The Faculty of Academic English Program\u2019s \u00c7i\u011fdem and Hossein Dabir Awards for Excellence in Short Fiction were presented to three of the seven 2022 and 2023 recipients at a ceremony on February 9.
The award is intended for Bilkent students who display exceptional proficiency in the short fiction form. Current applicants were selected from ENG 312 \u2013 Introduction to Creative Writing through their submission of a single work of short fiction. The winners were ultimately decided by a committee composed of representatives from FAE, ELIT and COMD.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u00c7i\u011fdem and Hossein Dabir were lifelong advocates for creative expression and student achievement. Both generously contributed to the design and delivery of earlier forms of the ENG 312 course. \u00c7i\u011fdem\u2019s love for short fiction and Hossein\u2019s love for students formed the genesis of this award. Their passing, in 2015 and 2020 respectively, was a great loss to the Bilkent Community. This award, in remembrance of their grace, serves to honor their memory by providing Bilkent students the opportunity to be recognized and share their artistry with all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
During the ceremony, some of the award-winning students read brief excerpts from their short stories. The 2022 first-prize winner, Naz Nilsu Ayas, read a piece from her work, \u201cUnder the White Lilies,\u201d<\/a> and second-prize winner Deniz Hasanzaadeh from \u201cLamby.\u201d<\/a> Bora Avc\u0131, third-prize winner of 2023, read an excerpt from his story, \u201cThe Burnt.\u201d<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n In 2022, the third-prize winner was Khatri Abdul Hadi Ashraf with his story, \u201cMy Rock Friend.\u201d<\/a> The 2023 first-prize went to Cemal Ata\u015f for his story, \u201c101 Seconds.\u201d<\/a> The joint second-place holders in 2023 were Burak Ko\u00e7ak and Hamza Abdulla for their stories, \u201cSnow White\u201d<\/a> and \u201cCopper and Cast Iron,\u201d<\/a> respectively.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n UNDER THE WHITE LILIES<\/p>\n\n\n\n There were more flowers than Martin Blake could count. The place was majestic; the grass was green, greener than any grass he had seen before, and Martin had seen a lot of<\/em> grasses. The birds, robins if he was right, were chirping enchantingly. There were yew trees everywhere; their branches so mighty and dynamic that their green leaves almost touched the equally green grass. Gray stones were scattered around the field, some old looking and some new, stunning flowers decorating them. Silky black dresses were adorning the flawed skins of those who bothered to come; pearls were coiling around women\u2019s necklines, expensive watches swinging every time the men moved their arms, a few old women were wearing wide fascinators to shelter themselves from the burning gaze of the Sun, playing hide and seek with it, but the Sun, an experienced seeker, would always find them. One thing, however, could not flee from it: the shiny jet-black coffin. At least it looked black from Martin\u2019s perspective\/position.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n Everything was so picturesque and so exquisite that Martin could not comprehend why people were crying hysterically. He was too young, they said. Maybe he was young, but still, he did not think that it kept him from understanding the basics. People died, there was neither Heaven nor Hell, and life moved on. This was how it worked, and people needed to come to terms with it. Some, however, as he inferred, were strangers to death; today was their first-time shaking hands with it. From his view, he was able to see a child, around the age of six, using the hem of his mother\u2019s black dress to conceal himself from the curious gazes of those present and looking at the shiny cover of the coffin with terror in his dark eyes. It was apparent that the subject of death had never been discussed with him before, or maybe Martin was wrong. Maybe it was discussed, but witnessing something has always proved to be different than discussing it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n There, under the shadow of the yew tree closest to the coffin stood a family of three; the woman was distraught, the child just as terrified as the one Martin had been looking at, and the man seemed to be having an inner battle with himself to not shed any tears, but it was as clear as this beautiful day that he was losing it. He knew them; they were the Wilsons. Sarah Wilson was a firefighter, and it was apparent why she was crying frantically at the funeral. Then, there was Daniel who worked at their local high school as an English teacher, following in the footsteps of his father, Christopher Wilson, who taught both Martin and his brother. Martin regarded the man highly; he was the reason why Martin chose to become an academic after all. Their kid, he did not know much about. The more he observed them, the better he felt about having decided to not have a family a long time ago for the droplets of water falling from the lovely, at least he assumed they would be lovely, eyes of his child and the melancholy on his dear wife\u2019s face would certainly break him. Not that he ever liked the idea of a family but the funeral was making him sentimental, he thought. His own family, consisting of his parents, Lisa and John, and brother, Michael, was scattered around somewhere, probably crying their eyes out just like the Wilsons. If Martin could wish for anything in life, he would wish for his family to be happy, always. Of course, he knew why they were heartbroken, but still, he could not see the big deal. It would be odd to see the corners of their eyes wrinkling with the traces of a smile at an occasion like this, but despite not being able to see them, the image of them crying in his mind made him shiver. <\/p>\n\n\n\n At one point, people gathered around the coffin, creating a dark mass as a result. The priest, fucking Hughes who had a pea instead of an actual brain inside his skull, sprinkled some holy water on the inky surface, dampening it with the supposedly purified substance. Martin did not know why they chose him out of all people for the funeral. How could they forget about the allegations? Or rather, how could they be so shallow as to not care? As the priest went on, the cries intensified; sniffs could be heard, shushing sounds of the parents increased, the Sun burned the sweaty flesh of the people even more, and the silver cross creeping around the priest\u2019s neck like ivy was shining brightly as a result of it. Then, came that famous clich\u00e9, Ecclesiastes 3:1-4: <\/p>\n\n\n\n There is a time for everything, <\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n and a season for every activity under the heavens: <\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n A time to be born and a time to die, <\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n A time to plant and a time to uproot, <\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n A time to kill and a time to heal, <\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n A time to tear down and a time to build, <\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n A time to weep and a time to laugh, <\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n A time to mourn and a time to dance\u2026<\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n Martin really hoped that there would be a time to heal, build, laugh, and dance for some again. He knew some people would move on as if nothing happened just by looking at their faces, hiding them under the black veil of their fascinators, or morphing them into one of sorrow did not do much; Martin could see through them, and unveil their true feelings. Had it been up to him, he would have dispensed with the formalities, and just used lines from Tennyson, and if there is a God then may he bless him, \u201cIn Memoriam.\u201d Most probably, they would be from canto 2: <\/p>\n\n\n\n Old Yew, which graspest at the stones<\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n That name the under-lying dead,<\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n Thy fibres net the dreamless head,<\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n Thy roots are wrapt about the bones. <\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n Martin suspected they would be quite unfit and grisly to read out loud at a funeral, but he could not help but think that they fit perfectly with the graveyard, almost like a puzzle piece. The \u201cold yew\u201d like the ones adorning the space, the immortality of nature in contrast with the mortality of humankind\u2026 Martin, if he did not know any better, would say that Tennyson must have written these lines whilst looking at this exact place for a more accurate portrayal had never been made, at least not among those that he had heard. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Then another clich\u00e9, the reading of Psalm 121:5-8; it was usually Psalm 23:1-6 that would be read, but it wasn\u2019t Martin\u2019s place to question: <\/p>\n\n\n\n The Lord watches over you \u2013the Lord is your shade at your right hand;<\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n The sun will not harm you by day<\/em> (Martin highly doubted that given the current circumstances), nor the moon by night.<\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n The Lord will keep you from all harm \u2013he will watch over your life;<\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n The Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.<\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n Martin was bored already; this funeral was full of platitudes, void of any excitement. He was eagerly waiting for it to be over, but there was still the Mass to be endured. <\/p>\n\n\n\n After the unbearable thirty minutes of the Mass had passed, the time for the committal finally arrived. There was\u2014surprise\u2014nothing remarkable about it. Different versions of the same story were told, and poems people could not even interpret even if they were asked to were read out loud with exaggerated stress. Emmett Johnson, Martin\u2019s biggest rival in high school who spent his entire teenage years envying him, was reading Shakespeare\u2019s \u201cFear no more the heat o\u2019 the sun\u201d with dramatic gestures and pauses in between. What the fuck did he know about Shakespeare other than his first name? And was he really that dense? To choose this one out of all the things Shakespeare had written about grief? Really? Martin was sure that the bastard had done it on purpose. