I was seven, the kitty was Rs200 individually, with a total of 12 members, equalling a hefty sum of Rs2,400. This transpired 33 years ago. I heard the words committee lunch — for some reason my mother has never referred to the committee by its shorter and more happening name kitty — and I thought what the heck is mother referring to... now I know! It was a committee then, it’s a kitty now.

Historically, kitty is when a group of people, mostly women come together to pool in money every month and hand over the lump sum to one person; the cycle goes on until all the kitty members have had their share of interest free borrowing, thus the kitty cycle ends until the new cycle begins. Sounds simple! Not so. I have seen the most intense egos, paranoias, insecurities and personality complexities surface during kitty stints. One would have thought that having evolved from cavemen to modern 21st century women we would have matured, but our cave women instincts are still alive and kicking.

Take this story: during a kitty stint it was requested that all members try to bring in large bills as a courtesy to the collecting member. Since the kitty lunch is held in a public place and the total amount of the kitty is $20,000, therefore a $100 bill will be preferred over a $20, $10 and in some cases $5 bill. The three words; requested, try and courtesy were all used in the same order, but egos were bruised nonetheless. The following phrases were heard in the kitty corridors by many; ‘how dare she’, ‘she expects us to go inside the bank and not the ATM’, ‘I don’t have the time’, ‘look at her telling us what to do’, ‘I’m going to give small bills’, ‘I don’t care if it’s a public place and she has to sit and count 1,000 bills or more’. Mind you this comes from the so-called modern western women, and mostly professional, I might add.

Another anecdote, a seemingly ultra-rich (truly) feline refuses to give her kitty on time. Parting with cash is not easy for her, she may be oozing money, she may be owing money but I see her teeth grind and her hands glued to the money when she hands it over. On countless occasions she has had to be reminded and reminded and reminded, and very courteously I might add.

It’s popular belief that the rich cannot be reminded, however courteously — it’s blasphemy. On the sixth consecutive monthly reminder the feline got offended, how dare I be reminded, I am the giant from Jack and the Beanstalk, I am rich, I’ll fry all of you small fish, eat you and will not even give you the green. Let me remind you that yours’ truly has the guts of a hammerhead, and so at the risk of not being invited to the next big event in town, I sent the reminder. The well worded reminder was sent, the party happened, all desis invited but one.Boohoo I sat home and shed a river of tears and never got to eat the manna from heaven and the finely cut fruit from Lake Cumo.

My all time favourite tantrum is that the kitty has to be handed over to her Majesty the Queen of Diamonds at her Royal abode. I will not take it anywhere else, come to my not-so-humble pad and hand it over to my royal servant (an illegal immigrant I might add), that is my demand. I am the Queen, do as I say.

Funnily enough these are all financially wealthy women who loudly say that they are in the kitty to socialise, not to say that $20,000 is not a nice chunk of change, but I do not see the socially amiable side of it, though the feline side is pretty obvious. Aha, maybe that’s why it’s called the kitty club; if nothing else it gives us a good cat fight, and therefore a reason to make this my last stint. Salams, after this year is over, I’m out. I think this one has to go down in my list of been there done that. Fight it out cat women, I’ll sit out the next one, and the next and maybe the next... until the kitty becomes a committee again.