love to death

Walking on the thin thread , she minded her steps, with admirable concentration, she even didn’t seem to breathe. The life was between her feet and the surface of the thread . Taking slow paces, she kept moving, one and one more following. Her brain focused on the work.As she went on and on, everybody in the circus gawped at her with the eyes full of admiration and in respectable silence. Like her, nobody dared to breathe since they thought it’d make her fall down. The way on the thread seemed endless and with her slim body wearing a pure white dress , she seemed like a bewitching, beautiful, tiny puppet being hold by a blessed soul from somewhere in the dark sky over the circus.

Minutes later, a rustle from the back ruined the silence . A clown barged in swiftly. He was drenched by the rain pouring outside, exhausted from running, and a bit lunatic by some unknown reasons. Coming in front of the stage, he lifted his gaze to the beauty on the thread. Only that time did his eyes change. He ditched his dark dismay, watching her in silence just like anybody there. But he was not anybody there. His face carried the signs of sufferings from anguish inside, which gave him a pathetic appearance. His shoulders came down like carrying a luckless fate back, which made him bent. With no impress of life in his blue eyes, he kept on watching the adorable princess . Despite his funny clown costumes, no color of joy occured in him, he was like somebody that had just lost the most precious part of his body. Despite all these, his heart, where he had thrown away every clutter and where only did she sprawl, had been beating faster and faster since the time he saw her. Suddenly, he shed a tear which made a way down his white powdered cheeks that already had some lines, in which his waxy skin appeared , drawn by the raindrops outside. And another tear followed another. He broke down with deep hiccups.

Up on the thread, being aware of him, she stopped walking. Chills running down her spine, she started to shake, which made her lose balance. Tumult showed itself among people inside. The clown was still crying loudly. Unfortunately his eyes couldn’t see the fact that he was botching everything up and making her frightened. Strangely, he appeared shaking as if he had a shock. Then he lost all his grace, squatting down on his knees, yelling out. As for her, all the magic had gone, she was like a little incurable wounded bird hovering in the air. Crawling on the floor, the clown went near her. Only then did she look down into his eyes that were pleading with her to fly through him that couldn’t bear this painful longing anymore. She smiled at him, no fear was seen in her pretty face. She did not seem panicked in vain anymore, but did seem very happy since his eyes- as she could see- had vowed to love her to death. Looking at him, she swung back and forth on the thread for a while. It was clearly impossible for her to find balance again. When everywhere turned out a wavy, breathtaking sea just like his blue eyes full of tears, she backed down. With one more beautiful smile, she let herself glide in the air through her sea. As his princess was coming to him, he smiled too. He thought he could have clutched his lover before her landing on the ground. Unfortunately could he not. As the smiling angel hit on the floor, the multitude started to scream. He remained frozen with his hands hung up in the air and his embrace empty.

She had jumped to death. His brain couldn’t endure anymore and so did his heart. Before a heart attack came visit him, he was able to see her soul raising through the blue sky, where endless blue like his eyes waited for her, and calling out ‘I love you to death.’ Smiling back at her, he blew his soul out too. Only then did their hands find each other and his soul whispered ‘I love you to death.’ As confusion and screams broke out behind them in the circus, they happily left the hell where their bloody body laid lifeless…

