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
Vultures Circling Over an Old Man
- 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 (Mid-Afternoon, Day 11)
When I left the hotel, it was around mid-afternoon. On the way out, I saw the English author at reception. She was checking out with a large group that was leaving Istanbul on the Orient Express. She smiled when she saw me. I even think she was going to stop to talk to me and ask me how I was, after having heard my screams the other night, but I was in no state to converse or explain what had happened and so I gave her a simple but courteous greeting and made for the door.
Outside, a restrained sun was gently, almost bashfully, warming up the city. The suffocating heat of yesterday had gone and a cool breeze was waltzing through the streets. The autumn we know so well had arrived. As is my habit, I looked around to see if anyone was watching me but there was no one. I suppose it is only expected that they would stop following me, seeing as I'll soon be working for them.
I picked up speed, despite the heady, lethargy-inducing sweetness of the weather. Mehmed Esad and I had not agreed upon a time but he had said something along the lines of afternoon, which meant I needed to walk a little faster if I was not to be late. As I was hurrying past the entrance of the Karlmann Arcade, which looks out on to the Tepebaşı Gardens, I bumped into someone. He was a small fellow and fell tumbling to the ground when we collided, the poor thing. It was my fault. I was in such a hurry, and so needlessly too, that I had not seen him coming out.
‘I do apologise’, I said, reaching out to help him up. ‘I didn't mean it’.
The man stared at me.
‘Şehsuvar…? Is that you?’
I remembered him now: the voice, the face, the look in his eye. It was an old classmate from high school.
‘Arşak…? Wow! It is you!’
He grabbed my hand, got up and we embraced. He then looked me up and down.
‘You've aged’, he said, genuinely sad. ‘But then I suppose I've aged even more’.
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- Information
- Farewell, My Beautiful Homeland , pp. 479 - 494Publisher: Anthem PressPrint publication year: 2019