filming it instead of sleeping after he had been out having drinks with his buddies all night. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he demanded that she release the tape and make money off of it with him; for some reason though, she refused to do it his way, so he ended up leaking it himself onto every site imaginable.

I remember thinking that this must have been her very first trip outside of the country since she had been born; otherwise they would have deported her immediately after finding out about the whole scandal thing - how else do you think they would have even recognized her? She clearly had no idea what was going on either though; she just sat there looking puzzled and scared as everyone around us started yelling and panicking like crazy. A few minutes later, once we were back on track again and moving forward normally again though, she let out a sigh of relief and seemed to relax too. Then she looked over at me and gave me a smile before turning away again after noticing how embarrassed I seemed to be by our chance encounter. Goodness knows why though; you would think someone like me would be used to running into such famous people without warning like that or something!

A few hours later, when we finally arrived at our destination station in Chennai (the capital of Tamil Nadu), we both got off at the same time as well. She headed straight for one of those large black cabs waiting outside with “Uber” printed on their side windows instead of taking one of those rickshaws littering the streets of Chennai which are run by drivers who charge fares that really aren’t worth paying unless you live nowhere near your workplace (I always take Uber instead). It must have been fate - or maybe love - because it wasn’t until after I got out of the cab myself that I realized that we were heading in opposite directions; apparently she lived somewhat close by while my Airbnb apartment was located deep within Koyambedu Market, which is home to hundreds upon hundreds of shops selling everything from vegetables to electronics behind its gigantic white walls which look almost clean enough to eat off of! But then again…maybe not! The only thing more polluted than Koyambedu Market these days is probably Bangalore itself! How else do you think they ended up naming my hometown “the Silicon Valley of India”?

I saw Huma again a few days later when she came into my shop looking for some books about cats (she loves cats). My bookstore has some great books about cats in stock - including some rare ones from America! - so naturally we ended up talking for quite awhile about this book called “The Catcher in the Rye” which is supposed to be sold out everywhere ever since Hillary Clinton announced she is running for president back during Christmas last year (you would think people would want to read about other things besides politics during Christmas!). It isn’t really all that great though - at least not according to my sister who recently finished reading it herself! “It doesn’t even make any sense!” she told me afterwards (she is always right about things like that). “The main character keeps talking about how he needs independence but never leaves his house except when he goes fishing! Why doesn’t he just get a job or go live somewhere else where nobody can bother him if he thinks he needs independence so badly?! That makes no sense whatsoever! Plus…what kind of name is Holden Caulfield anyway? Who names their kid Holden Caulfield?!”

Anyway…that evening Huma came over for dinner at my place (I cooked Indian food using recipes from my mom). When we got there though she found out that most of my ingredients were American (no wonder Hillary Clinton decided to run for president!), but luckily I still had some frozen mango juice left over from what seemed like ages ago when my sister and best friend managed to buy some during their trip overseas together back in college which they brought back for me as a gift. We chatted over dinner about this beautiful little girl named Lilly Patel who passed away from heart failure before getting old enough to attend school or having any friends; while most people thought her parents were terrible people because they were too busy trying not be deported back overseas themselves instead of spending more time with their daughter after their immigration visas expired and they failed all their attempts at legal citizenship status here in America…I don’t think they were nearly as horrible as everyone made them out to be! After all…who hasn’t tried doing whatever they need do in order not get deported back overseas themselves sometimes? Everybody has done something bad at least once in their life! Don’t tell me you haven’t…because you know you have! *laughs*