The House of Strange Stories

Eyes of the Cat by Ruskin Bond

         Her eyes seemed flecked with gold when the sun was on them. And as the sun set over the mountains, drawing a deep red wound across the sky, there was more than gold in Kiran's eyes. There was anger; for she had been cut to the quick by some remarks her teacher had made -- the culmination of weeks of insults and taunts. 

Kiran was poorer than most of the girls in her class and could not afford the tuitions that had become almost obligatory if one was to pass and be promoted. "You'll have to spend another year in the ninth," said Madam. "And if you don't like that, you can find another school -- a school where it won't matter if you blouse is torn and your tunic is old and your shoes are falling apart." Madam had shown her large teeth in what was supposed to be a good-natured smile, and all the girls had tittered dutifully. Sycophancy had become part of the curriculum in Madam's private academy for girls. 

On the way home in the agthering gloom, Kiran's two companions commiserated with her. 

"She's a mean old thing," said Aarti. "She doesn't care for anyone but herself."

"Her laugh reminds me of a donkey braying," said Sunita, who was more forthright.

But Kiran wasn't really listening. Her eyes were fixed on some point in the far distance, where the pines stood in silhoutte against a night sky that was growing brighter every moment. The moon was rising, a full moon, a moon that meant something very special to Kiran, that made her blood tingle and her skin prickle and her hair glow and send out sparks. Her steps seemed to grow lighter, her limbs were more sinewy as she moved gracefully, softly over the mountain path. 

Abruptly, she left her companions at a fork in the road. 

"I am taking the shortcut through the forest," she said.

Her friends were used to her sudden whims. They knew she was not afraid of being alone in the dark. But Kiran's moods made them feel a little nervous, and now, holding hands, they hurried home along the open road. 

The shortcut took Kiran through the dark oak forest. The crooked, tormented branches of the oaks threw twisted shadows across the path. A jackal howled at the moon; a nightjar called from urgency, and her breaths became short, sharp gasps. Bright moonlight bathed the hillside when she reached her home on the outskirts of the village.

Refusing her dinner, she went straight to her small room and flung the window open. Moonbeams crept over the window-sill and over her arms which were already covered with golden hair. Her strong nails had shredded the rotten wood of the window-sill.

Tail swishing and ears pricked, the tawny leopard came swiftly out of the window, crossed the open field behind the house, and melted into the shadows.

A little later it padded silently through the forest.

Although the moon shone brightly on the tin-roofed town, the leopard knew where the shadows were the deepest and merged beautifully with them. An occasional intake of breath, which resulted in a short rasping cough was the only sound it made.

Madam was returning from dinner at a ladies' club, called the Kitten Club as a sort of foil to the husbands' club affiliations. There were still a few people in the street, and while no one could help noticing Madam, who had the contours of a steam-roller, none saw or heard the predator who had slipped down a side alley, waiting with all the patience of an obedient schoolgirl.

When Madam saw the leopard on her steps, she dropped her handbag and opened her mouth to scream; but her voice would not materialize. Nor would her tongue ever be used again, either to savour chicken biryani or to pour scorn upon her pupils, for the leopard had sprung at her throat, btoken her neck, and dragged her into the bushes.

In the morning, when Aarti and Sunita set out for school, the stopped as usual at Kiran's cottage and called out to her. 

Kiran was sitting in the sun, combing her long black hair.

"Aren't you coming to school today, Kiran?" asked the girls.

"No, I won't bother to go today," said Kiran. She felt lazy, but pleased with herself, like a contented leopard.

"Madam won't be pleased," said Aarti. "Shall we tell her you're sick?"

"It won't be necessary," said Kiran, and gave them one of her mysterious smiles. "I'm sure it'a going to be a holiday."

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A/N - Chicken biryani is an Indian dish.