The Dr. Iftikhar case last week proved that the cat is out of the bag. The consequences of letting the cat in the bag for so long are going to affect us all now.

It is not just the cat that is out of the bag; one by one it has a litter popping up behind it, as well.

It is no surprise that the litter cueing up inside the bag should be countless, as Pakistan’s family size has always beggared belief, as far as humans are concerned.

The real problem, however, is that our wish of being able to settle the members of this family remains unfulfilled as their numbers remain unascertained.

Now try considering the gravity of the situation – by no means are these cubs ordinary. Every feline is a significant personality ruling the hearts of the millions of Pakistani spectators, we are told.

Each and every one of these significant personalities made up to the nines and under extremely expensive baby lights runs his or her own version of a ‘live from the supreme court’ hearing. God forbid, had their gender been indeterminate, we would have run into more trouble.

Sometimes when they get bored of the perpetually same live show, then they discover the topics like our ‘missing brothers and sisters’ to an amazement all their own.

Sometimes when we get tired of our sleazy labor and escape to the retreat of the ‘Shaheed Benazir Bhutto Park’ wishing for an innocent date (what else can be done in a park) then these cuddly felines turn into vicious pit bulls, hounding us into realising our helplessness.

These tireless kitties are armed with historic golden words, critical juncture of time, courage and valour while constantly defining our perimeters.

I am facing extreme difficulty on deciding how and where to find suitable abode for these beautiful domesticated creatures.

After all they have come out of a bag that is no less mysterious than Ummro Ayyar’s bag of tricks. It is not just a poor storyteller’s bag but also a bag wearing the unmistakable scent of wealth and its worthy labyrinths from a previous night’s adventures.

A friend called me over the telephone and said, ‘I have had enough, and we must do something about it.’ I completely agreed with him.

Another friend called me, who is a fellow traveler in this trashy path of journalism ‘we are truly ****ed.’ She said, and I completely agreed with her as well.

Another friend called to say that it’s a great opportunity to do investigative stories. I was really impressed and I timidly admitted that this great angle had completely escaped my attention.

But unfortunately, I still have to solve this riddle: how on earth we are going to arrange a suitable residence according to their respective statures once the seemingly endless supply of kittens stops popping?!

I understand the nature of my banal concern for regal cubs and even though it doesn’t mean our lives will be any easier after they have courted a new found freedom and settled in their old routine.

But I still feel bad about not being able to find them an abode where they can rein supreme and never have to hide in a bag again. Can you please help!