what is in a name?
he guessed that my name is of Turkish origin, which I think is impressive. however, it did strike my mind that he could have googled it, of course, as he appears to be driven by curiosity and a compulsion for facts. but you can say that I choose to believe, at least for now, that he already knew.
your name is often a reflection of you as a person; it could be considered a result of your inheritance as in your cultural- and religious background or even your parents’ political views. in my case my name was given me because of its rarity at the time I was born.
when my best friend and I talk about the names of our future children (she recently got married and is dying to become a mother), I find myself thinking about names that can easily and beautifully be pronounced in Norwegian, Turkish and English. a secular definition is also on my priority list, or at least one that it is not an accurate sign of a religious background.
what is in his name, I wonder.
Nisanlar akiyor ellerinden
Ve gögsünden
Yagmurlari giyinmis bir adam cikariyorsun
Ellerinden nisanlar akan bir dervis
Kopuyor ´ulu hece´
Ask!
Zehirden irmak
Seyleri isitiyor, yüzleri
Kelimeleri
Ruhlari ve.
Ugultular cikararak gidiyorsun kardesim
Dünyaya resimler birakarak gidecegiz hepimiz de
Kücük kizlara menekseler
Ogullara sevda siirleri
Ya halayiklar
Halayiklara perisan bahar ülkesi.
Nasil olsa kan sicramis gözlerinin irmaklarina
Kütür kütür sesi siirin
Sucluyu bulacaklar
Bulacaklar güzelligimize asik taslari da.
Egilip
Öpüyorsun geceyi en mavi yerinden
Yagmurlardan bir elbise giydiriyorsun bana da
Kimsenin bilmedigi
Isiyan!
Karanlik kösesinde ruhumun.
Bulacaklar diyorum kardesim
Nasil olsa sucluyu nisanlarda bulacaklar
Güzelligimize asik taslari da…
Ismail Karakurt
kaada
his music makes you dream about how the past could/should have been. it makes you sad, but also happy, cuz now you can see it all clearly as it has never been before. not even when the incidents were present. some people would say that’s the sad part of it, but not I. I like to see the pieces fall into places.
—–
strange little incidents
I guess I have to “badden” up my image, he said. right after I told him that he seems so nice.
auch, I shouldn’t have said that. big mistake!
no man wants to be called nice. I get that. but I had a crush on him, so what was I supposed to say? “you are SO hot you make me want to move into your bed”? besides, I am shy. and I truly needed, and still need, to fall for a nice guy, not a bad one. that could be why I prefer to live in my imaginary safety place, my beloved bubble, these days; that way I don’t meet the bad guys.hm.
isn’t it strange that it all comes back to you once in a while? even the strange, little incidents that happened so long ago.
this one puts a happy smile on my face, though. I’m hopeless. hihi.
Change & Death
Change and death are two of the very few certain things I know of.
In order to obtain some stability I try to change my philosophy on life, which has been slightly… (What can I say? I don’t even have a word for it.)
…slightly confusing the past few years? (Yes, I think that’s it.)
First things first, I think now.
In contrary of my disillusioned, confusing and aimlessly drifting life (at least nowadays), my friends have their feet on the ground. A friend of mine recently wrote about how much she is fascinated by the bohemians, but that she could never be one although she shares their philosophy on life.
Well, I am stuck in the middle. Which isn’t a surprise, as my life is all about being in the middle of everything, in one way or the other. I have learned to appreciate the perspective that comes along with it and all I know is that even if you do not want things to change, they will. So why not seek the changes instead of accepting the ones that are made for you…?
