Yes, he's real. Yes, he runs the show here.


Keto is shy. He's afraid of basically everyone, including me sometimes. Golden Persian, gentle, big eyes, prefers the people who ignore him.
Met my aunt at my grandmother's house โ she asked if I wanted a cat. Who says no to a cat offer? He was at our door within 12 hours.
Mom wanted to call him Kittu โ Hindi nickname from kitten, despite him being a full-grown cat when we met. I countered with Keto. Sounds like the diet; has nothing to do with it.
The terrace is his entire winter world โ sun, breeze, pigeons to plot against. By Alwar summer the heat keeps him cooped up inside, slipping into proper feline depression mode until the weather turns.
Every morning he tries to catch pigeons. Strike rate: 0%. Enthusiasm: undented.
Around 5 PM tea time he climbs onto my keyboard โ his way of telling me work has had enough of my attention. If I step away, he claims the chair. Quiet, steady resistance to me getting too much done.
If you have a safe square of ground you love and one thing you keep showing up for, that's most of the bar cleared.
"In a world full of chaos, Keto reminds me that persistence and having your own safe space (like his beloved terrace) are the keys to contentment."