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Surprisingly, however, there was one exceptional element: the phenomenal song titled \u201cWonderful Life\u201d by Black was played. He couldn\u2019t dance\u2014even he was not as deranged as to dance at a funeral\u2014but he could feel his legs swaying with the rhythm of the song, and the lilies of hope starting to bloom inside his chest. It was the most pleasant four minutes and fifty-eight seconds he got to experience. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Then came the last, and maybe the hardest part of the funeral; it was time to say goodbye properly. The dirt was grabbed as tenderly as the human nature allowed, by one hand at first, and various hands joining in later. \u201cHe was too young, only thirty-seven,\u201d they muttered again whilst tossing some of the dirt along with some white lilies on the ebony coffin of Martin Blake, who died in a fire which erupted first in the forest next to his house, and spread to the house itself after. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt was a wildfire,\u201d they said, caused by the scorching heat of the Sun. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Martin had been inside, asleep on his comfy red couch with Faulkner\u2019s As I Lay Dying<\/em> on his stomach. He had thought that it was very irresponsible of him to move so far away from the town to be isolated from the townsfolk, but as he watched his funeral, he realized that it was more significant to lead a magnificent life (and his definition of a magnificent life was just living life the way he wanted to) than to force himself to put up with these people, the Wilsons and his family excluded. Michael would be missed the most; his brother had always been his best and biggest support. The old folks were distraught, but they would get used to his absence after a while with Michael\u2019s help, at least Martin hoped so; but now, it was time to go for his time was up. He looked towards his mother with the intention of seeing her face for one last time, and as he did so, Martin could swear that she looked right at him with those big brown eyes of hers, as warm as the Sun itself. This time, the Sun did not burn; it illuminated, and Martin was thankful for that. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n Lamby <\/p>\n\n\n\n The salty and sweet taste of caramel fills my mouth. I\u2019m telling him how this little kid in my class is obsessed with her collection of small pizza tables. He laughs and licks the strawberry jam off of his finger. I love it when the clouds in his head are scared away. I live for the days when he can say who I am. His laugh slowly turns into a still smile and his eyes stare into nothingness. And just like that, I\u2019m gone again. \u201cYou okay Pop?\u201d His eyes slowly roll on the pastel yellow wallpaper until they land on my face. \u201cLamby will take care of her, Marianne.\u201d With his face tilted, he smiles and puts his shaking hand on the right side of my neck. His expression turns into a confused one when a tear lands on his thumb. \u201cWhy are you crying baby?\u201d I take his hand and put it back on his lap before cupping my own face and crying my guts out. When I look up again, I\u2019m alone in the room and a pile of dough and strawberry jam is on the floor, crushed by his wheelchair.<\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n My eyelids weigh a ton each. My throat is dry and my head is throbbing. I can smell urine. There\u2019s a buzzing in my ear but I can hear distant shouts and babies crying. I want to sit upright but it\u2019s like my body has a mind of its own and decides to stay in the twisted shape it has taken. I want to breathe, I have to, but the air is thick with dust and my lungs are screaming for fresh air. I have to open my eyes; I have to know what happened. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I feel my stomach churning and somehow manage to turn my head to one side just in time before I vomit. I feel like my head is going to pop up open any second now. I try to sit a bit straighter and I finally manage to open my eyes as the devastating pain of my left side brings tears into them. It\u2019s dark, pitch black. I blink a few times until I can see some rays of light, blurry and dancing. Big chunks of the ceiling and walls have crushed my furniture. A thick layer of dust has covered everything and little particles of it are hovering all over. I wait a few more minutes, trying to steady my breath. It\u2019s not blurry anymore, but there are dark spots in my eyes. Did I hurt my head? Do I have a concussion? Am I going to be okay? <\/p>\n\n\n\n I start to breathe fast and off-beat again. I try to drag myself into a sitting position and that\u2019s when I see it. I look down at my left arm and for a second I don\u2019t recognize it. It looks like a pile of dough covered with thick strawberry jam. The sight of it makes me feel sick again. I groan as I try to move it. It\u2019s not broken but the pain is unbearable and tears come into my eyes again. I can feel my left leg is stuck, but I can\u2019t quite see it in this position. \u201cIt was sunny today. You would have liked it.\u201d I look around to see if I can use something to lift the metal piece that\u2019s fallen on my arm. \u201cI got a caramel donut for myself and a strawberry one for him. I told him about Becca.\u201d I don\u2019t find anything. I start to get dizzy. \u201cThey have changed the wallpapers. It\u2019s pastel yellow now, your favorite. Such a beautiful coincidence, isn\u2019t it?\u201d I try to unstick my arm by twisting it, but I end up screaming and crying from the pain, the arm still stuck. Fear and tears fill my eyes. \u201cI can\u2019t. I can\u2019t move. I can\u2019t breathe. My head is killing me. Help me, please!\u201d The panicky breathing comes back and I black out from the unbearable pain in my chest and arm. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou look gorgeous honey!\u201d Ma said as she took a step back to check out my new dress. \u201cYellow suits you so well!\u201d She continued, smiling. I\u2019m 7 years old and it\u2019s my first day of school. I picked out the yellow dress myself because it was her<\/em> favorite color. \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong sweetie?\u201d Ma asked. I looked up at her with eyes filled with tears and without saying a word, she knew. Ma smiled and held me tightly against her chest. \u201cOh pumpkin, it\u2019s okay. It\u2019s gonna be alright, I promise! If it ever happens again, and if I\u2019m not there, you\u2019ll always have Lamby to talk to. She can make you feel better and then I\u2019ll be there before you know it.\u201d Then she kissed my forehead. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I wake up from the pain. My fingers are numb. The buzzing in my ear has started to fade, and I can hear shouting and things falling but it\u2019s far away; so, so far away. I try to scream for help but no one seems to hear me. My throat is aching and my voice is hoarse. \u201cDo you remember when we found the little kitten in the backyard?\u201d I shift to look at my left leg. \u201cHis mommy took the other kittens and left him there. He was forgotten, he was an outsider. That\u2019s what you told me.\u201d It doesn\u2019t look good. It doesn\u2019t look right. That\u2019s not an angle the knee is supposed to bend in. Fear runs in my veins like icy water. My breaths become short and shaky. My chest is about to explode. \u201cWhy did you stop talking to me when I needed you the most?\u201d I can\u2019t remember when I started crying but now I can\u2019t stop. \u201cYou were the only one I had!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n I hated him. I hated him for yelling at me when I was crying. I hated him because he gave me the silent treatment. I hated him because he would stare at the floor for hours but not look me in the eye even for a second. I wanted to tell him how much I despised him. I wanted to tell him I wish he was dead instead of Ma. I wanted to tell him he\u2019s the monster who chases me in my nightmares every night. But instead I swallowed my too-salty carrots and uncooked chicken, burnt toast with strawberry jam, soggy cereal, answered the door when he\u2019s too drunk to do it, held my tongue when he mocked Lamby, and tried to stay away from him when we were under the same roof so I could have some peace in my own mind; where I begged Lamby to talk to me again, where I stepped into my memories and laughed with Ma again. <\/p>\n\n\n\n This time the sound of something heavy crushing down wakes me up. For a second I don\u2019t realize where I am until I feel the pain rising up in my leg. It\u2019s like someone has lit a fire to my heel and the flames are devouring my leg and stop going up as they lick my knee. Oh god, oh god, no. I\u2019m on fire. The house is on fire and I can\u2019t move. I can smell the burnt flesh. I look down at my broken knee with a shriek, expect to see all kinds of scary-movie flesh and bone, but no. It\u2019s just the pain that feels like fire burn. I groan and lie back again. That\u2019s when I hear Max crying. Cara Bell has just moved into the next apartment with her son, Max. I call out to him. He tells me his mother is with him, but she isn\u2019t moving. The icy water turns back in my veins. \u201cMrs. Bell? Mrs. Bell, can you hear me?\u201d Nothing. Max sobs. \u201cIt\u2019s okay, it\u2019s gonna be okay sweetie.\u201d But a voice in my head yells \u201cIT WON\u2019T\u201d over and over again. I call out louder \u201cMrs. Bell are you there?\u201d I swallow painfully and wait. She doesn\u2019t answer. I try to concentrate on Max rather than the voice in my head and the pain. \u201cMax, sweetie, can you move? Can you get out of the building?\u201d He sniffles and tells me that he can. \u201cListen, I need you to get out and get an adult to come and help your mom and me okay? There are adults out there hel\u2026\u201d he cut me, crying hard and tells me something I can\u2019t understand. I try to calm him down but he just wouldn\u2019t shut up. My head and chest are exploding, I feel like my leg is cutting off, I can\u2019t breathe right, the dark spots are still dancing in front of my eyes, the darkness is eating me alive, and for a second I can\u2019t take it anymore. \u201cMax!\u201d I yell. I don\u2019t recognize my own voice. \u201cIf you don\u2019t stop right now there\u2019s no going back, there\u2019s no hope. Stop it, stop!\u201d His voice has lowered to a whispering sob. \u201cI\u2019m stuck and I can\u2019t move. No one else can hear me and you\u2019re the only one who can get help for me and your mother. You have to hurry; do you hear me?