This is a hospital. Why am I in a hospital? Things look familiar, of course. Once I lived with a doctor very closely. He even ran away with my name, and now these fools repeatedly ask me for my name as if I have stolen it. The police are looking for it, no doubt; but what for did the fellows lock me up instead. And what is a cat doing here! They must have taken away my body too, or they have foisted someone else's body on to me.
Thimmy was sitting in my bed staring at me. I stared back into his eyes. His pupils grew larger and larger: I looked deeper and deeper.
Limpid, blue skies above-emerald green forest below. In front of a cave, overlooking a shimmering lake in the valley below, sat a man, must be a holy man of some order. One only saw his eyes-the rest of him, his loin cloth, crossed legs, delicate hands, and even the cave and the forest were vague back-ground for his eyes. He was smiling; it was his eyes that smiled.
In front of him was another person-haggard, unshaven, unkempt, sitting half propped up against a boulder. It was "I". There were three labels on his shirt Krishna, Mohan and Manohar. The names, however, never remained stationary or steady. Sometimes Krishna would stand out clearly while the rest faded; at another time two brightened at one and the same time; sometimes all three faded out.
"I" was talking to the holy man, "We are sorry to disturb you, sir, in this unexpected manner. One is bad enough, but three of us is too much, we know, or do we! You see, we want to sing and dance; we want to eat and not sing; we want to eat food without germs; we want to talk to all things; we want to keep away from things that bite; and we want to cease to be at all, and not care to sing or dance or eat or fear or fly; and we don't know which one of us wants which, or even who is who, and when, and for how long." As "I" talked, the labels kept bouncing and changing.
The holy man listened patiently, looking steadily at "I". "Only three!" he said, as if surprised. "All of you and more of you are welcome, " he added and lapsed into silence.
Quite suddenly Thimmy appeared by the side of the holy man. He was standing there with a show of great humility and courtesy. He bowed three times, touched the sage's feet, all this with many winks, grimaces and grins, and purrs. The sage gently stroked him, and bade him sit down, and speak if he must, since he was obviously bursting to say something.
"Beg to report, Master," Thimmy, pointing to me, "this exhibit, you asked me to look after is this over here. All is well, Master, and as you desired. This can see, hear, feel remember, sometimes laugh-no think, no talk, not much do. Forgive me, however, for having allowed it to write when it may, since that was not specifically prohibited. Moreover, this remembers nothing that it does not write, down there. It is in the hands of a number of magicians in white coats. They are powerful, Master, for they quickly discovered that cats have something to do with it. They are planning many tortures I heard mention of tubes, shocks, fits, cuts and so on. However, I shall keep an eye."
"But, why did it get into the hands of magicians, " asked the sage.
" Master, there is nothing you do not know. However, I understand that there, a thing like this must have a name and know it and write it. It must also continuously talk and eat. There are other things, too,-if a body does not know its name, and does not talk or eat, it becomes dangerous, and is straightaway given over to the magicians. I also learnt from the magicians there that lying still and laughing without cause makes it a definitely dangerous cat. What is a cause, Master?" Thimmy wanted to know.
"Thimmy, you are already getting infected. You talk too much and you have begun asking questions. I see that you must be sent on leave after this job is over." said the sage.
"But, mercy for this once, Master, because these magicians say they are going to find the cause and do something with it. I know a lot about magicians and, even so, I do not see how I can protect, if I do not know what they intend to do," begged Thimmy on bended knees, "and I do so want to help. I have grown to like this thing, here."
"Thimmy, you are in grave danger. First, you talk and talk; next, you ask questions; then you have begun wanting and liking. Talking, thinking, questioning and wanting-you are no longer pure see, pure hear, pure feel and pure do," rebuked the sage. "Thimmy, you were asked to look after it, now as it is: Nothing was said of magicians, and their intentions or inventions. With the magicians it is always not now, not this. That is a cause, Thimmy, the thing that comes in the head of these magicians after something has happened. Leave the magicians to their upside down ways. Let me see, now, read out your instructions, Thimmy; at least now read them out."
Thimmy produced a sheet of paper from one of the numerous pockets that seemed to sprout up wherever he put his hand, put on a pair of glasses, squinted at the paper and began to read:
"Instructions to Thimmy-that is me. Part I. Principles of operation for special grade agents-section, rescue, recovery and rehabilitation:
Note: Talk is part of do.
Pure do possible only when 1 to 4 implemented.
4 and 5 not possible if 1,2,3 not implemented. Shall I go on to Part II, Master."
"That will do. Now look at me!" ordered the Sage.