He woke up with the screechy sound of the alarm. Straightening , he turned it off. He blinked his eyes as the first lights of the day shone on his face brightly. He stood in the light for a while. Then something came to his mind. This day was special. This day must have been the seventh of February. The soft wind moved the curtains gently, as if they were trying to say ‘Yes, it is… And happy birthday, Richard’. He smiled, alone lying in his bed, whispered ‘Yes, Richard… How many years have you been alive? It all has been fading away so quickly…ha? ’ He laughed at himself then, and started to sing a song he loved most. It seemed he would be merry that day. Standing up, he went near the window to see the beautiful Istanbul Bosporus and breathe the fresh air coming through it. Being far away from his own town, here, he felt something quaint inside. As the cold –despite the sun- and clean air hit on his face, he shook. Closing the window, a scenery from the past crossed his mind. His mother calling out from the window: ‘ Richard, come home..it’s dinner time…’ and closing the window to go prepare the table. Years, years ago…when the calendar again showed the seventh of February. So there was a pretty meal for her beloved son from his mother, the one he loved most. And also a delicious hand-made birthday cake, whatever he liked. And he came in, all in sweat from playing outside for hours…and dirt also…yelling out: ‘Mum…what is the hur…’ and he stopped…shouting: ‘ awwwwww!!!! What are all these? Mummy…. ’ he rushed into the table. His mother ,looking at him sincerely , smiling… Proud of watching her dear son grow up every day. She looked at him, promising she would dedicate herself to do everything best for him…… He turned back out of the monochrome images, that day again. Glancing outside once more, he went in to change his clothes. As he was passing by the mirror, he caught himself in it. Stopped and looked carefully. His hair, then somewhere among them white, but still attractive. His blue eyes, then somewhere around them lines, but still as deep as clean oceans and as fresh as the sky in spring…. His face going smaller and younger, he reminded his little child face. The only thing that hadn’t changed all that time was his eyes… Yes, they were still shining happily in his nice face. And the biggest difference between young and old Richard – needless to say, of course- was the experiences from life. He remembered his loves, anguishes, friends, students, neighbors…. He remembered his funny adventures, his exams, teachers, school years… He remembered some moments from his meaningful life. They all moved in front of his eyes, like a cinema film. With the phone ringing, the film stopped and all the stars were gone away… the magic disappeared. Seeing the name on the phone, it came back again… With her voice like a merry song, he filled full of happiness again… ‘Hey… I’m such euphoric today! Since you’re still with me..since I can still say ‘we’. Happy, happy birthday my love. Be sure your daisy will always look for the sunshine with you. Actually, she’ll never need for a sun while having you around! You’re my life spring !!! Thank you for everything….’ He stood up for a while, saying nothing…. He was sure his life was good enough for him…and with her it would last so…

After working for more than forty years, when Mr. Wood retired, he decided to have a rest. Far away from the noise and tumult of the city, he dreamed of a pretty house in the country, with a big garden where he could grow his own vegetables and trees , which would help him relax for the rest of his life. His wife, Mrs. Wood, agreed when he told her his idea. They searched for three weeks before they found a big, excellent, stone house in a quiet place, just like he fancied, with its garden and appearance. He thought it was where they would live perfectly and close their eyes in peace. The old house appeared to have had no care for a long time so they worked a lot to clean it up. Two weeks later, they moved in. And after working for four days, finally, they rested in the well-furnished house and had a normal life. As Mr. Wood toiled in the garden, Mrs. Wood prepared delicious meals for her dear husband, with the fresh vegetables he picked. Everything was just perfect. However,in the garden near their bedroom was a huge tree with long branches touching the window. Because of it, they heard screechy sounds. So that afternoon, Mr. Wood decided to cut the long top branches so that they would have a quiet night, maybe only softly-blowing wind would whistle outside. And so did he. That night he hoped to sleep well before falling asleep. However, at the middle of the night, his wife's prodding woke him. She whispered that there was a knock on the window. He said she must have been in a dream. But when he listened carefully, there, on the window was really a knock. And it was becoming stronger and louder. Feeling cold, they both shook. Mrs. Wood was the first who spoke, getting calmer, she said it must have been the tree making that noise. Just before Mr. Wood tried to tell his wife he had cut down the branches and so it was impossible for them reach the window, she had already pulled back the curtains. Then she screamed. And they both stood like a cold stone. Outside was an old man with a waxy skin, sad and black eyes, a tired face and long white hair moving in the wind. Mr. Wood stared at his wife, eyes wide, breath locked in his chest. With a racing heart, he grabbed her hand and pulled her downstairs. They spent the night there. When the first lights of the day shone through the house, they woke up, feeling uncomfortable as they had slept on the chairs. They looked each other, and before saying even a word, they heard a knock on the door. Mrs. Wood started to shake again. She seemed very pale. But Mr. Wood was angry then, standing up, he opened the door. A well-dressed old lady wastood outside, holding a plate full of cookies in her hands. She said she was their neighbor living down the road, adding she wanted to say ‘welcome’ to them.
Mr. Wood looked at her stupidly. It was Mrs. Wood who pushed him away and took the lady in. After introducing, Mr. and Mrs. Wood apologized for their weird behaviors. They started to tell the story.
While listening, the woman seemed curious about the man. When they described his appearance , a teardrop fell down from her cheeks. Mr. and Mrs. Wood were shocked again. After a minute, the lady started talking: ‘That man was the servant of the house. The owner of it was a rich man and pleased with his faithful servant who he had spent many years with. Unfortunately, one night, a thief broke into the house and killed the rich man. He ran away, taking all the expensive things and the money in the house. On the morning, when his servant found his cold bloody dead body in the bed, he called the police. But what a pity that nobody believed him. he was accused of the murder.’ The old lady took a deep breath then. Another tear dropped down, she went on. ‘That servant was my lover. And I’m damned sure that he can’t have done such a thing to his beloved sir.’ Mr. and Mrs. Wood felt sorry for that poor man. They asked why he came that night. The woman continued talking: ‘As he was blamed for the murder, they decided to hang him on a branch of that tree. And yesterday was the anniversary of his death.' Mr. and Mrs. Wood were cold and dizzy. Finally Mrs. Wood cried, asking ‘What the hell does he want from us?’. The lady thought for a while. She was connecting to her dead lover. Then she answered in an old man’s voice, with her eyes turned into black: ‘I want you to heed my screams and help. I’m innocence. I want you to save me from the darkness of this wrong decision. I won’t let you have a quiet night until I’m not notorious anymore! And then, my blood will move away from the roots of the tree and my soul will leave you in peace…. ‘