\u201d he complains under his breath and I completely lose it. \u201cStop fucking crying and go get someone!\u201d I\u2019m panting, I\u2019m bleeding, I\u2019m dizzy. He shuffles and then I hear him leave, running and limping. I start to cry, loudly. Not because of pain, but because I have just yelled at a little kid who has probably lost his mother. Because this time, I <\/em>have become the monster. <\/p>\n\n\n\n My shoes were hurting my toes and the dress was ugly and black. Ma was gone. Lamby had stopped talking to me. Dad had stopped talking to me. I felt like I was in a bubble and nothing could penetrate it; like I was in a dream and I was floating. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Max never came back. Was he even there? Did I really talk to him? <\/p>\n\n\n\n I feel like a little doll that\u2019s been tossed under the bed and forgotten. Forever. Except the doll will eventually be found and the memories stuck to it remembered. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I\u2019ve lost so much blood. I dream, and I have nightmares. I wake up and everything hurts. I see light and darkness; I see darkness inside the light. Bright blue sky and Ma\u2019s face. Pop in the nursing house. I dream of a life I never had. I shiver and I know I have a fever. I whisper the things I wish I could\u2019ve told Ma, and I regret not telling them to Pop when I could. I feel like I\u2019m falling down a tunnel and it\u2019s lit brightly. It\u2019s shining. My eyeballs scream with pain. I close my eyes and open them again. I\u2019m still in the tunnel and the dark spots in my eyes are growing; bigger and bigger and bigger until they cover almost everything. \u201cYou came back!\u201d A cold tear escapes my right eye and falls on the birthmark on my neck. I smile faintly and touch Lamby on my neck, where the tear has landed. \u201cYou came back\u2026\u201d I repeat as I fall into a deep sleep.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n THE BURNT <\/p>\n\n\n\n I opened my eyes fully after a strange dream I dreamt. The only thing I could remember about the dream was silhouette of a girl. A girl, whose silhouette was only enough for me to understand she had curly and long hair. Yes, she must have been the same girl in the caf\u00e9 I met last night, the ghost waitress. The dim light of green caf\u00e9 made her appear mysterious and I unconsciously shaped my perception of her according to the atmosphere. Was she as mysterious even under sunlight I thought, and honestly, I did not know. <\/p>\n\n\n\n This was bizarre, I thought, I had never woken up from a dream before, feeling as if I got enough sleep. Maybe this was only an effect of the wine I enjoyed last night but the dream indicated that there was another reason. I picked my watch from the nightstand, seeing it was five A.M. It was probably just before morning azan and there were voices coming from the kitchen, indicating mom could not sleep the entire night. Suddenly another voice, a sound of mewling, came from a few metres away. I straightened up and put a soft kiss on her furry head, right between two ears. Getting up and putting on the lights, I saw my jacket and pants that were covered with wine after my hand had hit the glass, falling in a deep trance after ghost waitress\u2019s weird, yet logical words. I could not remember how I made it home. Craving for the first cigarette of the day, I made my way into the kitchen. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I held the cold doorhandle, opening the door. A fog of God knows how many lit cigarettes hit me in the face, making my craving even more. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhoa! Did you wake up already?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHad a strange dream, my eyes opened wide suddenly\u201d \u201cAllahallah, I hope nothing\u2019s wrong\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n I looked her in the eye and said \u201cEverything is fine mom, no worries,\u201d with a smile on my face.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n I was trying to plan my day as the sounds of adhan started to echo. There was a feeling of curiosity about the girl in the cafe last night. I was wondering if she would be there today and if she would, would she appear as a ghost while yellow light beams of noon hitting her skin? Again, curiosities with no answers. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I gazed upon the bottles of wine standing on the kitchen bench. Who knows, maybe we could enjoy a few glasses of wine today. Suddenly I felt a strange urge, a strange urge to do something that I did not know what. I found myself in the entrance polishing my dirty boots at the crack of dawn like a military officer dad, who would deal with his stuff and shut the door silently way before his son and wife open their bleary eyes, even before the circular red flame shows itself above the horizon. The boots would be done in a few minutes, now ready to handle the whole weight of the body in style. That was what I learned from my dad. I could see the entr\u00e9e from my room, from the bed I laid down on. He used to polish his boots which were observed between four little eyelashes that were both open enough to see and close enough to be perceived as closed. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I finished polishing my boots with the studiousness of my dad. The sour scent of shoe polish indicated I had applied enough. As soon as they were done, looking as new as they could, I set the ironing board in my room and started to collect wrinkled shirts. The steam filled the room, making everything appear as silhouettes. I was in an unexplainable mood of joy, thinking about the spiritual atmosphere of the cafe and the mysterious figure of the waitress I met last night. The thoughts in my mind were so intense that I felt the hot iron touching my left hand hardly after the damage was done. I pulled my hand before it stuck to the iron. Almost half of my hand was now blistered but I barely felt the pain and simply didn\u2019t mind it.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n The ironing was done and it was now 7 A.M.; time for breakfast. However, my stomach felt as if mankind did not need to feed and therefore the organ was useless. I put on the headphones and started to listen to my favourite metal songs as I wandered in my home. Then I craved another cigarette and lit it up in front of the kitchen window, gazing upon the landscape and listening to Whiskey in The Jar by Metallica joyously. A strange, fearful sound pierced the loud sound of the song and I turned back hastily. Mom seemed afraid and serious which made me pull off my headphones in haste. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat happened? I could not hear you\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat the hell happened to your hand, does it hurt much?\u201d She shouted. \u201cI touched the iron, no worries it feels fine\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLet\u2019s find some burn cream and bandage it,\u201d She stood up in hurry. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMom, I\u2019ve injured myself so many times so far, you know that. I swear it doesn\u2019t hurt, remember once I cut this hand wide open.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Of course, she ignored my words but I was not pretending. She opened the boxes in which we kept medical stuff, turning everywhere into a mess. As she was applying the cream and then the bandage, I felt as if someone was putting woollen gloves on my hands, completely painless. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIs it better now? Though it hurts a bit at first\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI swear nothing has changed, but thanks a lot mom\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLet\u2019s have our breakfast, we have b\u00f6rek, I can also fry some eggs and sausages.\u201d \u201cI am fed, don\u2019t want to eat anything, maybe later\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAre you sure you\u2019re okay? Something has surely happened to you.\u201d \u201cMom I\u2019m really fine, just a bit energetic maybe.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOkay, so be it. I\u2019m going to sleep, don\u2019t keep yourself hungry and be careful with your hand\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n I kissed her on top of her head and went back to my room, continuing to listen to my metal playlist. It was now 9 A.M., a strange time to drink wine but I was determined to visit her and there was no other pretext for it I could think of. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I found myself about a few hundred metres away from the cafe. The plane tree in the middle of the cafe was visible from where I was. I started to feel my heartbeat as I walked since there was only minutes until our second meeting. Every heartbeat was at the same time with my steps, and I was walking fast. I thought there would be no one craving wine at such an odd time and I imagined that the cafe would be empty except for waiters and waitresses. Maybe she would drink a glass of that magic potion with me, after all she was as crazy as I was, when it comes to manners. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I entered the cafe and sat down on the same chair I did last night. Looking around, my eyes caught the visual of the girl between leaves. She did not seem mysterious; in fact, she was visible enough for one to even forget the word mysterious while describing her. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Though she was still beautiful as her ghostly figure was last night. The mystery would often enable one to be attracted to someone based on its provision of imaginations. The mystery would provide room for imagination of the dream person, the sunlight would not, revealing the actual. However, the actual I was spying on was equally attractive. There was a blouse on her different from last night\u2019s. Her dark skin was visible, her gestures were noticeable, and her eyes were as black and shiny as my boots. Visible between dark green hedera leaves, she was talking to a guy whom I thought to be a waiter as well. However, the guy reached for his pocket and pulled out something, handing it over to the girl I met last night. Suddenly, I felt the great emptiness of my stomach, along with the vibration of its growling.