And as he looked at Thimmy things happened. I too stared at Thimmy. Now Thimmy stood frozen. One of his ears was a telephone, and the other a microphone. One eye was a telescope and the other a microscope. Numerous telegraph poles were sticking out of his head sending out and receiving flashes of lightnings. Inside his head, I could see, was giant machinery chugging, whirring, sparking and pumping out words, wires, traps, screws, adjectives, microbes and monkeys-especially monkeys. These issued forth in millions, pulling everything they saw to pieces, taking of a bite from this or that and spitting out-regiments of them screaming 'not this, not this!' They rushed out spreading themselves all over the world, tearing up, breaking up, some tearing up roots, others cutting open frogs and dogs and men, yet others digging deep into earth causing jagged holes. Always and ever, their war cry was 'Not this! Not this!' as they filled the earth and heavens with their marauding search for something they never seemed to find.
Soon it was getting worse. Everyone and everything seemed to get involved with the monkeys: some running away from them, some helping them, some helping and imitating them, some fighting them. The earth and skies were filled with dust, din, and smoke and blood and filth.
I saw one monkey bite something and spit out a book. Soon I saw hundreds of books and papers flooding over the chaos like froth on a deluge, as many monkeys became similarly engaged. Many more monkeys engaged themselves in biting and tearing up the books already there, and spitting out more and more books, and as the flood increased little else could be seen. The apes were not only tearing up other things but also each other-bite, taste, spit and scream in rage. 'Not this! Not this!'
Looking for causes-said a voice.
I saw the holy man, sitting cross-legged, still as a statue, with half-closed eyes. I saw that a pale blue stream of light from his forehead illumined the rigid outline of Thimmy. The holy man opened his eyes, and Thimmy shook himself, relaxed and looked his usual Thimmy-self. He promptly took out a rosary from one of his ready pockets and began running it through his fingers furiously.
The sage, then, looked at Thimmy and said, "Thimmy, you look fine. Now, look at this other thing, here."
Thimmy looked and I saw-it was 'I' leaning against the boulder. 'I' appeared to be sitting there muttering to himself; and more and more labels were sprouting up-flashing and fading-labels of all colours and shapes. 'I' was looking like a sequined python under neon lights. Krishna, Mohan and Manohar were there, but my eyes also caught labels like leg, dog, earthworm, stomach, pig, fear, love, jackdaw, envy, mule, ape, danger, snake, danger and so on-all endlessly flashing and fading and fusing and weaving themselves into weird patterns and designs, and in turn labels springing up on the designs.
"You see," the holy man continued. "for some months, now, I have noticed some pieces with labels floating into this area. Then, more and more were coming, and more frequently. I saw that these pieces were not from different packages, but from some one package. Only recently, quite a sizable one arrived, and I felt that the whole package was here. But the wrapping was missing. Even now you can see that the labels are popping up and may fly off any minute.
"It was clearly a very loose wrapper, Thimmy. You know that with this sort of baggage, the wrapper must grow apace with the contents. The wrapper must grow stronger and tougher as the baggage grows and more stuff comes in. But you know that millions of packs come with poor wrapping-too much production, millions of them are beyond repair. Either they spill all over or fall to pieces, and become grist for fresh manufacture.
"Each package is sent with a wrapping agent put in. If you have to have a package that is to grow, you can't send it down ready wrapped:can you? So the wrapping agent is set inside. It goes on secreting and securing and toughening as the contents change. But, as you can see, in millions of cases, the wrapping agent is still poor stuff and spills the beans. Each agent who fails with a pack has to wait till he finds another one; it goes on like that, till he becomes better and better able to hold together. You can also see that these packages hold not just beans, but jumping jelly-beans. So the wrapper may get loose, or too small, or get punctured from outside but also broken through from within. So, the wrapping agent has not only to wrap, but also arrange the inner contents, and proper entry points to the things that come in. Otherwise the agent may well get smothered.
"Now, you see, the wrapping agent is within and secret; the wrapper is only what you see; and that the wrapping agent has to gain and grow from experience to experience at this job. A few very experienced agents remain as rescue and repair operators for some suitable but stumbling agents that come to us. That is the help you are giving me, Thimmy. You see, when I had the bundle here, I found the wrapping agent missing and fabric of wrapping also, and I hoped you might keep an eye on that. I see you have done that." The sage smiled benevolently at Thimmy.
"Sounds like sardine tins with a bit of salt and sauce in them." remarked Thimmy.
"I see you have not forgotten your work at the fish canning factory, Thimmy. Yes, you have something to say?" said the sage, seeing that Thimmy was still muttering to himself.