Thirsty Flower

She looked at the green leaves of the flower she had been given about half an hour ago. It all had happened so quickly. Before even saying okay or no, that old woman had already left this flower to her. She couldn’t do anything for a while, looking after the old woman. Then she turned her head to the flower in her hands, thinking what the hell had happened in minutes. She went back in her mind, minutes ago...she was sitting on the bank, looking at the blue sky and the shining sun above. She didn’t know if she was happy or not then. Something quaint was disturbing inside. She ascribed it to her exam. Maybe she would fail, as she always hated physics. Then she looked around to watch the hurried people from a corner to another , to catch the ship or the bus. In this boiling heat of the summer, all these seemed so tiresome and silly to her. Then she saw an old woman with grey hair and very pale skin. She was coming to her. When she was in front of her, she stood for a while, looking at her deeply . She gave the flower to her lap, saying : ‘keep it well...it is valuable for me...’ All she said was these eight words... Then she was gone through the people.... Who was she? What was this flower? Why was it so valuable to her? And why was it ‘she’ to keep this valuable flower? Was this a joke? Instead of getting answers to all these infernal questions , she drowned into them. When she got rid of her stupid-looking, she thought to throw the flower away. Who would care of a strange flower which was brought by a stranger, telling to keep it well, because it was important for HER!!! What an absurdity!!! She stood up, leaving it on the bank and walked away.... but just before going even not two meters, she fell down... Her two palms were bleeding. She looked at the ground to see if there was any stone or other shit that had made her fall... But the ground was perfectly clean. She looked once more at her palms, which were holding the flower a second ago. She realised something, that she had to take it with her. So did she. After some couples of minutes, she thought that all these were illogical. Who would believe that she was punished, because she didn’t mind an old strange woman’s request? She went to a quiet place and threw the flower down on the ground. As the flowerpot fell into pieces and the flower was strewn around, her thoughts and anger about it went away. She turned the corner, taking a deep breath. But she had forgotten to look around to check if there was any car coming. A huge Land Rover crashed her wildly and flew her to the wall there. After hitting the wall, she finally fell down on the ground, getting the last stroke... she died with this three steps... the last thing she recognized before gliding up through the sky was the piece of the flowerpot and near it was a branch of the flower... She exhaled the breath she had taken in while turning that infernal corner, her last breath on the earth, when the roots of the flower started to suck her fresh and tasty blood, what it had fancied from the beginning ...