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n The feeling of hunger became some kind of pain, as if it was the time to feel hungry. My head started to feel dizzy as if I was sleep deprived but the worst was my hand. The hand which felt completely healthy was now in extreme pulsating pain, making me want to stand up and jump on the ground. <\/p>\n\n\n\n As I turned my head again towards the girl, who seemed so happy and grateful, the emptiness, dizziness and excruciating pain peaked. As she laughed, my left hand felt as if I was dipping it into lava and the pain gradually spread. Now, my heart which was beating at the same time with my steps a few minutes ago, was beating at the same time with the pulsating pain, making it unendurable. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I held my hand and laid on it in a desperate attempt to kill the pain. As I was writhing in pain, we came eye to eye, causing her to approach me in a bit of a haste unlike the slowness of her steps last night. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHey! Welcome again, are you okay, what happened to your hand?\u201d \u201cI burned it,\u201d I could barely speak. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cCome, let\u2019s take a look at it,\u201d She led me inside, in front of the first-aid chest. <\/p>\n\n\n\n She laid a towel on a table and started to put scissors, bandages, a bottle of antiseptic, a cream and a tablet of painkillers one by one, putting them on the towel. As she was cutting the old bandage, the sound of scissors cutting it made me feel uncomfortable. I looked her in the eye and once again and I understood, she was actually attractive without mystery. <\/p>\n\n\n\n The pain was still beyond endurance as if it was burning right now. I could tell the pain was nothing about the burn. She removed the dressing and wiped the applied cream carefully, spilling blood-red tincture of iodine on the wound. She spread it and sanitised her hands. She squeezed the tube on her index finger, whose nail was as red as my wound, and\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n plenty of yellowish cream came out from the tube. As she started to apply the cream on the blood-red wound, with her finger, I smelled the sweet scent of the cream along with the tingling caused by her touch. A tingling that my grandmother said to be an indication of healing of a wound years ago. She taught this to me when I was only eight, after a wasp\u2019s final resort to be freed from my little, yet brutal hands. It was happening once again, but somehow the pain continued with the same severity. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDo you feel any better?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI do,\u201d I said, without revealing that the pain was still excruciating. <\/p>\n\n\n\n It was at that moment she grabbed the bandage with one hand and held my hand with the other, starting to dress the wound. It was at that moment I felt something strange, the same feeling of being home after a long and exhausting journey. The feeling of one\u2019s spine relieved from twenty kilograms of weight or the feeling of comfort which enables one to be undress and wander naked in his or her personal space, neither burden, nor shame is allowed in this feeling. The pain started to decrease gradually, along with the dizziness and feeling of extreme hunger. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAny better?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes, honestly,\u201d I answered, since she seemed to understand that I lied when she first asked. <\/p>\n\n\n\n It was finally done when she handed me the painkillers, saying \u201cyou might still want <\/p>\n\n\n\n this.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhy, will something else happen to increase the pain again?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI don\u2019t think so, come, let me introduce you to my brother,\u201d She said, spotting the guy whom I saw handing her the gift.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n The pain, dizziness and hunger disappeared all of a sudden. We shook hands, greeting each other. He bid farewell and waved as he was leaving. I was shocked. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHe\u2019s a nice guy,\u201d I said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhy are you here at this hour? Wine is drunk in the evenings.\u201d \u201cThere is no single time to drink wine, and that\u2019s why I\u2019m here now.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n We looked each other in the eye, knowing one of us was acting the fool and the other was lying, a smile appeared on both of our faces. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n My Rock Friend<\/strong> <\/p>\n\n\n\n Though making sand castles under the hot sun had its own charm, being much too inquisitive for his age, Ali wanted to explore more of the beach, preferably on his own. <\/p>\n\n\n\n His six-year-old feet on the burning sand felt a lot like what he had been told about lava. It was trying to suck him into the ground, but with some skillful legwork, he was able to counter it. Just as one of his legs was close to being swallowed whole, he would raise the other one high up, splashing grains of lava about him, and land it a step forward for the process to repeat itself. He was quite enjoying teasing his enemy like this. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Before he knew it, he was a few feet away from his family, and his mother was calling his name from behind, ordering him to return. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAli! Stay here son, you remember I told you not to wander too far away from us! There are bad people around here, it\u2019s not safe!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n But Ali paid no heed. He was quite used to this constant scolding, don\u2019t do this, don\u2019t go there, don\u2019t don\u2019t don\u2019t.<\/em> Overtime he realized that the only function it fulfilled was to make things less fun. He remembered the time when his mother had repeatedly told him not to take candy from strangers, but once when he was waiting outside his school because the van was late, a strange man offered fizzy candy to him, the kind that bursts like fireworks inside your mouth. He remembered how he placed it on his tongue and closed his eyes waiting for the pop, and his tongue turned into the night sky and each firework released oh so much sweetness and color inside his mouth that he had decided that the next time there is a wedding tent in the street outside his house and it\u2019s time for fireworks, he would surely look up directly at them with his mouth wide open, hoping for one to land right on his tongue, no matter how much his mother told him not to get too close. Of course, he did not tell his mother about the man and the candy, for she would surely get angry. She might refuse to get him the toy gun that she had finally agreed to, or stop him from playing with his friends outside, or if she got really angry, she might even tell Dad. <\/p>\n\n\n\n But for now, he was swiftly moving through the lava, his mother\u2019s voice fading away. Surely, the other kids must be wondering what he is up to. Maybe they thought he was being a bad child by not listening to his mother, but little did they know about the important lesson he had learnt, that the things that adults tend to call not safe<\/em> are those fun things that they want to keep secret for themselves. For example, she was wrong about there being bad people around here. There seemed to be no one else in sight, maybe the lava had swallowed them all. Except a big rock in the sand which looked oddly like a smiling face, and sparkled like his mother\u2019s necklace that she always told him not to play with. At least this rock was much more interesting than the other kids, and playing in the hot lava sand instead of making the same boring castles with the wet sand. Even Dad had gotten bored of it and walked back into the hut. It was time for Ali to be the hero and save the day. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDon\u2019t you worry Mr. Rock! I will save you from the lava!\u201d, he exclaimed, and bounced his way till he was directly above the rock. He dug his fingers around it, and plucked it out of the lava before it could dissolve into the earth. It was quite heavy, but a hero must demonstrate his strength, so Ali held onto it even though it hurt his fingers. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThat was close! See, I told you I will save you. Now we must cool you down\u201d, Ali said to the rock, and carried it towards the water. As the waves washed the lava away, he could see the rock\u2019s smile widening, and it shone even brighter than mother\u2019s necklace. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAli! That\u2019s enough! Don\u2019t you remember how many times I told you not to go near the water? And drop that stupid rock right now! If it falls, you\u2019ll break your feet!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Ali knew that his mother was scared of the water, and would not be able to catch him if he went inside. So, he strode into the sea, while recalling his father\u2019s swimming lessons earlier in the day, how he had said that the water suddenly gets very deep at one point, and even he does not go that far so Ali should not either. The water was almost about to reach his rock friend tucked safely under his right arm, but Ali was mindful enough to offer comforting words. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThey want to take you away from me. But don\u2019t you worry, I will be your best friend. I will keep you safe!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThat\u2019s it! I\u2019m calling your father!\u201d his mother shouted behind him, and she ran back inside the hut. <\/p>\n\n\n\n As soon as the rock was submerged inside the water, it felt much less heavy. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh boy, you didn\u2019t tell me you knew how to swim!\u201d Ali sprang with excitement, and with his left hand held his nose shut just the way his father showed him when they were dunking their heads under water to look for jelly fish. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Right as he felt his hair getting wet, the ground beneath him disappeared, and Ali dropped down in slow motion like the heroes did in movies, until his feet landed on sand which was just like the lava in which he found the rock, except a bit colder. Like when they had come to the same beach many days ago and instead of the sun there were many clouds. He thought to himself that maybe the water is just like clouds and maybe that\u2019s why the sky is blue and sometimes he had seen waves in it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n As he took step after step assisted by his friend\u2019s swimming, he wasn\u2019t much worried about his father. Sure, his father knew how to swim, but what did he know about walking on lava? Ali looked up at the surface, where light was bouncing back and forth like it did on the wedding tents. But suddenly he realized that the water was darkening, it was turning into the night sky. <\/p>\n\n\n\n At that moment, Ali wished that he could take his hand off his nose and speak. For if he could, he would have told his smiling friend to look up. And since he wasn\u2019t feeling too secretive, he would have even given away the spoiler. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThere might be fireworks.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n 101 SECONDS <\/p>\n\n\n\n The wretched noise of an old Massey Ferguson rumbled the cabin windows and it almost felt like the walls were going to crumble down with the vibration. \u201cOut of all 12 cabins, it had to be mine that\u2019s right by the road. I really should have thought this through,\u201d rambled the young man. The gargantuan white Kangal whined in fear and started looking for a place to hide from all the noise. As he led the dog outside with a large bone treat in his hand, he took the view in and thought to himself: <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cReally though, how many days would it take them to notice if something happened to me? I\u2019m in the middle of the mountain, I don\u2019t get mail, I don\u2019t get visitors, none for me, anyway. The ones that stay in the cabins? How long do I even see them? I get their IDs, that takes a solid 30 seconds at least. I give them their keys, so that’s 10 seconds? On the way to their cabins, I show them where they can get wood for when they\u2019re cold, and food when they\u2019re hungry, that takes me a minute, and it\u2019s the best part for sure. What more? The occasional awkward hello when we inevitably see each other the next day, not even a single second sometimes. A hundred and one seconds of their time, that\u2019s what I\u2019m worth. And I haven\u2019t even gotten a customer for over two weeks. When was the last time I\u2019ve genuinely spoken to someone? When\u2019s the last time someone genuinely spoke to me?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n While the fluffy and under-groomed white Bolognese dog was playfully walking around the cabin, the young man stood thinking by himself. A battered car made its way up the hill and parked outside. The old, red hatchback was battle-scarred for sure. The roof rack had plenty of outdoor gear that was loosely packed, and the back seats were full of something, although it wasn\u2019t visible because of the slightly tinted windows. A tanned woman rolled down the window to look at the reception. She looked for a few seconds before removing her sunglasses to make sure someone was in there. As she removed her\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n glasses, she saw the young man sitting at his desk and looking at her. The young man didn\u2019t have any thoughts, he didn\u2019t make any smart deductions. He looked at the schedule on his computer screen that noted the arrival of a single visitor. Maybe that was why he pondered on his loneliness. Though his eyes were fixed on the stranger in the parking lot, he was still thinking about the 101 seconds. <\/p>\n\n\n\n The blonde walked in with a warm smile and as she entered the cabin that was allocated for the reception, she looked around the walls that were filled with memorabilia. The antlers looked as if they came off a deer that was the size of a mammoth. The wood cups, sculptures and planks so carefully carved, were just as good as one could imagine a simple piece of wood could be. He looked through the wood carvings and other handcrafted pieces with a closeted sense of pride in his chest and although everything the eye could see was made by him, except the cabins, he never told any of his visitors about his work. The cabins were made by a craftsman from Istanbul who fell in the lake during the construction, he still chuckled when he remembered that day. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHow could those logs from the other side of the earth be two times as cheap as the logs from the forest nearby?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n He never did find an answer to the question, but he didn\u2019t get much help while thinking of an answer. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHello,\u201d she said with a bright smile that even lit her ears up. The time started ticking. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWelcome, do you have a reservation?\u201d \u201cYes, it\u2019s under \u0130zlem.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMay I have your ID card for registration?\u201d \u201cOf course.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n He quickly dialed in the information. \u0130zlem G\u00fcnal. Born thirteenth of March 2000. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Woman. Single, even though that\u2019s none of his business. \u201cYou\u2019ll be staying in Cabin #2. Here are your keys.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n He got up from his chair and walked to the door without making any gestures, just looking forward. When he got to the door, he looked back at the woman; and only then did she understand that she was meant to follow him. With a timid laugh and a silent \u201cOh!\u201d she wrapped her rugged bag around her shoulder and started following him. On the short walk to the cabin, he showed her the wooden building where she could get her firewood and mentioned the small restaurant that offers local breakfast and fish just up the road. This was the exact moment he felt proud. The cabins were his idea, yet he didn\u2019t nail in a single piece of wood during their construction. He didn\u2019t feel anything looking at them. The small lake that they had made by cutting the local lake off: His idea as well. But his brother was responsible for that, so he really couldn\u2019t feel anything looking at that either. Nobody ever took a second glance at the miscellanea on the walls, except her of course. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWait a minute!\u201d, he thought. \u201cShe did look at the walls, didn\u2019t she?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n The realization came too late, as they were already at the door of cabin number two. \u201cThis is it,\u201d he said. \u201cYou can tell me if you need anything.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThank you!\u201d she cheerfully said. As she entered the cabin, he couldn\u2019t help but take a peek inside just before the double doors were closed. She was looking around as if she was awed by the beauty of the cabin. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cShe is interested in the place.\u201d He thought to himself before getting back to reception. It was a late check-in, and the weather had already started to get dark. There weren\u2019t any lights other than the ones in the cabins, and even at 18:34, it was too late to go\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n outside. He called it an early night since he wasn\u2019t expecting any new guests, and the season for unexpected ones was still a ways off. <\/p>\n\n\n\n The next morning, he got out of bed a few minutes after sunrise. It didn\u2019t seem like he had anything in mind. It wasn\u2019t much different than watching a river flow, watching himself perform his routine. Just as the water follows the creek; he got up from his bed, went to the toilet, fed the animals, cleaned the house, swept the yard, and put some new firewood in the small depot. He would never be surprised, or even have anything slightly unexpected happen during the hour and a half it took him to perform all these tasks. Every single step he took, every move he made, it all added up to a single result; a single purpose. So much so that he didn\u2019t even notice his neighbour wave hello from the road while he restocked the firewood. He didn\u2019t notice the visitor playing with the cat that he fed from time to time; he was too busy milking the cows. He didn\u2019t even notice the small Bolognese stealing the large bone that was almost twice its size from the monstrous Kangal. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGood morning, can I have some clean towels please?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOf course, let me fetch them from the back. I\u2019ll be right back.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n While he folded the two clean towels he took from the shelf and went back to reception, he noticed the girl tracing the engraved abundance charm pattern on the big piece of wood hung on the wall with her fingers. The pattern looked like the head of a battering ram and it was carefully carved and polished. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI made most of the decorations myself.\u201d he hastily said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThey look beautiful. This is why I love this region so much; something is enchanting about this place. This one\u2019s made of walnut, right?\u201d she said as she held the plank that had the abundance charm.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIf you\u2019re interested, I can show you how to make one,\u201d he said. After all, local activities were listed on the promotion page. Her eyes lit up with enthusiasm. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI would love that! You have to show me the dragon charm, that\u2019s my favourite.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n He went back to his little workbench to bring back some tools and brought back the very best of the wood he had left. He couldn\u2019t help but be amazed by her knowledge, he didn\u2019t know a single person other than his grandfather that knew about those charms. He taught her about a basic pattern to put on a piece of wood that was no bigger than her hand. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThat way she can take it with her anywhere.\u201d he thought to himself. <\/p>\n\n\n\n By the time she had finished, several hours had passed. They went back and forth as she made some mistakes, and even though the mistakes were hardly ever fixed, the thrill of making another mark kept her spirits high. She thanked him sincerely and went back to her cabin with her work. When he looked at his watch, he realized that the time for lunch was long past. He thought about the 101 seconds that made him feel worthless and realized that nothing had changed. He was the same, what he knew was the same, what he had was the same, and yet he felt better. As the new white SUV pulled up to the parking lot, he quickly checked his computer screen to see two new visitors coming in. He tidied himself up and went outside. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWelcome to the Valley Lodges! How was the drive up here?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSteep and narrow, but the views were worth the struggle. We have a reservation for today; it\u2019s under Deniz.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019ll help you get settled in, and we can check you in afterwards.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh thank you,\u201d the man said while taking the mountain air in and looking around. \u201cThe cabins look even better than the photos.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThey\u2019re beautiful, but not local,\u201d he said with a smile. \u201cI just can\u2019t understand how some trees from the other side of the earth cost more than the ones here.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n He was in for a treat now, as the two visitors started bashing the economy. He felt a newfound sense of peace resonate in his soul. He had never realized how beautiful the little lake was, or how good the food tasted.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n SNOW-WHITE <\/p>\n\n\n\n Uzunyayla Neighborhood is one of the villages of the Yakutiye district of Erzurum, where farmers and small tradesmen live and follow their religion. When the noon call to prayer was read that day, Cemil, a tall and slightly lean farmer, walked along with everyone else towards the mosque to pray. At the end of the prayer, he walked slowly towards his car with his head slightly bent forward and thoughtfully. The restlessness within Cemil stemmed from the problems between him and his pregnant wife, Zeynep. The disagreement was primarily about the name they would give to their unborn children. His prayer in the mosque calmed him down a bit. Cemil sat in his car for a while, took a deep breath, and started to watch the people coming out of the mosque. The smiles and sincerity he saw on people\u2019s faces had begun to seem foreign to him lately. Reluctantly and slowly, he grabbed the steering wheel, started his car, and then drove home. <\/p>\n\n\n\n When he arrived home, Zeynep opened the door, but he didn\u2019t even look at her face. The two of them silently stepped inside. As soon as Zeynep closed the door, she went to the kitchen and started to prepare the lunch. The silence inside the house was making the already tense atmosphere even more. Cemil made his way to the living room and settled in the armchair and took a newspaper, but he was only looking at the pictures. The only thing that broke the silence in the living room was the faint sound of newspaper pages turning. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Cemil\u2019s mother Nazar, who was also in the living room, was aware of the tension between her son and daughter-in-law. She sighed deeply. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cPrayer has brought some calmness to your face, my son. May Allah accept it,\u201d said <\/p>\n\n\n\n Nazar. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGod bless you, Mom,\u201d Cemil replied briefly.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThe lady in the kitchen didn\u2019t even say it,\u201d Cemil sighed and murmured indicating Zeynep. <\/p>\n\n\n\n These words expressed Cemil\u2019s disappointment and anger, and criticized Zeynep\u2019s attitude against himself. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou married lovingly; you both are good-hearted people. Don’t worry yourself, these days will pass,\u201d Nazar said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Cemil didn\u2019t say anything, but his mother had already made a plan to end the tension between this couple. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cShe is craving wild mushrooms today. After the meal, go and pick some up and please her. You will have a child together. Make your wife happy so that you can be happy, my child,\u201d she added. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Cemil was getting tired of the tension. He lowered the newspaper under his eyes and gave an implying look to her mother that he may accept this suggestion. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019ll go and check the mountain. Don\u2019t tell her anything,\u201d he said and accepted this well-intentioned offer from his mother. <\/p>\n\n\n\n The three sat at the table to eat, but the tension remained. No sound could be heard throughout the meal except for the clattering of forks hitting plates. The chicken Zeynep cut with a knife and ate, although it crunched in her mouth like a hard rock, the slowing down and straining while swallowing made it clear that the tension was still there. Cemil, on the other hand, was eating slowly, breathing wheezily as he swallowed each bite. <\/p>\n\n\n\n After finishing the meal, Cemil quietly got up and went out. He was really tired of the tense atmosphere at home, and it was time to take a step to ensure peace for their unborn child. Although he blamed Zeynep for this unease, Cemil trusted his mother\u2019s advice and decided to make things right with his wife.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n As Cemil stepped out of the door, the cold air hit his face. The weather was cloudy and there was a fresh smell of snow. He sat in his car and thought to himself for a moment: <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhy did we become like this when everything was going well?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cRecently, she started to behave resentfully towards me, and I started to treat her the same way,\u201d Cemil answered himself. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cShe is also insistent on naming the child after her late father. No way! The name will be after my father!\u201d he said harshly, pulling the seat belt. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Cemil silenced his inner voice and took a deep breath. After starting the car, he set off. The snow was starting to drizzle and the wind was increasing, but he realized it too late because of the storm in his mind. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Cemil saw that he had reached the foothill of Demir Mountain. He watched the snowflakes fall on the windshield for a while. The snowfall was occasionally heavy, occasionally steadier, but this wouldn\u2019t pose a threat to picking mushrooms. He tucked the bag he took from the glove box into his pocket. In Demir Mountain, wild mushrooms were generally found in high altitudes. Cemil turned off the car\u2019s radio without wasting any time and walked towards the foothill of the mountain putting his hands under his armpits. <\/p>\n\n\n\n He set off towards the higher parts of the mountain, by carefully looking around. He knew that animals around the area usually eat or shred mushrooms in the lower parts of the mountain. So he started climbing the mountain with fast steps. At the same time, the intensity of the snow was increasing, and climbing was getting more and more difficult with each passing moment. While climbing the mountain, he spoke to himself in a breathless voice: <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt\u2019s enough if I find a few.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n The closer he got to the top of the Mountain, the faster the snowflakes began to hit his face. He began to feel the sharp sound of the wind and the coldness of the wind in his ears. Since the snow turned into a small blizzard, Cemil had a hard time seeing ahead. Could he find mushrooms in this white hell? It was difficult to see the mushrooms on the snow- covered ground. He found a few mushrooms by probing where the snow had formed a convex shape, the rest overflowing. He put the mushrooms he had collected into the bag he took from her pocket. <\/p>\n\n\n\n His hands were trembling from the cold. He knew that going down in the escalating snowstorm would have deadly consequences. So Cemil took refuge in a small, sheltered, and relatively warm cave that caught his eye. The only sign of life inside the dark cave was Cemil\u2019s rapid heartbeat. In this cave, which promised him life, Cemil crouched on a stone, pulling his knees towards his stomach to preserve his body temperature. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLook at the situation! I want to do something romantic just one time in my whole life, but nature doesn\u2019t allow it,\u201d he complained playfully. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Cemil was waiting for the blizzard to subside in the cave, but it was constantly increasing, covering the sky like a white curtain. His cell phone was not picking up signals. The snow would have blocked the roads. He made a sudden decision and quickly left the cave. He couldn\u2019t see anything outside, however. Snowflakes stuck in his eyes. He hurried back to the cave to wait until the blizzard subsided. Cemil tried to go out again when the blizzard slowed down, but now the snow on the ground was almost reaching his knees. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Clinging to rocks and trees with his limited vision, he began to walk slowly. When the blizzard regained strength, he could no longer go forward or backward. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMy God, please help, please help me!\u201d he repeated to himself more than once.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n Cemil couldn\u2019t see it, but he understood that he was in the middle part of the mountain. While dragging his feet through the snow, his right foot came into a gap and fell into a puddle. He sprained his foot and got wet. <\/p>\n\n\n\n In agony, he began to writhe and said, \u201cOh, fuck! My foot, my back\u2026\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Cemil had to hop around for a while. He felt a large boulder with his hand and sheltered from the blizzard behind it so he could sit for a while. He tore off the lower part of his wet trousers\u2019 right leg with his hand and wrapped his coat around it. He also took off his wet socks and wore the shoes barefoot. He decided to wait for a while, hoping the blizzard might slow down. Meanwhile, Cemil began to feel desperate and emotional. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGod, please don\u2019t let anything happen to me here. Think of my child, please!