Book contents
- Frontmatter
- Dedication
- Contents
- Death Begins with the Loss of Our Cities…
- Are You Going to Be a Killer?
- An Idea Whose Time Has Come
- Your Decision
- Dogs Smelling Blood on a Hunt
- The Meaning of This Empire for Us
- Confronting Death
- The Ancient Wound
- The Essence of the State
- Becoming the Hunted
- Like Two Wistful Flowers
- The World's Greatest Mystery
- The Love That Will Never Fade
- What Does a Single Individual Matter?
- A Game of Revenge
- The Motherland Is Lost
- The Only Thing Keeping Me Alive
- No Intention of Surrendering
- A Man's Word Is His Honour
- An Inappropriate Sense of Compassion
- A Token of a Conversation
- I Am Not the One to Decide
- Miracles
- The Ability to Forgive Ourselves
- Losing One's Humanity
- No Choice But to Fight
- Give Me an Honourable Death
- The Walking Dead
- Save Yourself, Soldier
- Wishing for Help from the Dead
- Resign, Your Excellency!
- A False Sense of Security
- The True Power in the Land
- Betrothed to Life, Married to Death
- When the Wolf Dies in the Forest
- This Is Not Ankara
- Vultures Circling Over an Old Man
- Ignoble Alliances
- A Betrayal of Their Own History
- Fighting for a Lost Cause
- Evil Stalks This Land
- A Malevolent Rain
- A Fragmented Homeland, a Disintegrating World
- Turning Us All into Killers
- When I Began Losing My Country
- Farewell, My Beautiful Homeland
- Glossary
The Only Thing Keeping Me Alive
- Frontmatter
- Dedication
- Contents
- Death Begins with the Loss of Our Cities…
- Are You Going to Be a Killer?
- An Idea Whose Time Has Come
- Your Decision
- Dogs Smelling Blood on a Hunt
- The Meaning of This Empire for Us
- Confronting Death
- The Ancient Wound
- The Essence of the State
- Becoming the Hunted
- Like Two Wistful Flowers
- The World's Greatest Mystery
- The Love That Will Never Fade
- What Does a Single Individual Matter?
- A Game of Revenge
- The Motherland Is Lost
- The Only Thing Keeping Me Alive
- No Intention of Surrendering
- A Man's Word Is His Honour
- An Inappropriate Sense of Compassion
- A Token of a Conversation
- I Am Not the One to Decide
- Miracles
- The Ability to Forgive Ourselves
- Losing One's Humanity
- No Choice But to Fight
- Give Me an Honourable Death
- The Walking Dead
- Save Yourself, Soldier
- Wishing for Help from the Dead
- Resign, Your Excellency!
- A False Sense of Security
- The True Power in the Land
- Betrothed to Life, Married to Death
- When the Wolf Dies in the Forest
- This Is Not Ankara
- Vultures Circling Over an Old Man
- Ignoble Alliances
- A Betrayal of Their Own History
- Fighting for a Lost Cause
- Evil Stalks This Land
- A Malevolent Rain
- A Fragmented Homeland, a Disintegrating World
- Turning Us All into Killers
- When I Began Losing My Country
- Farewell, My Beautiful Homeland
- Glossary
Summary
Hello Ester (Morning, Day 6)
I woke up early this morning, before sunrise. I had a terrible headache, possibly because of last night's wine, although I doubt it as it was a fine wine and I hadn't really drunk that much anyway. Perhaps it was because I stayed up late writing to you because I could also feel my eyes stinging when I woke up. But more important was the fact that as I wrote, I remembered and relived those days. In one's youth, one can withstand the most trying and terrible events – war, revolution, assassinations and death – but now simply thinking about them is an ordeal for me. It seems I am still reeling from my writing, which perhaps explains the patchy, disjointed dreams I kept having last night. The past is not just a collection of memories but our very lives, nourished by the present and staying with us till we breathe our last. Yes, I know that those without a past have neither a present nor freedom but I often wish I did not have the past that I have. I often, to myself, quietly wish I had not experienced the pain and the torments that I have, that I had not lived the life I have, and last night, I felt those same pangs of regret again. But one must not surrender. One must not give up. No matter how hard it is, or how distressing, I will keep on writing to you, and I won't stop, not until they finally kill me or lock me up to rot in a cell. I shall keep on writing down my memories, even though I know you may never read any of these letters and that you may simply rip them up without even bothering to open them.
The only thing keeping me alive is the need to write to you. And that is why, like an athlete readying himself for competition, I do not have the luxury of relaxing. I cannot and must not be discouraged by headaches, stomachaches or weariness. That is the attitude with which I woke up this morning. I had a glass of water, which helped refresh me, but I still did not feel like going downstairs so I had breakfast sent up to my room.
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- Information
- Farewell, My Beautiful Homeland , pp. 197 - 210Publisher: Anthem PressPrint publication year: 2019