the Black Sea

The Turks, the genteel nation whose name has been on the pages of the history for more than three thousand years….and Turkey(also called Anatolia), the precious land that Turks have ruled for about a thousand year.
Since, the Turks, we, and Turkey, our home, have a very long and old history, our culture is also extensive and noble. Settling in the middle of Asia and Europe, Turkey gathers every kind of cultures. While traveling from north to south or west to east, you can clearly recognize the differences… differences of life styles, livelihoods, foods, clothes and even sometimes the materials used for buildings. For example, in the Blacksea side, houses are wooden, but when you go to the East, you’ll see stone and clay ones. However, none of these ways are completely diverse from the general qualifications of the Turks. Various ways and styles but all reaching same points.
All the time of our history, we have been known for our hospitality and friendliness. We have been also known as good cooks. With delicious tastes addressing to every gusto, Turkish cuisine is already in a high position on the list of world’s cuisines. Almost every city has got a special meal or original ways of cooking. As I said, Turkey’s like a puzzle, you can draw lines between cities and their cultures, but they’re nothing alone, since they’re needed for completing the whole.
Like the styles of foods showing differences depending on place by place, our taste of music is also changeable. We have lots of kind of traditional music. As Turkey has seven regions, the Marmara, the Blacksea, the Mediterranean, the Aegean, the Middle Anatolia, the East Anatolia and the South-East Anatolia, we can count seven main kinds of music.
Starting with the Blacksea, we hear the sound of ‘tulum’ ( a special instrument of the Blacksea) and ‘kemençe’ (another special one, also called kemancha in English). On the whole, the Blacksea music is fast-rhythmed, that’s why people start to dance the ‘horon’ ( a folk dance of the Blacksea coastal region) While dancing, they wear some special funny costumes. For men, black trousers, a black waistcoat, black high-topped boots, a white shirt and a black cap. For women, colorful costumes with ‘peştemal’s. (cloth wrapped about the waist, usually colored in claret red, white and navy blue) Also they use some gold coins as a necklace. The lyrics of the region music are generally about love between two people, a lover suffering from his darling’s reluctance torturing him, or another one extolling his darling, a girl complaining about her casanova boy. And so on… Nonetheless, sometimes words don’t suffice for the human feelings, then only the rhythms of ‘tulum’ and ‘kemençe’ echoes among the high and steep mountains of the Blacksea. This time is when you feel the murky and melancholy air of it....
The people in the Blacksea part, whose livelihoods are, ninety per cent, from the sea, cook traditional meals with sea-products, specially with anchovy(tiny fishes, called ‘hamsi’ in Turkish). Bread, pilaf (rice cooked), or deserts with anchovy….They also use genuine Blacksea butter and cheese for meals.

As for something about history, like aforementioned qualifications of Turkey own, the Blacksea’s history is also old, too, as well as any other regions. You can easily see the original and unspoiled culture, as people here are still aware of its value. They still wear traditionally, talk traditionally, cook traditionally, and live traditionally. If you go to the Blacksea side, you’ll be gracefully welcomed, since they were told by their fathers that ‘a guest is a gift from God’. And again as a traditional common thing, but this time it’s out of date, the women generally don’t work, they don’t have any jobs like a doctor, teacher, nurse..or something… Because the most majority of them are not educated at university. Today it looks very silly. So by day by, they are changing their minds and fathers let their girls go to university now. Since we need to keep in step with time, even we face to change our old customs. However, that doesn’t mean that women sit in the house all the day, on the contrary, the Blacksea women are known as hardworking and proficient. They work in the yields of tea, corn or collard…
And …lastly… the traditional Blacksea festivals. They’re celebrated in summer on mountain pastures. Thousands of people from every part of Turkey come to join these festivals. Most of people wear ‘horon’ costumes, as they dance it. It’s really funny to see thousands dancing the ‘horon’ in a very very long line on the green endless land of mountain pastures. The sound of ‘kemençe’ and ‘tulum’ is heard only, and you let yourself go with the rhythm, starting to take steps regularly and shake your shoulders. The festivals generally last for a month.
All these lines were some basic information about the culture of the Blacksea to give you an impression. Needless to say, you should go see and breathe the air there. Why Blacksea? Because it’s my village, my region. But I would also be pleased, as well, to tell you about any other valuable region of my country another time, if you will…. :)

Another year has flown away..To me, it meant both sadness and happiness. As it was life own, was a part of my life...2009,when I met my 18th birth year, in which I developed from being a child into an adult and came of age.(at least, that’s what science and laws say)