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n He took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs so much that he had a brief coughing fit. Cemil\u2019s eyes were starting to close, he seemed to fall asleep several times. Then he woke up suddenly. <\/p>\n\n\n\n He stood up abruptly, saying, \u201cI must not sleep, for my unborn child, for my wife.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Cemil started to walk with difficulty, dragging his right foot and holding his waist with one hand. At the same time, the feeling of sleep began to increase gradually. While he was feeling the rocks with his hands, his eye caught the termite nest he had come across while climbing the mountain. Without thinking, he rolled up his sleeve and plunged his hand into the termite nest. Since Cemil knew that termites would not harm human health, he allowed them to bite his arm. So he could stay awake thanks to the pain of termite bites. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Slowly, he continued his steps to leave the middle of the mountain and descend towards the foothills. However, he soon began to have trouble standing. Cemil never thought of giving up; he kept holding on to the rocks.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n Cemil’s mother, Nazar, was beginning to worry about her son. When she could not contact her son on the cell phone, she immediately told her daughter-in-law Zeynep about this situation. Later in the evening, when the weather got dark, Zeynep called the gendarmerie and asked for help: <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHello?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n A female officer on the other end of the phone replied, \u201cThis is Gendarmerie Station. <\/p>\n\n\n\n How can I help you, Madam?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMy husband went to Demir Mountain at noon but still hasn’t returned. I cannot reach him, I\u2019m pregnant, and I’m really worried about him. Please do something, please!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMa\u2019am, please calm down. You may rest assured that we will definitely help you. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Now, I\u2019ll inform the nearest station around Demir Mountain about the situation. By the way, how many months pregnant are you?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cFor six months,\u201d Zeynep replied tearfully. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Neither side said anything else for like ten seconds. Realizing that Zeynep was crying, the officer’s eyes filled with tears. The officer asked: <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat is your name?\u201d \u201cZeynep,\u201d she said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cZeynep, don’t worry. I’m sure that we’ll find your husband. I have to turn off the phone to avoid keeping the line busy, but I’ll call you on my cell phone now. Don’t worry; I’m with you.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n The female officer wanted to stay in constant communication with Zeynep to be able to intervene immediately if Zeynep had a problem due to her pregnancy. They talked about various subjects to distract Zeynep until some news came from the other station. While the\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n two were talking on the phone, a gendarmerie car came to the house and took them to the hospital. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Zeynep was walking quickly through the hospital rooms looking for Cemil, while her mother-in-law was walking slowly by keeping the arm of a nurse. As soon as Zeynep saw Cemil, she ran towards him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cCemil!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Cemil was lying on a stretcher, exhausted. Hearing his wife’s voice, he opened his eyes and looked at his wife. Zeynep started kissing Cemil’s hands, crying. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMy love, I was so scared. We were so scared,\u201d she said putting Cemil\u2019s hands to her <\/p>\n\n\n\n belly. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Cemil didn’t say anything and forced himself to a sitting position. He reached into the coat next to him. He took the mushroom bag and put it in Zeynep’s palm. <\/p>\n\n\n\n “I was dying for you; I would die again,” he said with teary eyes and a hoarse voice. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Meanwhile, Cemil’s mother, Nazar, sat on a couch and cried happily by looking at the <\/p>\n\n\n\n couple.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n COPPER AND CAST IRON <\/p>\n\n\n\n Khalid had never seen so many different kinds of steel before. The textures were so visceral; the copper, the stainless steel, the cast iron and the latest carbon steel, they were old but in perfect condition. Better than perfect really, the pans were seasoned. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Each member stood alert as she walked in. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGood Morning everyone!\u201d sending shrills down their collective spines. Without wait for interruption she continued, <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThis is Khalid, he\u2019ll be working with you all from now on.\u201d He placed just one foot forward before all eyes shifted onto him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHello everyone,\u201d he said. They did not care. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHe has that look in his eyes,\u201d one whispered. \u201cIt\u2019s ambition,\u201d one said. \u201cIt\u2019s delusion,\u201d another said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n They had gone pale. Though Khalid would soon see firsthand what happens to ambition in this kitchen <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019ll do whatever needs to be done. I have no formal training but I am confident of my skills,\u201d Khalid proudly announced. <\/p>\n\n\n\n There was no response. The faces that Khaled could once see were all just roughly tied hair nets now. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGo to Amir, he\u2019s that one.\u201d She pointed. \u201cHe\u2019ll be in charge of you today.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Khalid walked with his head held high. At first his gaze fell to the animals; the lamb that was hung to smoke three days prior turning deep mahogany, the bucket of wings that needed\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n to be plucked, purged and prepared, the echoes of Styrofoam being slapped perpetually alerting Khalid of the fish that were taking their last breaths but most of all stood out the cow. It hung down from the ceiling, cut into three pieces separated at the hind, shoulders and mid region. The marbling on the shoulder of the cow looked immaculate, as if it had snowed over the meat and the white specks just settled in. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWatch where you\u2019re standing!\u201d He said as Khalid looked down and saw that his hand was placed on Amir\u2019s work station, right next to the chopping board. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cChef!\u201d Khalid announced and stood alert. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Amir was a tall skinny man, he reminded Khaled a lot of his elder brother. A few inches taller than Khaled but visibly slimmer. His beard was spotted black and grey, and the color of his eyes were unusual; a shade that Khaled had never seen before. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDon\u2019t call me that. No one calls anyone that. This isn\u2019t television.\u201d His back arching, his body folding as he couldn\u2019t control his laughter. \u201cYou\u2019re a snob. You don\u2019t belong here.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Khalid gaze turned from the copperware on the top shelves to the single spec of mint on the floor. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI really love to cook.\u201d His voice barely audible. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou think we\u2019re here because we love to cook?\u201d He placed his hand on the back of Khalid\u2019s head and turned him towards the rest of the kitchen. \u201cYou see her? Fatima\u2019s been here since the opening. She still can\u2019t afford the car that you drove here. She\u2019ll never be able to.\u201d Amir was loud enough for everyone to hear. <\/p>\n\n\n\n All Khalid could do was close his eyes.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt\u2019s not over. That\u2019s just one person. There\u2019s seventeen of us. If you\u2019re going to work here then you should know who you work with.\u201d He turned Khalid to a man that was pulling the bones out of a chicken neck. \u201cHim? He\u2019s Kamran. When your work is done with me, you\u2019re his responsibility. He earns 14,000 rupees a month. He comes in at 6:30 every morning and leaves at midnight. He doesn\u2019t get to see his daughter but at least he\u2019s sure she\u2019s getting a chance to go to school.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Kamran slammed his butchers\u2019 blade into the block of wood he was working on. It stood erect, demanding attention. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cEnough! He is a kid. If he wants to learn it is his decision. He did not come here to learn about inequality, he came here to cook. So let him.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n What could Khalid even say? He had just bought his girlfriend a bracelet that would\u2019ve cost Kamran two months of pay. He told himself it was on sale, it was only $200 so no reason not to get it for her. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Though at least Kamran had stopped Amir\u2019s onslaught. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Khaled walked to the front of the kitchen and stood on top of a crate of fruit. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019m not stupid and I\u2019m not a kid.\u201d He said. \u201cI will work hard. I will gain your respect. But you have to give me a chance. I\u2019m not here to replace anyone or to be paid. I didn\u2019t know that everyone was so underpaid here, but the truth is that if this place becomes better, then so will all your lives.\u201d He wasn\u2019t one to speak to people this way, and he found his knee shaking as he maintained his rigid posture. \u201cI\u2019ll work for free for two months. You can use my salary for family meals. That\u2019s fair.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n Kamran was the first to respond, \u201cNo you don\u2019t have to do any of this. Just work, son.