Angie – a young woman working at BUH (the Beautiful University of Heaven), whom I introduced in a previous post), opened the door of her flat, put her bag and her books on her table, and called her cat bissa bissa. She hardly called the name once that she felt the little black and white cat walking slowly towards her and answering with her most beautiful and soft voice “miaou… miaou…” . Angie turned the light on and sat for a few minutes talking to the little cat. Bissa bissa has been with her for the last 3 years. It came into her life the day she decided to move from her parents’ house to a tiny little flat near BUH and has stayed with her since then. You are probably wondering what bissa bissa means. Well, Angie has been told that bissa comes from a very old forgotten language and it simply means cat. Angie can’t remember why she called her cat like that, she can’t recall when she heard the name for the first time and above all, she feels and knows deep inside that it doesn’t matter what we are called, a name is just a tag to make things simpler (or… more complicated depending on our point of view). Bissa bissa spends her days in the tiny flat and sometimes takes little walks outside to have a little chat with her fellow cats in BUH. Angie likes to spend time with bissa bissa because she feels that the little cat is a very good listener and an amazing friend.
(the kind of … friends which is very hard to find nowadays, even in Heaven :)… and I don’t mean to offend anyone reading this post :). I am sure that in this life, we do what we can to survive, to work, to gain money (and even more money), to buy cloth and stuff (that we probably will never use), to buy food and to pay our bills… and …euh to find happiness(???)- well I am not sure about this last one- … and sometimes we forget that the most important thing beyond all the material belongings and beyond all the material properties, is the human touch. And this is what Angie found in bissa bissa. She knows that this little cat is sincere and honest (although the expression “human touch” can’t apply here, but I will use it anyway, until I find a better relevant one). She knows that no matter what will happen this little cat will always love her. It wouldn’t need to play tricks or games, it wouldn’t need to play hard to get. It simply offers “free unconditional love”- the kind of love which is hard to explain and which is even harder to find, the kind of feeling that little kids have for people they love. For a detailed explanation on “free unconditional love” please visit this link and read the article that starts with “February 14th is…”)
Angie then stood up, went to the bathroom, washed her hands and headed to the fridge. She needed something to eat. She found apples and other fruits. The apples had been hanging around for the last few days and have been looking at her urging her to eat them. She didn’t feel like having an apple. She could never understand the link between apples and her parents. But she knew that eating an apple in her tiny flat, wasn’t as satisfying and as tasty as eating it at her parents’ house, and this is probably why she never could convince herself to eat an apple in her flat. Sometimes, she used to drag an apple or two in her lunch bag to work, but she couldn’t eat any apples. She stared at the apple, and the apple stared back. She sometimes used to spend about 10 minutes talking herself into eating the apple but she simply couldn’t, and this evening, she didn’t feel like having anything to do with apples. She closed the fridge door, sat on her couch, called Bissa bissa to her side and turned the TV on. She needed something to talk, to say something, no matter what it was. She needed something to fill this silence on the outside and to shut this noise and all the arguments on the inside.
She has been thinking all day long about a sentence she read in a book. She couldn’t grasp the meaning of the expression. She tried to convince herself to forget it but a little voice kept urging her to understand it. The little voice in her head kept arguing, talking and discussing the importance of this expression, which is “love is a verb”, and another voice in her head kept asking “what on earth does this mean? Love, a verb? Not a noun nor a feeling?
In tomorrow’s post I will go into details about this particular expression. Would you read it? I hope so. Hope to hear from you. Have an amazing day 🙂
(By Zeina Gabriel)