Chapter 1: The Talent Show and Internet Fame

I am a cat—Dadi’s Billu—and today, we’re off to win ten lakh rupees at the village pet talent show.

The morning was sticky-hot, the air thick with the sweet tang of mango trees and the unmistakable whiff of cow dung wafting from the fields. Dadi cinched her dupatta tight, gripping my carrier in one hand and her old cloth purse in the other, muttering, “Arrey, Billu, behave yourself. Ten lakh rupees, samjhi?” All around us, cats and dogs looked lost, villagers gossiped, and the mice darted about like Bollywood stars at a wedding, weaving through legs and grain sacks, making a full tamasha of the whole affair.

Out in the fields, while other pets stood helpless against the cunning mice, I spun in my carrier, popped the latch, and strutted out to show my signature move: catching mice single-handedly.

As I slipped free, my tail flicked with proper Mumbai tapori swag. The crowd fell silent. Somewhere, a chaiwala’s glass clinked. My ears twitched, eyes locked on a mud-splattered mouse peeking from a dry grass bundle. In a flash, I pounced, catching it by the scruff. The onlookers gasped, like Salman Khan himself had made an entrance. Before anyone could blink, every mouse in the field lined up at my feet—waiting for prasad after aarti.

Barrage:

[This cat is a genius! Tagging my own silly furball.]

[So after all these years, the kid still doesn’t talk, eh?]

[Instant KO! This cat’s a total boss.]

[I’ve seen this cat before—sat behind me during the board exams and even submitted its paper early.]

People’s WhatsApp groups exploded with my photos, TikTok videos of my mouse-chasing moves trended by evening. Even the local cable TV flashed: “Dadi’s Billu stuns entire village!”

Someone in the crowd dropped a samosa in shock; the smell of frying onions mixed with the cheers. In a single morning, I was no longer just Dadi’s Billu—I’d become an internet sensation.