The anthropocentric amongst us rarely consider how targets of our superstitions view them. This morning, as I staggered towards the railway station en route to work, I had occasion to halt smack on my tracks. There was a black cat attempting to cross my path. Naturally, I recalled the old superstition and paused to stare at the beast. The cat, none too pleased at my glare, arched its back and spat in my direction.
It then proceeded to walk across my path towards the street, whereupon a car passing by splashed a puddle and drenched it to the bone. It was not happy, I can tell you. The resultant yowl made my hair (such as it is) stand on end, and my progress towards the train was considerably less staggered.
And once again is reinforced among felines that old tale: beware a human crossing your path.
It then proceeded to walk across my path towards the street, whereupon a car passing by splashed a puddle and drenched it to the bone. It was not happy, I can tell you. The resultant yowl made my hair (such as it is) stand on end, and my progress towards the train was considerably less staggered.
And once again is reinforced among felines that old tale: beware a human crossing your path.
1 comments:
sometimes you wonder how this one became more universal than others. this black cat thing goes beyond the indian borders.
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