Mermaid

Supple and slippery above and below,
Sliding wide-eyed under my hands
With a smile like daybreak,

You swim into my life only at night,
Bringing the shush of waves and shingle,
The smell of salt and distance,
The gull cries, the moan of seamarks,
And the broken sweep of light
From shrouded promontories.

You ride the storms and calms,
You plunge and surf,
Cruise the depths with sharks and stingrays,
And flicker through the feet of children
Paddling in the shallows,

To end up here in the dark between the sheets,
In the gap between dreaming and waking,
Coming ashore with your smile,
Your sea scent and thrashing tail,
Still slippery from the creation.

--- A. Alvarez

The Cat Catcher

A man carrying a long pole with a metal loop on the end told Bahadur that he was a cat catcher, and Bahadur let him inside the gate without question. He was after a stray cat which had been coming in and out. The cat jumped over a wall, the man also departed. Ramesh reprimanded Bahadur for letting all and sundry walk in the gate, and Bahadur erupted with a tirade “ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya,” which goes on until you interrupt him and repeat what you have just said. Then he goes muttering away – one of many crochety individualists who have worked in our house.

I was struck by the image of the cat catcher, roaming with a long stick, always on the lookout and trying to outsmart those swift creatures. (That loop of wire looked nasty, though.) The man was young, with a mop of curly hair, a ragged green plaid lungi. He left smiling, as though being a cat catcher was a fine thing.