"Only that this business of wrapper and wrapping and beans smells of groceries, brown paper and butter smudges. This bird here can only be got at by words like homeostat, integrator, mediator, pace-maker, feed-back, fed-up and square roots and so on. That is the stuff, I say. You can see this one here beginning to giggle." said Thimmy.
"Thank you, Thimmy, I forgot you are a very educated cat. I forget your close connections with the magicians below, and the numerous searches and researches they made inside you and on you, looking for causes. You could have become a magician yourself if they let you into their trade, and if we did not need you," said the holy man.
"Just one more point, Master," implored Thimmy, "why send a cat agent to rescue a man agent, why not send me to a cat?"
"As for being a cat and rescuing a man-agent it should not surprise you, Thimmy. Down there you have taught them so much about this business of 'Not this! Not this' we thought you would be the fit one to tell them, 'This and This.' Yes, you have a lot more to do. You are a good one, Thimmy, the best agent. No one had their wrappings broken up as many times in as many years as you have, and yet remained such a beautiful Thimmy, full of such fun and humour against so much cruelty. It is that which gives such a stretch to your wrap-look at the number of times they have torn you and look at you, not a scratch!" said the sage.
"Thank you, Master," said Thimmy, "only, I would not say stretch; elasticity, plasticity, flexibility,l/b ratio, perhaps."
"Truly you have become an adept at the magician's language. You may have need to use it. Now you may go on with your good work," said the holy man.
"And this bundle of contents, here," said Thimmy pointing to the writhing 'I', "is it to remain here or shall I bung it into the wrapper?"
"You surprise me, Thimmy," said the sage, "your ignorance! You don't bung anything into anything. They themselves attend to it. The agent is there and it is his job. All we do is to keep a loving eye on what comes to us. Of course, I said repair; but the method is simply to love and take care of what comes to you. And when you love and care for, your wrap automatically covers what you love and care for, and healing happens. You see, Thimmy, you and I have wrapping agents that can take in and take care of many, many that need help. You are a very lovable and loving cat, Thimmy: The number of mice you neglected to slaughter, and the times you did not bite the magicians even as they planned your murder! You are very special and I am privileged to have you as my colleague. Now off you go."
Thimmy vanished.
I found myself rushing down a vast tunnel and saw a light at the end of it growing brighter and brighter.
Someone was shining a torch-light into my eyes.
Thimmy was sitting in my bed staring at me. I stared back into his eyes. His pupils grew larger and larger: I looked deeper and deeper.
Limpid, blue skies above-emerald green forest below. In front of a cave, overlooking a shimmering lake in the valley below, sat a man, must be a holy man of some order. One only saw his eyes-the rest of him, his loin cloth, crossed legs, delicate hands, and even the cave and the forest were vague back-ground for his eyes. He was smiling; it was his eyes that smiled.
In front of him was another person-haggard, unshaven, unkempt, sitting half propped up against a boulder. It was "I". There were three labels on his shirt Krishna, Mohan and Manohar. The names, however, never remained stationary or steady. Sometimes Krishna would stand out clearly while the rest faded; at another time two brightened at one and the same time; sometimes all three faded out.
"I" was talking to the holy man, "We are sorry to disturb you, sir, in this unexpected manner. One is bad enough, but three of us is too much, we know, or do we! You see, we want to sing and dance; we want to eat and not sing; we want to eat food without germs; we want to talk to all things; we want to keep away from things that bite; and we want to cease to be at all, and not care to sing or dance or eat or fear or fly; and we don't know which one of us wants which, or even who is who, and when, and for how long." As "I" talked, the labels kept bouncing and changing.
The holy man listened patiently, looking steadily at "I". "Only three!" he said, as if surprised. "All of you and more of you are welcome, " he added and lapsed into silence.
Quite suddenly Thimmy appeared by the side of the holy man. He was standing there with a show of great humility and courtesy. He bowed three times, touched the sage's feet, all this with many winks, grimaces and grins, and purrs. The sage gently stroked him, and bade him sit down, and speak if he must, since he was obviously bursting to say something.
"Beg to report, Master," Thimmy, pointing to me, "this exhibit, you asked me to look after is this over here. All is well, Master, and as you desired. This can see, hear, feel remember, sometimes laugh-no think, no talk, not much do. Forgive me, however, for having allowed it to write when it may, since that was not specifically prohibited. Moreover, this remembers nothing that it does not write, down there. It is in the hands of a number of magicians in white coats. They are powerful, Master, for they quickly discovered that cats have something to do with it. They are planning many tortures I heard mention of tubes, shocks, fits, cuts and so on. However, I shall keep an eye."
