The traveler is not allowed to fall in Love….because he is already a
Lover. Once a friend visiting me from abroad just before his departure
wrote a letter that “ by making every other Heart your home; this Love
will divide you”. May be he had a different understanding of Love,
otherwise Love is Unity……it never divides you. It fades away all the
divisions humanity suffers from the limited vision and knowledge. I was
feeling united with the beloved Turk friends in that old Ottoman
atmosphere. And I had no reason to fall in love with the old care taker
of that building, respected Aziz Bey.
Aziz Bey brought the tray of “Turkish Chaye”….the only thing I appreciate of crown is Tea with Milk….all the other tradition of drinking tea seems very poor to me… I remember once an air hostess asked “ Tea or Coffee”.. “ Tea” please…. How much Sugar? And with a smiling face my reply was; “ I am sweet enough, No sugar.” She smiled back at me and gave me a cup with black tea.. I said to her; “ I said , I am sweet enough; not white enough, please put some milk in it.” And during all flight time she served me with the tea and snacks….. Turks can keep on drinking tea 24/7, its same with the people of high altitudes…but with someone coming from deserts of “ Rohi” ( Cholistan), no matter if he is known for his horrible intake of Tea….the black tea is something which is not for me. Doodh Pati ki baat hi khuch aur hai….mujhe to separate tea bhi badi impotent si lagti hai..
Aziz Bey keeps flower in his front pocket….which reminded me of Bektashi Wali “ Gul Baba”; who always kept a rose in his hands…. Gul Baba’s Mazar is in Budapest , Hungary. Gul Baba was serving the tea…..which made the black tea a sacred cup carrying the divine love…and I was unable to refuse him from bringing the new cup after each cup I drunk….and when I requested him for a picture; he placed his hand on my shoulder reciting the Benediction( Darood Shairf) in praise of Rasool Allah…… Ya Mustafa, Nurul Hudda , Saani tera koi nehin…..and as if he transferred that to me…and it started not only my tongue but also my heart….
After the music rehearsal we were planning to visit “ Eyup Sultan”( Hazrat Abu Ayub Ansari r.a shrine); but than heard that the shrine is closed for the renovation. So with Omer Bey and Karim Bey ( Bey means Brother or as we say Bhai), went to pay visit to Hazrat Aziz Ahmed Hudayi. Omer Bey grew up in this neighborhood, and his mothers house is still there. And from there went to the downtown Uskudar for the early dinner, with the typical Black sea cuisine. It was there when Omer suggested to go to Buyukada Island. This is the Island near Istanbul, the name means “ Big Island”… I didn’t know at that time what was waiting for me at Buyukada. Karim had his own boat, and it took us 40 minutes to reach Buyukada.
The only vehicles which are allowed on the Island is either bicycle or the Horse Buggy. Instead of taking Buggy, I preferred the bicycle; and my old friends had a buggy ride up to the famous Hamidiye mosque. It was like some place where you deliberately wants to get lost….where you want to be alone, where the winds caresses you…and whispers in your ear…….i am there…I don’t know it was the wind or someone….i was in this continuous feeling that some one was out there…Who it can be? My body and mind never plays this with me, when it happens I know for sure that there is something…but this time it was not something but Some One….Sehar……. Magic.
It was a small shop and a café, where I stopped to get a bottle of water. Buyukada is not a flat island but a steep. “ Bir Su” One bottle of water please…! There was no one in the shop…I shouted again. The back door opens and she entered in the shop with a scarf on her head…..she was as beautiful as I saw her on the first day some15 years ago in Central Asia…..Seher Tuncer….. Both of us were speechless….we were just looking into each others eyes….they eyes were taking us back into the time…when we were quite young…..oh youth is something….the time when we use to wait for hours to get the same bus back to city from our campus…..the time when she will bring the food for me …..the time when we didn’t know how to express our feelings….the time when the love was so innocent…..the time which went out like a flash……oh some 15 years…..
We studied together in central asia, both of us were learning the russian language. She was a not a tall girl, so she couldn’t hold the rods of the bus to stand, she would always grab my arm in the trolly bus.. I was very shy to express my feelings to her…… I use to repeat Moulana Rumis verse…Zuban-e-Yaar man Turkey, wa Man Turkey Nami Danam…and she would not understand even that much Persian….. And then one day I lost her….i heard from other friends of her, that she moved to Germany with her brother Ayedin Tuncer… but here she was in front of me. Was it a dream? am I on some magic Island??? It was already dark out there…and then Moazin started reciting the Aazan “ Allah o Akbar !”……
She took the 50 Turkish Lira note from my hand….putted back into my pocket…and then held my chin and closed my open jaws….. “ You didn’t change Asim”. No its not dream you are in ….I am Seher..as you once wrote down in my note book “ You are Magic”. And before I could say anything she just hugged me, and kissed my cheek…I could see the happiness from her twinkling eyes…I couldn’t move…it was all happening there….but for some reason I was kind of hypnotized….something in my brain was reluctant to accept the reality…she held me from my arm and made me sit on the chair. “What are you staring at”..Her English was sweeter than the Persian and Saraiki…. Sit I am about to close the shop…and yes here is water…..