Now, these days, we have just embraced the year ‘2010’. I can see new shinny hopes in people’s eyes. For ages, people always desire fabulous things for new years. As we , humans, never incline to be satisfied with what we have. It’s good to have some purposes ... But it’s really bad when we all get blind , surrounded by them ... Without even living the beauties of today and enjoying it all, we drown in the hurry of life, for our tomorrows !!! No...that’s not for me... I like living my day with every kind of things and different feelings -as I think, working stupidly just for tomorrow makes life monochrome, with no piece of human feelings, and also monotone- but when the day finishes, I like putting my head on my pillow, thinking about no worry of tomorrow... I know, unfortunately, we all have some problems, all kinds of things for tomorrow, nagging us even days and days before... But generally , I do try to control my thoughts in case they run after tomorrow, leaving me all alone with the rest of the day and a stupid, empty brain :)

According to the things I have babbled up to now, I have no serious plan for the new year. I prefer instant arrangements ... So ,in that way, I can find an opportunity to make someone a surprise or receive unexpected things. However, I’m not a one who has no aim from life or who thinks, without knowing how many years left, working and trying to built something is silly. On the contrary, I do have some expectations... And of course, I have a ‘to do’ list :) For my nearest future, 2010, passing my prep. School, I want to start my own department and be very good at software engineering. Maybe in the summer, I can go abroad to practise my English and also to work. Generally , these two are the ones I hope to happen this year. Simply, I like my life and enjoy it. I like every people I have in my life... For them, I also wish happiness, no doubt that seeing them happy will make me happy, too ...

It seems, I’m gonna live my life as usual, and especially after 2009, it’ll get better and better (for some reasons:))

So...my last words ...With every taste of real life, Welcome 2010 !!! :)

SAYING GOOD-BYE TO HIGH SCHOOL
Coming to an end of a journey of four years at high school, I was a bit upset. I could remember the first day there with every details. And then all these withered away very quickly, however, I knew I would always cherish the beautiful memories in my heart. Anyway here was the big day of my graduation, a sad end which also means a hopeful and bright beginning for university. (at least, we all wished it to be so ) I got up late that morning with no hurry and point of excitement. I had planned to go to a coiffeur before, but I didn’t have any urge to go make my hair exaggeratedly elegant and wear too much make-up then. I thought I could do something pretty by myself. Being not hasty, I took a shower and dressed in my black skirt and white shirt, these two were decided by the school, so we didn’t have a chance to choose what to wear, which was completely an absurdity. Then I dried my hair, but unfortunately it seemed very stubborn to have any piece of grace, it was just fuzzy and untidy. Deciding to have it done at school, I left home. Some of girls had already arrived, in the garden were beautiful girls who had dolled themselves up in gaudy clothes, surprisingly they could make white and black extraordinary, with high-heel shoes, which I strongly refuse to wear, instead, I preferred my black sports. I thought it would be a difficult night. It began with a disappointment caused by my hair. Neither me nor my friends managed to do it, although the ceremony was about to start. Finally I backed down and let them go down on my shoulders to my back, which gave me a natural look that seemed a bit weird in all these shinny girls. Anyway … After a while, when the music was played, we, students, were ready in two lines to walk gracefully to our sits. We passed through the multitude of our parents. That time was the one I became excited and it downed on me that I had my last chance to enjoy this atmosphere with all my friends by my side and my family looking at me with great pride in their eyes. After our walk, we sit down and listened quietly to some teachers and other students, telling about the importance of the moment we had. I could feel the eyes on us, as we sit just in the middle of the garden. When the speeches, which seemed to continue forever, were done, we threw our caps up in the air. So we came to the end of the formal ceremony. Then started our real fun. We changed our black and white clothes and worn as we wanted. This time I was in a white dress which was not very chic but was charming , with my pretty white moccasins. The rest of the night was quite enjoyable, pleasant and funny. We danced as much as we could, laughing and talking freely. We took some photos and recorded a video during the night. However, all I got from them is a disappointment. (I always hate posing….lol…) Anyway… Luckily, I have my own good shots in my mind, which will be kept fresh and safe as long as I live. And which will bring a big smile on my face whenever I remember them… :) :) :)