"But, why did it get into the hands of magicians, " asked the sage.
" Master, there is nothing you do not know. However, I understand that there, a thing like this must have a name and know it and write it. It must also continuously talk and eat. There are other things, too,-if a body does not know its name, and does not talk or eat, it becomes dangerous, and is straightaway given over to the magicians. I also learnt from the magicians there that lying still and laughing without cause makes it a definitely dangerous cat. What is a cause, Master?" Thimmy wanted to know.
"Thimmy, you are already getting infected. You talk too much and you have begun asking questions. I see that you must be sent on leave after this job is over." said the sage.
"But, mercy for this once, Master, because these magicians say they are going to find the cause and do something with it. I know a lot about magicians and, even so, I do not see how I can protect, if I do not know what they intend to do," begged Thimmy on bended knees, "and I do so want to help. I have grown to like this thing, here."
"Thimmy, you are in grave danger. First, you talk and talk; next, you ask questions; then you have begun wanting and liking. Talking, thinking, questioning and wanting-you are no longer pure see, pure hear, pure feel and pure do," rebuked the sage. "Thimmy, you were asked to look after it, now as it is: Nothing was said of magicians, and their intentions or inventions. With the magicians it is always not now, not this. That is a cause, Thimmy, the thing that comes in the head of these magicians after something has happened. Leave the magicians to their upside down ways. Let me see, now, read out your instructions, Thimmy; at least now read them out."
Thimmy produced a sheet of paper from one of the numerous pockets that seemed to sprout up wherever he put his hand, put on a pair of glasses, squinted at the paper and began to read:
"Instructions to Thimmy-that is me. Part I. Principles of operation for special grade agents-section, rescue, recovery and rehabilitation:
- No talk (See exception in foot-note)
- No think, no plan.
- No want.
- Pure see, pure hear, pure touch, pure feel etc.
- Pure do.
Note: Talk is part of do.
Pure do possible only when 1 to 4 implemented.
4 and 5 not possible if 1,2,3 not implemented. Shall I go on to Part II, Master."
"That will do. Now look at me!" ordered the Sage.
And as he looked at Thimmy things happened. I too stared at Thimmy. Now Thimmy stood frozen. One of his ears was a telephone, and the other a microphone. One eye was a telescope and the other a microscope. Numerous telegraph poles were sticking out of his head sending out and receiving flashes of lightnings. Inside his head, I could see, was giant machinery chugging, whirring, sparking and pumping out words, wires, traps, screws, adjectives, microbes and monkeys-especially monkeys. These issued forth in millions, pulling everything they saw to pieces, taking of a bite from this or that and spitting out-regiments of them screaming 'not this, not this!' They rushed out spreading themselves all over the world, tearing up, breaking up, some tearing up roots, others cutting open frogs and dogs and men, yet others digging deep into earth causing jagged holes. Always and ever, their war cry was 'Not this! Not this!' as they filled the earth and heavens with their marauding search for something they never seemed to find.
Soon it was getting worse. Everyone and everything seemed to get involved with the monkeys: some running away from them, some helping them, some helping and imitating them, some fighting them. The earth and skies were filled with dust, din, and smoke and blood and filth.
I saw one monkey bite something and spit out a book. Soon I saw hundreds of books and papers flooding over the chaos like froth on a deluge, as many monkeys became similarly engaged. Many more monkeys engaged themselves in biting and tearing up the books already there, and spitting out more and more books, and as the flood increased little else could be seen. The apes were not only tearing up other things but also each other-bite, taste, spit and scream in rage. 'Not this! Not this!'
Looking for causes-said a voice.
I saw the holy man, sitting cross-legged, still as a statue, with half-closed eyes. I saw that a pale blue stream of light from his forehead illumined the rigid outline of Thimmy. The holy man opened his eyes, and Thimmy shook himself, relaxed and looked his usual Thimmy-self. He promptly took out a rosary from one of his ready pockets and began running it through his fingers furiously.
The sage, then, looked at Thimmy and said, "Thimmy, you look fine. Now, look at this other thing, here."
Thimmy looked and I saw-it was 'I' leaning against the boulder. 'I' appeared to be sitting there muttering to himself; and more and more labels were sprouting up-flashing and fading-labels of all colours and shapes. 'I' was looking like a sequined python under neon lights. Krishna, Mohan and Manohar were there, but my eyes also caught labels like leg, dog, earthworm, stomach, pig, fear, love, jackdaw, envy, mule, ape, danger, snake, danger and so on-all endlessly flashing and fading and fusing and weaving themselves into weird patterns and designs, and in turn labels springing up on the designs.
