Purrs of Wisdom

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Halfway through Chapter 2,a discerning reader especially if she loves animals,with an extra fondness for cats will come to a realisation: the only way to read The Hundred Names of Darkness,Nilanjana Roys sequel to The Wildings 2012,a tale about a clan of cats in New Delhis historic Nizamuddin area,is to accept that,much like the first book,this one is also inconvenienced by the authors inability to see cats as four-legged felines,not quadruped humans. With an unwilling suspension of disbelief firmly in place,the reader can then move on,accepting this anthropocentric world in which animals are essentially humans in furry or winged form,with human vocabularies and personalities including temper tantrums; if readers are particularly suggestible,they might even develop a fondness for the many cats and birds and dogs that traipse through the pages.

The sequel cannot be read as a stand-alone book and this could prove a problem for those who have not read The Wildings. A few months after the great battle with the feral alpha cat Datura and his tribe,the worries of Katar,the Nizamuddin clans elder,have come true: life is becoming harder for the clan. Once the danger of dog-catching vans,which were called in after the devastation of battle,had passed,the cats and birds,squirrels and dogs faced a new threat: rapid urbanisation. The old houses,the trees that offered both shelter and prey,and the parks have been ruthlessly obliterated to make way for towering buildings. The gentle fakir,friend to the Nizamuddin cats,had been forced to leave after the shrine he tended was demolished; without the food he shared,prey dwindling,and the increasingly belligerent Bigfeet the authors name for humans the cats have to survive a harsh winter and gear up for a cruel summer.

The Sender,that cat of great power born only in the dark times,in the lean years,is the need of the hour. But where is she? Mara who was introduced in The Wildings as the Sender is a little older but not much wiser. About a year old but still a kitten at heart,she spends her days being petted and cuddled,and playing with her stuffed companions,a battered monkey and a catnip-filled mouse. She steps out into the wider world only through her virtual self,her sendings; her antennae her supersensitive,telepathic whiskers are how she keeps a protective eye on the antics of her friend Southpaw,or visits her tiger friend Ozzy at the zoo.

But she will soon learn what being a Sender is about when Delhis Circle of Senders Begum,the calico Speaker,the Sender from the banks of the Yamuna; Umrrow Jaan,the Mehrauli Sender; Jalebi of Chandni Chowk; Baoli of Hauz Khas; and Spook of the Embassy area summons her to a meet. Maras virtual self leaves the Circle with a growing realisation of her powers and responsibilities

as a Sender.

The characters from The Wildings are back: the lovely black-and-white Beraal Bengali for cat is now nursing her two kittens; Katar,lean and grey as an éminence grise,injured in battle and Bigfeet cruelty; the black tom Hulo,as battered and independent,and as disdainful of the young Sender; Kirri the mongoose,a chance encounter with whom leaves Mara aware of herself as a predator; and Tooth the cheel eagle,who led his squadron against Daturas division in the first book and upon whom the cats depend more than ever.

Roy adds new faces amongst this stricken soldiery: the Delhi Senders; Hatch and Mach,Tooths children; Thomas Mor,a peacock; Magnificat,Sender from Paolim,Goa; Doginder Singh,a friendly,nonpartisan stray who becomes Maras guide and protector; and Mulligan,Mashie and Niblick,cats of the Delhi Golf Course.

All this appears inventive,but possessed ailurophiles such as myself will find the anthropomorphism first noted in The Wildings more pronounced here. Thus,a peacock and assorted cats with the inflexion and mannerisms of stereotypical Colonels Bogeys of the British Army; young cheels who behave and mumble like sulky human teenagers; a gabby cat with a love of gossip; a cobra whos out to avenge the death of his mate; a cat who thinks nothing of taking on and killing powerful cobras. But,despite its roster of eccentrics,what marks the sequel is its slow pace. After the relentless,frenetic action in The Wildings,it seems to drag its paws. The travails of the Nizamuddin clan are prolix,the details a procession of plaints against human love of development at huge cost to other species. On the other hand,Maras grand plan to shift the clan to greener pastures,which had the makings of a resounding climax,is dealt with hurriedly,affording one no satisfaction.

But a non-human critique of human

existential follies needs an allegory,and The Hundred Names of Darkness isnt one. If you read it expecting neither Animal Farm nor Kaspar: Prince of Cats,you could come away compensated for your time.

Banerjee is a senior editor in academic publishing based in Kolkata