For the love of Superstitions

I was hurrying down the street this evening for an urgent work, when this happened. It was about dark, yet, not quite. My above average pace suddenly got a jolt before coming to a halt. Wonder why? About 100 yards from me stood a fat black cat, glaring at me straight in the eye.

I tried to look away from it, unconsciously gulped once, looked around to ensure nobody was witnessing my threatened existence; or was it more an eager look to hope to find somebody around.. God knows! And there I stood still, refusing to dodge a bit. Right at this point, memories of how my aunt was hospitalized years back in Kolkata, at the sight of a black cat, in broad daylight, seized my mind. What on earth happened to my urgency? Why couldn’t I just walk away instead of looking away? Wasn’t this willing suspension of all rationalism on earth?

Whatever it may have been, it was anything but expected. I really don’t know how long the cat looked me in the eye before it finally decided to look away.. then it moved a bit, and yet again gave a stark look at me. At this point, I regained back some sense and decided to reach to the other side of the street. That way, I would not only maintain a safe distance; but also reach my destination without wasting more time.

So, the brave heart that I am, I started to cross the street keeping a vigil that the cat stayed where it was. And when I lost sight of the thing, in the almost dark evening, I resumed my pace only to stumble and fall with an abrupt shriek of fright on Miss Black beauty herself. Call it coincidence, or the love of superstition, we both decided to cross the street at the same time (who knows even she might have wanted to avoid me) While Miss Black beauty stealthily hid somewhere in the vicinity; I remained horizontal on the street. Luckily a young lady was passing around the same time; she helped me gather myself and asked me if everything was alright.

My fear that had reached new height of paranoia by now disabled me from uttering a word. I could only barely nod. The sight of the burning green eyes in the half-dark half-light lonely environment cast an overbearing spell on me and I quickly walked away from her, as if nothing had happened, without even a word of thanks. Well, not that I’m this discourteous by nature, but fear mingled with irrational behavior perhaps manifests in such a way.

Finally, when I reached the brightly lit street, I realized that the strap of my sandal was torn. I had little choice but to put on hold my ‘urgent work’ and limped back home in a pair of torn slippers. Now I know why they say when a cat crosses the path, the journey remains unaccomplished.

As much as I hate to admit that I was indeed very scared this evening, it has a lot to do with those horror stories heard in the childhood that remains ingrained in the brain. Admittedly, education, awareness and the power of reasoning didn’t come handy to save myself such ignominy on a less known street of the United States.