This body we carry around is such a vehicle. It has its own set of really sophisticated detectors; it produces tears when our heart is touched by something sorrow-brining or joy-filling, two emotions on opposite ends of the spectrum. It gives us burning sensations when we feel great joy, or great annoyance, or great anticipation. What is really impressive is that it uses the same set of symptoms to indicate a host of contradicting emotions. Our knees can become jelly-like when we win a prize, go on stage to sing, receive really bad news, or get an unexpected bouquet of roses.
The burning sensation that eats away at our nerves, making us cough nervously and ready to shoot ourselves, can be brought about by many stimuli… it can be triggered by intense locked up emotions that you fight all day long so you won’t express them impulsively, colossally, crazily. I know people with great ability to bear the heat of anticipation, love, emotions, joy, sorrow; they aren’t the “burnt onion” kinda folk.
On the other hand when one’s onion is the type that can turn into charcoal the instant love starts forming in the horizon… expect a lot of suffering. Suffering is not limited to bad things in life, suffering is a word that signifies an over-activity of emotions taking place around the body, the ribs included (Um Kalthoum was right when she sang: Yakwee Adlo3ee – ironing my ribs). When suffering hits the heart that’s when we enter the red zone, but if it’s still in the ribs, bones and flesh, then it’s orange, or yellow, depending on the intensity.
We suffer when we fall in love because we aren’t trained to take high temperature. If we were built from something other than flesh (like Light, for instance), I think our ability to sit calmly inside the fire of love, like Prophet Ibrahim, would have been double fold (“Ya naru kooni bardan wa Salaman 3ala Ibrahim”). I admire people who burn and brace themselves and carry on with life without any sign of fatigue. The “khroo2” (weak) type, like this writer, melt under such pressure and start walking into walls (fooot fil 7eetan).
When fire starts burning the flesh of the impulsive type of woman with onion-ready-to-turn-into-charcoal temperament, then expect a lot of suffering. You try to relieve yourself from some of the internal steam by filtering through some messages here and there, not as an attempt to win over your beloved as much as an attempt to stop yourself from exploding.
I don’t know if the slow ironing of ribs can be captured on x-ray… Ya Mogheeeth.