My brains went all blank……I couldn’t spot time nor the space….and no feelings too…it was a wonder…still a lot to digest and swallow …. It was not a dream…nor was I awake. I could easily recall that I came to this Island with friends, they left on the buggy and I rented the bicycle and was following them..we were to meet at Hamidiye mosque. Now where I was ?? Closing the shop didn’t take lot of time. And again she was standing there….with a red headscarf….do you mind if I close the shop, or do you need anything else? I didn’t utter any word and instead came out of the shop…..the wind was again whispering into my ears…be careful I am magic…… Can you hold my bag, so I can lock the shop….my head was spinning as it was some old wine and not water in the bottle….. to be continued…
Aziz Bey brought the tray of “Turkish Chaye”….the only thing I appreciate of crown is Tea with Milk….all the other tradition of drinking tea seems very poor to me… I remember once an air hostess asked “ Tea or Coffee”.. “ Tea” please…. How much Sugar? And with a smiling face my reply was; “ I am sweet enough, No sugar.” She smiled back at me and gave me a cup with black tea.. I said to her; “ I said , I am sweet enough; not white enough, please put some milk in it.” And during all flight time she served me with the tea and snacks….. Turks can keep on drinking tea 24/7, its same with the people of high altitudes…but with someone coming from deserts of “ Rohi” ( Cholistan), no matter if he is known for his horrible intake of Tea….the black tea is something which is not for me. Doodh Pati ki baat hi khuch aur hai….mujhe to separate tea bhi badi impotent si lagti hai..
Aziz Bey keeps flower in his front pocket….which reminded me of Bektashi Wali “ Gul Baba”; who always kept a rose in his hands…. Gul Baba’s Mazar is in Budapest , Hungary. Gul Baba was serving the tea…..which made the black tea a sacred cup carrying the divine love…and I was unable to refuse him from bringing the new cup after each cup I drunk….and when I requested him for a picture; he placed his hand on my shoulder reciting the Benediction( Darood Shairf) in praise of Rasool Allah…… Ya Mustafa, Nurul Hudda , Saani tera koi nehin…..and as if he transferred that to me…and it started not only my tongue but also my heart….
After the music rehearsal we were planning to visit “ Eyup Sultan”( Hazrat Abu Ayub Ansari r.a shrine); but than heard that the shrine is closed for the renovation. So with Omer Bey and Karim Bey ( Bey means Brother or as we say Bhai), went to pay visit to Hazrat Aziz Ahmed Hudayi. Omer Bey grew up in this neighborhood, and his mothers house is still there. And from there went to the downtown Uskudar for the early dinner, with the typical Black sea cuisine. It was there when Omer suggested to go to Buyukada Island. This is the Island near Istanbul, the name means “ Big Island”… I didn’t know at that time what was waiting for me at Buyukada. Karim had his own boat, and it took us 40 minutes to reach Buyukada.
The only vehicles which are allowed on the Island is either bicycle or the Horse Buggy. Instead of taking Buggy, I preferred the bicycle; and my old friends had a buggy ride up to the famous Hamidiye mosque. It was like some place where you deliberately wants to get lost….where you want to be alone, where the winds caresses you…and whispers in your ear…….i am there…I don’t know it was the wind or someone….i was in this continuous feeling that some one was out there…Who it can be? My body and mind never plays this with me, when it happens I know for sure that there is something…but this time it was not something but Some One….Sehar……. Magic.
It was a small shop and a café, where I stopped to get a bottle of water. Buyukada is not a flat island but a steep. “ Bir Su” One bottle of water please…! There was no one in the shop…I shouted again. The back door opens and she entered in the shop with a scarf on her head…..she was as beautiful as I saw her on the first day some15 years ago in Central Asia…..Seher Tuncer….. Both of us were speechless….we were just looking into each others eyes….they eyes were taking us back into the time…when we were quite young…..oh youth is something….the time when we use to wait for hours to get the same bus back to city from our campus…..the time when she will bring the food for me …..the time when we didn’t know how to express our feelings….the time when the love was so innocent…..the time which went out like a flash……oh some 15 years…..
We studied together in central asia, both of us were learning the russian language. She was a not a tall girl, so she couldn’t hold the rods of the bus to stand, she would always grab my arm in the trolly bus.. I was very shy to express my feelings to her…… I use to repeat Moulana Rumis verse…Zuban-e-Yaar man Turkey, wa Man Turkey Nami Danam…and she would not understand even that much Persian….. And then one day I lost her….i heard from other friends of her, that she moved to Germany with her brother Ayedin Tuncer… but here she was in front of me. Was it a dream? am I on some magic Island??? It was already dark out there…and then Moazin started reciting the Aazan “ Allah o Akbar !”……
She took the 50 Turkish Lira note from my hand….putted back into my pocket…and then held my chin and closed my open jaws….. “ You didn’t change Asim”. No its not dream you are in ….I am Seher..as you once wrote down in my note book “ You are Magic”. And before I could say anything she just hugged me, and kissed my cheek…I could see the happiness from her twinkling eyes…I couldn’t move…it was all happening there….but for some reason I was kind of hypnotized….something in my brain was reluctant to accept the reality…she held me from my arm and made me sit on the chair. “What are you staring at”..Her English was sweeter than the Persian and Saraiki…. Sit I am about to close the shop…and yes here is water…..
My brains went all blank……I couldn’t spot time nor the space….and no feelings too…it was a wonder…still a lot to digest and swallow …. It was not a dream…nor was I awake. I could easily recall that I came to this Island with friends, they left on the buggy and I rented the bicycle and was following them..we were to meet at Hamidiye mosque. Now where I was ?? Closing the shop didn’t take lot of time. And again she was standing there….with a red headscarf….do you mind if I close the shop, or do you need anything else? I didn’t utter any word and instead came out of the shop…..the wind was again whispering into my ears…be careful I am magic…… Can you hold my bag, so I can lock the shop….my head was spinning as it was some old wine and not water in the bottle….. to be continued…
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