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
Save Yourself, Soldier
- 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 9)
I wrote all night, until dawn, until my fingers began to ache and my eyes began to sting. When I finished, I did not go to sleep. I felt strangely awake and alert. They say the best form of thinking is writing, and they must have been right. Writing is the best method of clarifying not just the past but the events of today too. My mind, free from the chaos of likelihoods and possibilities, was now beginning to see things much more clearly. When I went out on to the balcony, I was greeted by a spectacular autumn morning. Yesterday's rain had left behind a little coolness before vanishing from the city and I felt an unbearable urge to go out and wander the streets… To wander the deserted streets and walk by the closed shops while everyone was still asleep or only just waking up… I got changed and walked out of the hotel.
There was nobody around. On the corner of Asmalı Mescit Street, two night watchmen, approaching the end of their shift, yawned languidly. As I made my way around the narrow streets, I greeted some shopkeepers opening up their premises eager to catch the early bird. I stopped in front of a restaurant run by a Viennese couple to say a few words to a stray dog with beautiful eyes as it stretched out lazily and waited for a bone to be thrown its way. He didn't mind my stopping to talk and wagged his tail listlessly in reply. It reminded me of the Kangal dog I saw yesterday; he hadn't minded me much either. I must have some kind of effect on dogs as they clearly don't see me as someone to take seriously.
When I turned left at the Cadde-i Kebir, my nose picked up a lovely aroma. A few steps later, I realised where it was coming from: the Lebon Patisserie. Were they actually open this early? No. The shop was not open to customers but the bakers must have long since started work, baking the world's most sumptuous cakes and pastries, many of which I remember well from my days as a student at the Imperial High School. As I walked through the Aynalı Pasaj arcade of shops, the path opened out and people emerged.
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- Farewell, My Beautiful Homeland , pp. 361 - 374Publisher: Anthem PressPrint publication year: 2019