The kicsik of Szaloncicaország
have turned 2 years old. They are celebrating their birthday the best
way they know, indulging in general mischief and nurturing their
already obvious gömbölyűség.
Instead of developing cica consciousness attending the Ország
Egyetem they have acquired distinctive personalities, celebrated and
feared in the same measure by the inhabitants of the Ország.
Cicanéni and Cicabácsi contemplate them everyday in their hardly
fought battles against seagull feathers and specially their mortal
enemy, the everywhere present carpet. Their scratching abilities have
no rival after these two years.
Dispite being
siblings, each of them is a distinctive individuality. Princess Repu,
gifted with a melodius voice has a tendency to roll over any minute.
But probably what she really shines at is her love for the
archaeology of the invisible. There is no corner, void, hole,
unattended space in the Ország that she would not explore in search
of the invisible presence that must have been filling it for decades,
years or just minutes. She returns from these scientific expeditions
with the air in her trembling whiskers that a big discovery has been
made (anti-matter perhaps, an echo of a lost symphony, or the spirit
of a melancholic mouse, long ago eaten by previous feline hunters?).
Nobody knows. Her most risky expeditions are those involving climbing
to impossible places; sometimes she stands on top of ladders,
bookshelves or wardrobes, looking up, projecting her whiskers to
invisible heights, probably more tempting. Or she may be considering
adding to her scientific career that of the astronomer of ceilings.
Fekete Tallinn is
not such a big lover of verticality, he prefers horizontality, as he
proves running after her sister. In this two years he has developed
an impressive body: this is the reason why Cicanéni insists on
calling him Párduc Tallinn. Every morning he is the first to salute
the new day, even when the sun is still not shining out there. Much
to Cicanéni and Cicabácsi chagrin, Tallinnn insists on
communicating his happiness about the new day, like if he was
surprised that a new day has been granted to the world. He also takes
the opportunity of demanding the first meal of the day and some
comforting caresses. His early antics, akin to those of a dilligent
cock, made Cicabácsi insist on the gazda origins of Tallinn. But
this is a matter of a controversy between Cicanéni and Cicabácsi
that cannot be discussed now.
Evenings are for
short and intense dialogues between Cicabácsi and Fekete Tallinn. It
must be said that it is in this exchanges that Párduc Tallinn
manifests clearly his stoicism and sober vision of the world (in
contrast with his exuberant and talkative sister); indeed, Tallinn
always replies with very concise words, precise like some aphorism
from Wittgenstein. Usually it is just a single, sharp word. Be. Meg.
Sometimes even “még”. Have you finished scratching the carpet?
“Be”, replies Párduc Tallinn. Why are you trying to run up the
curtain? Have you become crazy? “Meg”, replies Tallinn (and
Cicabácsi would swear there is an ironic grin on Tallinn´s face).
Are you going to stop scratching the carpet? “Még”, replies
Tallinn, while he shakes his head, replacing an unuttered “nem”.
Cicabácsi surrenders himself, finally, with equal stoicism, if you
want: “Azért szeretlek, Tallinn”.