\u201d There was a warmth to his voice, an encouraging one. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI want to. It\u2019s been five minutes we\u2019ve wasted having this conversation. Service is in three hours, so I don\u2019t want to interrupt anymore.\u201d With that Khalid went to Amir\u2019s station and took the knife Amir handed him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAll of those.\u201d He pointed at several baskets of produce. \u201cChop half the ginger finely, and julienne the other half. Wear gloves when you work with the green chilies, but I want them fine; hair like. Oh and don\u2019t forget to wash and peel all the mangoes you just stood on.\u201d He finished with a sarcastic little note, though Khalid could detect that there was less hostility there. <\/p>\n\n\n\n It took him thirty minutes to get the ginger done and another hour for the chilies. After he finished his prep, he put the vegetables into their prescribed spots and went to wash his hands. Immediately he heard Amir\u2019s voice. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThe board and the knife too, and wipe your station clean before you move onto fruit.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Khalid just nodded and continued his work. He walked over to the front once again and got the mangoes. Observing the speed at which Kamran was working, in the same time Khalid completed the ginger and chilies, Kamran had finished butchering two sides of lamb. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOi, Stop!\u201d Amir screamed across the kitchen. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Khaled\u2019s hands loosened their grip and he dropped the crate of mangoes. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou forgot to wear gloves. Go put your hands ice water right now, and then put gloves on,\u201d he continued.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n Khaled was in shock but he picked up the mangoes and placed them on his station before he followed Amir\u2019s instructions. No one said anything for a while, until the mangoes were done and it was time for Khalid to move to Kamran\u2019s station. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou know how to make a chicken wing into a lollipop?\u201d Kamran asked. Khalid shrugged but was observing Kamran intensely. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI can try,\u201d he said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Kamran shifted to the side of the big marble slab he sat on top of and pushed what appeared to be the stump of a tree towards Khalid. He placed down a few chicken wings and a sharp small knife. There was a moment of silence in the kitchen, Khalid could feel all the eyes on him. He embraced the challenge with confidence; taking off the right glove to get a strong grip of the knife and placing the wing in his other hand. He placed the edge of the blade on the bottom end of the bone and ran the knife around cutting the flesh down to the bone. Then he flipped the wing over and scraped the bone until the flesh separated from all but the top, quickly pulling it with his hand and leaving the chicken wing looking more like a chicken leg. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThat\u2019s impressive,\u201d Kamran said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThank you,\u201d he said. \u201cMy father used to leave me at the butchers every week for a few hours so that I would be comfortable with meat.\u201d He turned and continued to lollipop each wing with quick tenure. <\/p>\n\n\n\n As each hour passed, Khalid maneuvered through one task at a time, the only thing that was left for the end of service. It wasn\u2019t coincidence that there was a private party of twelve on the night of Khalid\u2019s first day. It was as if the universe had decided that today is the day that Khalid would be tested; not just as a chef but as an individual.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSon, would you please work as the waiter for the service?\u201d Kamran asked. \u201cThere has to be one of us with the guests so that we can constantly accommodate them.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOf course.\u201d In Khalid\u2019s eyes, it was a simple task, one he was happy to help Kamran <\/p>\n\n\n\n with. <\/p>\n\n\n\n With quick haste Khalid changed out of his apron into a crisp white shirt and took his place in front of the team. He asked them about the needs they have of him and then began the silence. Second after second feeling like prolonged moments, there was just constant silence. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cKhalid. Let\u2019s go,\u201d Akram let out. He led the waiting staff with authority. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Khalid followed him into the banquet room. It was closed off and there was a different kind of chill. There was a sharp prickly texture in the room as if all the hospitality and warmth of the guests had met its icy demise. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThey will come in thirty minutes and we will serve them in courses. After each fifteen minutes we will take out another course, and after the sixth course the bar will open. We plan to close at midnight, so the next two hours will be very difficult but do not forget that it is these guests that pay our bills and keep us fed.\u201d The entire staff was disappointed, but they solemnly nodded. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Two hours into service and the dessert course had been sent back two times. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat is that bald bastard doing? We keep making these goddamn Malpuras but they keep sending them back.\u201d Amir shouted and the sound echoed through the restaurant. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThey are drunk,\u201d Khalid said as he walked into the kitchen with another tray of soggy Malpuras and rubbing the hair on his head. \u201cThe sorbet is melting on it, and they aren\u2019t eating\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n it fast enough.\u201d He turned to Kamran, \u201cnot that they need to eat it quick, but as they drink more they wait more and it keeps going into the trash.\u201d He sighed. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnother round! And bring that dessert too.\u201d Someone shouted from the banquet <\/p>\n\n\n\n room. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHe sends this back and I\u2019ll scramble his brain.\u201d Amir <\/p>\n\n\n\n They sent another. Khalid brought back another rejected platter. \u201cEnough of this,\u201d he uttered with restraint. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Khalid began to walk to the banquet room, on his way he grabbed a fluted glass from the bar. In a few long strides he stood alert in front of them and tapped on the fluted glass with a fork; ringing for their attention. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWe\u2019ve been cooking for hours and serving you for the past two.\u201d He gazed into their collective line of sight. \u201cWe will fire dessert one more time, and after which we will close the kitchen. Does everyone understand?\u201d He stood there certain with his belief. <\/p>\n\n\n\n In the back of the kitchen Kamran asked Amir how Khalid could speak to the guests like that, finally understanding what Amir meant all this time. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Meanwhile back in the banquet room a scuffle had emerged. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHow dare you speak to us like this?\u201d some drunk slurred. \u201cGo do as you are told!\u201d he shouted. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Khalid did not yell. He calmly walked to the door and pushed the oak open. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cPlease exit. You are being asked to kindly leave the restaurant,\u201d he said with the most somber look in his eyes. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWe won\u2019t.\u201d Another drunk stuttered.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n Khalid turned to the kitchen and asked everyone to pack up and leave, then he turned back to the banquet room. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI won\u2019t ask again. You are on private property and you have been asked to leave, I will call the police if you fail to follow my instructions.\u201d This time he was cold. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWho do you think you are? Do you know what he could have done to this restaurant?\u201d The first one shouted again. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Their words brought no relevance to Khalid. He hadn\u2019t known the staff for but a day, but how could he be a coward? <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThese people work hours you could not fathom.\u201d He looked around and saw a blur of drunken stupor in front of him. \u201cTheir work ethic and their desperation is something you will never comprehend.\u201d The hissing of a pressure cooker took over. \u201cEven now they work and you just drink and discard. Discard your time, discard your money and discard our work.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Silence surrounded Khalid as the sound of water being poured over the pressure cooker disrupting the hissing steam flooded into the room. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The Faculty of Academic English Program\u2019s \u00c7i\u011fdem and Hossein Dabir Awards for Excellence in Short Fiction were presented to three of the seven 2022 and 2023 recipients at a ceremony on February 9.The award is intended for Bilkent students who display exceptional proficiency in the short fiction form. Current applicants[Read More…]<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":6370,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[4,80,153,133],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6335"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6335"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6335\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6393,"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6335\/revisions\/6393"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/6370"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6335"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6335"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bilkentnews.bilkent.edu.tr\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6335"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}