geceydi... guzeldi...
dundu... geceydi... lodos cikti cikacakti... hava yumusakti... ne zamandir ilk defa uskudar-besiktas motorunda sigara icerken ellerim donmadi... ne guzeldi...
denizin yeni yikanmis carsaf kokusu icinde giderken buyudum buyudum buyudum. govdem kocaman oldu, butun bogazi kapladi. istanbul'un kalbi midir burasi? kalbinin uzerinde durdum istanbul'un. hizla baktim pencerelerden iceri. umutsuzluk icin bir suru gerekce vardi. ve umut icin de...
zordu, kaprisliydi, simarikti, bazen alirdi da vermezdi, bazen verirdi ve sonra hemen geri isterdi, karsiliksiz verdigi gorulmemisti...
guzeldi, narindi, tek bir dokunusuyla sevindirirdi... buna ragmen bu kenti sevmemek mumkundu... kendini sevmek icin burayi sevmemek gibi bir secenek her zaman vardi.
bastan cikarirdi... ama bir sefer, sadece bir sefer. sonrasinda yasananlar bastan cikarma degil, ancak vazgecememe, korku, tutku filan olabilirdi.
yine de insanin aklinin bir kosesinde bir dag olurdu hep. yedi tepe yetmezdi kimilerine...
ama umut guzeldi... madem ki hava yumusakti, madem ki deniz yeni yıkanmis carsaf gibi kokuyordu, madem ki ay da vardi ve dolunay degildi, madem ki hala kocaman olup bakabiliyordum kente, o zaman umut da vardi...
****
it was warm last night. as i smoked my cigarette while going to besiktas from uskudar, my fingers were warm. that was a good sign. the sea smelled beautiful and looked calm. i had many reasons to be hopeful and so did many people.
as the boat approached besiktas, i felt my body grow to be a huge entity hanging above the bosphorus. was that the heart of istanbul? i took a quick glance through windows. there were many reasons for hopelessness and hope.
the city was tough, spoiled, sometimes she took from you and did not pay back, sometimes she gave you something but took it back soon, she never gave anything without a price.
she was beautiful, elegant, fragile... yet it was possible to dislike this city. it was possible to dislike her so that you can like your own self.
she could seduce you, but for once only... the rest could only be obsession or fear...
yet you would always have a mountain in one corner of your mind. seven hills would not be enough for some people.
but hope was nice. since it was warm, since the sea smelled fresh, since there was the moon -plus not a full one-, since i could still grow to take a look at the city from the above, then there was hope...
denizin yeni yikanmis carsaf kokusu icinde giderken buyudum buyudum buyudum. govdem kocaman oldu, butun bogazi kapladi. istanbul'un kalbi midir burasi? kalbinin uzerinde durdum istanbul'un. hizla baktim pencerelerden iceri. umutsuzluk icin bir suru gerekce vardi. ve umut icin de...
zordu, kaprisliydi, simarikti, bazen alirdi da vermezdi, bazen verirdi ve sonra hemen geri isterdi, karsiliksiz verdigi gorulmemisti...
guzeldi, narindi, tek bir dokunusuyla sevindirirdi... buna ragmen bu kenti sevmemek mumkundu... kendini sevmek icin burayi sevmemek gibi bir secenek her zaman vardi.
bastan cikarirdi... ama bir sefer, sadece bir sefer. sonrasinda yasananlar bastan cikarma degil, ancak vazgecememe, korku, tutku filan olabilirdi.
yine de insanin aklinin bir kosesinde bir dag olurdu hep. yedi tepe yetmezdi kimilerine...
ama umut guzeldi... madem ki hava yumusakti, madem ki deniz yeni yıkanmis carsaf gibi kokuyordu, madem ki ay da vardi ve dolunay degildi, madem ki hala kocaman olup bakabiliyordum kente, o zaman umut da vardi...
****
it was warm last night. as i smoked my cigarette while going to besiktas from uskudar, my fingers were warm. that was a good sign. the sea smelled beautiful and looked calm. i had many reasons to be hopeful and so did many people.
as the boat approached besiktas, i felt my body grow to be a huge entity hanging above the bosphorus. was that the heart of istanbul? i took a quick glance through windows. there were many reasons for hopelessness and hope.
the city was tough, spoiled, sometimes she took from you and did not pay back, sometimes she gave you something but took it back soon, she never gave anything without a price.
she was beautiful, elegant, fragile... yet it was possible to dislike this city. it was possible to dislike her so that you can like your own self.
she could seduce you, but for once only... the rest could only be obsession or fear...
yet you would always have a mountain in one corner of your mind. seven hills would not be enough for some people.
but hope was nice. since it was warm, since the sea smelled fresh, since there was the moon -plus not a full one-, since i could still grow to take a look at the city from the above, then there was hope...
posted by JoA at 12:52 PM
2 Comments:
Yes....you would always have a mountain in one corner of your mind...
and everything gets placed upon the slope, and measured against the sides of our mountain...
Istanbul in the spring air... seemingly fragile yet hardened by history and repeated cycles of people passing through.. like waves... invaders, emperors and impirators... multitudes and minorities...bacteria and bacchus-loving revellers...
still we all hang together, in a mosaic that confuses and bedazzles...
history is a stick with which we beat ourselves; love is an obsession that drives, hates, and purifies...
Welcome...and Come...whoever you are
what a lovely description of istanbul!
can i find out who i am? that's all the hope is about.
and is love really an obsession?
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