"You see," the holy man continued. "for some months, now, I have noticed some pieces with labels floating into this area. Then, more and more were coming, and more frequently. I saw that these pieces were not from different packages, but from some one package. Only recently, quite a sizable one arrived, and I felt that the whole package was here. But the wrapping was missing. Even now you can see that the labels are popping up and may fly off any minute.
"It was clearly a very loose wrapper, Thimmy. You know that with this sort of baggage, the wrapper must grow apace with the contents. The wrapper must grow stronger and tougher as the baggage grows and more stuff comes in. But you know that millions of packs come with poor wrapping-too much production, millions of them are beyond repair. Either they spill all over or fall to pieces, and become grist for fresh manufacture.
"Each package is sent with a wrapping agent put in. If you have to have a package that is to grow, you can't send it down ready wrapped:can you? So the wrapping agent is set inside. It goes on secreting and securing and toughening as the contents change. But, as you can see, in millions of cases, the wrapping agent is still poor stuff and spills the beans. Each agent who fails with a pack has to wait till he finds another one; it goes on like that, till he becomes better and better able to hold together. You can also see that these packages hold not just beans, but jumping jelly-beans. So the wrapper may get loose, or too small, or get punctured from outside but also broken through from within. So, the wrapping agent has not only to wrap, but also arrange the inner contents, and proper entry points to the things that come in. Otherwise the agent may well get smothered.
"Now, you see, the wrapping agent is within and secret; the wrapper is only what you see; and that the wrapping agent has to gain and grow from experience to experience at this job. A few very experienced agents remain as rescue and repair operators for some suitable but stumbling agents that come to us. That is the help you are giving me, Thimmy. You see, when I had the bundle here, I found the wrapping agent missing and fabric of wrapping also, and I hoped you might keep an eye on that. I see you have done that." The sage smiled benevolently at Thimmy.
"Sounds like sardine tins with a bit of salt and sauce in them." remarked Thimmy.
"I see you have not forgotten your work at the fish canning factory, Thimmy. Yes, you have something to say?" said the sage, seeing that Thimmy was still muttering to himself.
"Only that this business of wrapper and wrapping and beans smells of groceries, brown paper and butter smudges. This bird here can only be got at by words like homeostat, integrator, mediator, pace-maker, feed-back, fed-up and square roots and so on. That is the stuff, I say. You can see this one here beginning to giggle." said Thimmy.
"Thank you, Thimmy, I forgot you are a very educated cat. I forget your close connections with the magicians below, and the numerous searches and researches they made inside you and on you, looking for causes. You could have become a magician yourself if they let you into their trade, and if we did not need you," said the holy man.
"Just one more point, Master," implored Thimmy, "why send a cat agent to rescue a man agent, why not send me to a cat?"
"As for being a cat and rescuing a man-agent it should not surprise you, Thimmy. Down there you have taught them so much about this business of 'Not this! Not this' we thought you would be the fit one to tell them, 'This and This.' Yes, you have a lot more to do. You are a good one, Thimmy, the best agent. No one had their wrappings broken up as many times in as many years as you have, and yet remained such a beautiful Thimmy, full of such fun and humour against so much cruelty. It is that which gives such a stretch to your wrap-look at the number of times they have torn you and look at you, not a scratch!" said the sage.
"Thank you, Master," said Thimmy, "only, I would not say stretch; elasticity, plasticity, flexibility,l/b ratio, perhaps."
"Truly you have become an adept at the magician's language. You may have need to use it. Now you may go on with your good work," said the holy man.
"And this bundle of contents, here," said Thimmy pointing to the writhing 'I', "is it to remain here or shall I bung it into the wrapper?"
"You surprise me, Thimmy," said the sage, "your ignorance! You don't bung anything into anything. They themselves attend to it. The agent is there and it is his job. All we do is to keep a loving eye on what comes to us. Of course, I said repair; but the method is simply to love and take care of what comes to you. And when you love and care for, your wrap automatically covers what you love and care for, and healing happens. You see, Thimmy, you and I have wrapping agents that can take in and take care of many, many that need help. You are a very lovable and loving cat, Thimmy: The number of mice you neglected to slaughter, and the times you did not bite the magicians even as they planned your murder! You are very special and I am privileged to have you as my colleague. Now off you go."
Thimmy vanished.
I found myself rushing down a vast tunnel and saw a light at the end of it growing brighter and brighter.
Someone was shining a torch-light into my eyes.
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