The Cat and the Milk Pot

The Cat and the Milk Pot

BY:Khan

It was only a few months ago, yet the memory remains fresh in my mind — strange, mysterious, and unforgettable. My BA exams were just around the corner when, quite unexpectedly, I fell seriously ill. For days, I couldn’t even get out of bed. Weakness had taken over my body completely; every time I tried to stand, the world around me would spin, forcing me to lie back down again.

Naturally, my studies suffered. I could barely read or revise anything. After several days of medication — strictly as prescribed by the doctor — I began to feel slightly better. But by then, I had already lost an entire week. My strength hadn’t returned either. A few days before my exams, my mother sternly instructed me to take care of myself.

“Every night before sleeping, drink a glass of milk,” she said. “And don’t stay up late studying. Whatever you need to revise, do it early in the morning.”

She was careful about this routine. Every night, she would boil the milk and place the metal pot — the garvi — in my room so it could cool slightly. Once it was lukewarm, I’d pour myself a glass, drink it, and then put the rest in the fridge.

Two nights later, something happened that I can never forget.

That night, I finished my studies, poured myself a glass of milk, and drank it. The milk was still warm, so I thought I’d put the rest in the fridge after a few minutes. I lay down on my bed — and must have drifted off to sleep without realizing it.

I don’t know how long I slept before a loud clang startled me awake. It sounded like a metal pot falling onto the floor. My heart started pounding. I sat up, my eyes darting around the dimly lit room. Something felt off. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement — something small, dark, and fast.

At first, I thought I was imagining things. But then I saw it again — a black object bouncing rapidly across the floor, knocking into things and making a noise like tumbling metal. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I realized that the object was near the milk pot.

And then it hit me — the pot was moving on its own!

My breath caught in my throat. The garvi was jerking up and down as if some invisible force was trying to lift it. My entire body froze in fear. I wanted to scream, but no sound came out. I couldn’t decide whether to run or stay put.

Gathering what little courage I had, I reached over and switched on the light. The scene that met my eyes made me gasp out loud.

“Oh my God!”

It wasn’t a ghost or anything supernatural. It was a black cat — her head completely stuck inside the milk pot!

The poor creature must have smelled the milk and, out of curiosity or hunger, pushed her face too far inside. Now her head was wedged tight, and in her panic, she was jumping and thrashing around the room, making the pot clang loudly each time she moved.

For a moment, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The sight was both hilarious and terrifying.

The cat kept crashing into furniture, knocking over a stool and a few books from my study table. She was in such distress that it was impossible to go near her. Just then, my mother and brother rushed in, alarmed by the noise.

“What happened?” my mother shouted, her eyes wide with shock.

I pointed toward the chaos. The cat, still trapped in the garvi, was now spinning in circles like a wild creature. None of us knew what to do. My brother tried to approach her, but she hissed and leapt away.

Then, as if nature itself decided to intervene, the cat ran straight into the wall. There was a loud thud, followed by a sharp jerk of her head — and finally, her head came free from the pot!

For a few seconds, she just stood there, dazed and confused. Then, realizing she was free, she let out a low growl and dashed toward the door. But in her hurry, she collided with the room cooler and got tangled in the hardboard placed above it. With a frantic leap, she freed herself again and bolted out of my room.

My brother quickly opened the lounge door to give her a way out. The moment the door opened, the cat shot past us like an arrow and disappeared into the night.

Silence filled the house once again. We all stood there, breathing heavily, trying to process what had just happened. Then, almost at the same time, we burst into laughter.

Later, when the excitement settled, we tried to piece together how the cat had ended up in my room in the first place. After a bit of “family investigation,” we concluded that she must have entered through the cooler vent sometime during the night. Drawn by the smell of warm milk, she probably climbed up to the table and dipped her head into the pot — only to find herself trapped.

That explained the mysterious noise that had woken me.

I remember standing there, staring at the overturned pot and spilled milk, thinking how something so small could turn into such chaos. That night taught me two things: never underestimate the curiosity of a cat — and never leave milk uncovered in your room overnight!

Even now, whenever I see a black cat walking along the boundary wall or sitting near the kitchen, I can’t help but smile. Maybe it’s the same mischievous visitor from that unforgettable night — the one who turned my quiet study session into a midnight adventure.