“π°π πππ π ππβπ ππππ πππ π πππ, πππ ππππ πππ ππππ πππ ππ.β
My mom warned me. I didn’t pay attention.
Thirty seconds later, a brownish stray cat came in from the tree outside our roomβs balcony β and four-year-old me sat there terrified with my one-year-old brother, sleeping happily.
Ever since I was a toddler, our home has always had animals in it.
Growing up in a joint family meant constant chaos β cousins everywhere, doors always open, and a huge tree outside our balcony that acted like a grand highway for cats from the neighbor’s roof straight into our house.
They would stroll in like they owned the place, eat a bit, nap a bit, and leave when they felt like it.
Dogs, too, mostly strays who found a home in our hearts long before they found shelter in our house.
One memory has stayed with me vividly.
I was four. My brother was one. My mother had asked me to make sure the door stayed locked so no cats wandered in while she stepped away for two minutes. I forgot.
A cat suddenly leaped in from the window, landed right next to my baby brother, and let out the ππππ πππ ππππ.
Before I could cry, my mom rushed in β she was calm, gentle, completely unfazed. She picked up the cat, stroked it, smiled, and said, βπ°π ππππ ππππππ ππ ππ πππππ . π»πππβπ πππ.β
And somehow, even at four, that stayed with me.
Not every loud voice is a threat. Sometimes itβs simply someone asking to be understood. Itβs about pausing long enough to understand intention.
Today, every time my dogs bark at the door or a cat meows demanding attention, I remember that lesson: Listen before you judge. Decode before you defend. Respond with empathy, not panic.
Because in life, sometimes all someone needs is the quiet reassurance that they are heard.
PS: Hereβs another brown cat I met recently who reminded me of that very lesson – loud, dramatic, and simply asking to be understood. Don’t shut people outβ¦ learn when to ππππ and listen.
Shines & Shadows 