Yes, why not?
somewhere the lost ones meet the easy going ones
one day last summer anne, her dog lotta and I were hanging out in a park in oslo. sometime during the evening an american couple walked towards us and the guy said “you have a smile that lights up the entire sidewalk!”. I felt a bit embarrassed. “thank you!”…I burst out and couldn’t help smiling. anne and I had a good laugh and talked about the fact that a norwegian guy would never say such a thing in the middle of a park.
anne is moving to california in january. I think california does something to you, it makes you relaxed and easy going. my first boss, in a company I used to work in, went to berkeley and I remember he was a pretty easy going dude (not when he was wearing a suit and acting like a director though). I loved having a beer and talking about politics and literature with him. his intelligence was such an inspiration and I couldn’t help feeling an admiration, just like how a kid sister supposedly feels for her older brother. I hope he is happy in san francisco.
I should move somewhere, too, somewhere the lost ones meet each other.
or even better; I should move somewhere the lost ones meet the easy going ones.
You don’t always…
…win your battles, but it’s good to learn why! Braindead people think they win all the time. Stupid people think they lost. Clever people take advantage of both.
kr
the prison of our soul
what do you do when you watch a movie like the fountain, feel the greatness (and the madness) and all you can think of is how empty your own bubble of escapes seems? everyone runs towards love and every indication of what love could be; while you (unintentionally) run away and try to ease your emptiness by telling yourself (over and over again) that you are at least protected from the one thing that has the capacity to break you down, because you have (unintentionally) promised yourself to never leave the land of blindness.
that is what you have become. blind. unable to see. and to notice. your eyes discover every color, every shape, every shade, every move, every motion. but not a man who has the power to drag you out and up to the surface again. your ears hear every beautiful detail in a melody. but not a mans words of affection.
you go on pretending. pretending like there is no history, although you carry every piece of it in your soul (unlike some people, you cling on to the belief in the existence of it). you have chosen to forget, to leave it behind, because there was a time you promised yourself to never choose that path again once you did manage to forget and leave it behind.
then you watch a movie like the fountain (you have lost the count of times you have seen it) and you feel the greatness and an indication to what love could be. you see a man whose love has driven him to madness and an eternal search for the fountain of immortality.
it’s all done except the last chapter. I want you to help me. finish it.
izzi creo
this is how Turkey used to be…
History of the Turkish Jews
By Naim Guleryuz
Foreword
On the midnight of August 2nd 1492, when Colombus embarked on what would become his most famous expedition to the New World, his fleet departed from the relatively unknown seaport of Palos because the shipping lanes of Cadiz and Seville were clogged with Sephardic Jews expelled from Spain by the Edict of Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand of Spain.
The Jews forced either to convert to Christianism or to “leave” the country under menace “they dare not return… not so much as to take a step on them not trepass upon them in any manner whatsoever” left their land, their property, their belongings all that was theirs and familiar to them rather than abadon their beliefs, their traditions, their heritage.
In the faraway Ottoman Empire, one ruler extended an immediate welcome to the persecuted Jews of Spain, the Sepharadim. He was the Sultan Bayazid II.
As we approach 1992, the Discovery year for all those connected to the American continents North, Central and South world Jewry is concerned with commemorating not only the expulsion, but also seven centuries of the Jewish life in Spain, flourishing under Moslem rule, and the 500th anniversary of the official welcome extended by the Ottoman Empire in 1492.
This humanitarianism is consistent with the beneficence and goodwill traditionally displayed by the Turkish government and people towards those of different creeds, cultures and backgrounds. Indeed, Turkey could serve as a model to be emulated by any nation which finds refugees from any of the four corners of the world standing at its doors.
In 1992, Turkish Jewry will celebrate not only the anniversary of this gracious welcome, but also the remarkable spirit of tolerance and acceptance which has characterized the whole Jewish experience in Turkey. The events being planned, symposiums, conferences, concerts, exhibitions, films and books, restoration of ancient Synagogues etc will commemorate the longevity and prosperity of the Jewish community. As a whole, the celebration aims to demonstrate the richness and security of life Jews have found in the Ottoman Empire and the Turkish Republic over these morethanfive centuries, and show that indeed it is not impossible for people of different creeds to live together peacefully under one flag.
