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CLOUD
The last cloud of the deluge that has ceased!
Only you wander in the light blue sky
The lonely, cheerless shadow is yours.
Only you upset the cheerful day.
A minute ago you covered the whole sky,And the thunder surrounded you in fright
You spread your mysterious growl,And fed the greedy earth with rain.
Enough, go away! Your work is done now.
The earth is refreshed, and the deluge has run away.
And the wind while caressing the leaves,Is kicking you out of that peaceful sky.
If you happen to remember, I told you about what I went through in Ankara Mamak in my second letter, the one titled “Should Hasim have a poem, too?”. If you can’t remember, don’t you worry. I am thinking of documenting this era and sharing it with you by publishing a book with the letters I wrote, the answers I got from you, and as a surprise the diaries I held here, the pictures that my friend “photo” Hidayet Erol took, and even the poems I wrote. One can dream even in the army.. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?
Today it has been one year since I went to Ankara Mamak and started doing my military service. It has been a whole year. When I look back I of course remember a lot of things, I am planning to mention them shortly during my project. But what affected me most in the very beginning were the clouds. Let the poem of A.S. Puschkin above be for the memory of that first day. However, I won’t be able to chase them like the poet, since we are involved too much in each other’s history.
Well Bedri Baykam must have liked that letter because it was published in the Skala magazine’s January 2003 issue. In my article that was published in the magazine there is a sentence where the phrase “my dear father” comes up, I remebered by father no matter if I wanted to or not. And I went as far as waking him up quite early the next morning to ask him how he was doing. After hanging up, I wished I had a photograph of him. It’s weird we never had a picture taken together. No wonder why we didn’t do that like we didn’t do many other things! Now that I remember my father, let me tell you about the first time I saw him after years and about the moments I had when I met my little brother for the first time.
You know people say families have “sides”, I haven’t seen my father’s side for 6 years. Why? I’ll tell you about that later. My master, Ekrem Kahraman, was constantly pushing me telling me that I had to see my father before leaving to do my military service or else I shouldn’t say goodbye to him. I thought I would get away with it until the last day, but it didn’t work out that way!
Being stubborn, I wouldn’t call and talk to him, so my dear sister Tulay arranged the meeting. She planned where and when I would meet my father. My father apparently first said he was busy and did not want to meet me but later he called saying “let’s meet”. Maybe he really was busy, leaving the meeting until the last day was kind of short notice. The time was coming, after a point all I had to do was to go with the plan. Where we were going to meet was in front of the Taksim flowerists where I used to go out to buy some flowers late at night for my studio. I liked that. I would do those kinds of crazy things from time to time, fill the studio with daisies and chrysanthemums at night, and watch them with excitement the next morning while having breakfast. I would get great pleasure and joy from their scents.
In spite of that, my father had come to the meeting point before me. I was nervous, I had taken my friend Celal Salman with me because I was frightened I would say or do something wrong. Well you don’t know, but me and my friends tease each other; Celal sometimes also acts as a substitude for the self control I don’t have. We were at the meeting point, I saw two people sitting in a white car parked on the right side of the street. The one in the driver’s seat was my father, and the other one was my grandfather. When they noticed me, they got out of the car, we hugged each other, my grandfather started crying. To be honest, I felt weird. I introduced Celal to my father and my grandfather. We chatted a bit. I most confess that I had missed my grandmother the most. I know they all went through a lot because of my naughtiness but i had upset my grandmother a lot! I took a peek in the car, she wasn’t there! I asked my grandfather about her. He said “She has problems with her feet. That’s why she couldn’t come, let’s go to her”. First I started to object but then I came eye to eye with Celal for 2-3 seconds. I still remember Celal’s secret smile that said “okay”. However, I was still thinking if we were being too intimate after not having seen each other for so many years. I said to myself “for my grandmother’s sake” and jumped in the car. We went down Tarlabasi street towards Dolapdere where the house was. I was sitting uncomfortably at the back of the car; my sister on my left, and Celal on my right. We started to chat. My grandfather had by coincidence heard about the exhibition I had at the Fine Arts Gallery, and he had gone to see it. He even confessed that he liked my paintings. Before long, we were in front of the house. It is 10 minutes from Taksim to Okmeydani…
Everything was as I had expected; the interior of the building was the same color, the big gate in the entrance was the same blue, and there were still wooden tables and cupboard pieces here and there inside the building. Nothing had changed since my childhood. My grandfather would constantly get the iron painted the same bead blue, and I would say “Grandpa let’s change this color a little, add some black to it or use another kind of blue”. You can’t even propose a color other than blue.I would be successful to some extent. Because in the end, there were two people who could do the job; either me or my uncle’s son Serdar. We were both sick of living with those colors. Our house was in Okmeydani. At the time, also because it was a banlieu like area, I was sick of seeing bead blue on every store’s shutters, champagne color on every house’s walls and the word “trust” on every store name. We slowly climbed the stairs to the first floor. We rang the doorbell, the door was opened, my grandfather who went in the house turned right and exclaimed “look who we brought you” to my grandmother. I understood later that it was my father’s new wife who had opened the door, would that be my stepmother? How would I know, I was seeing her for the first time!
My grandmother had had enough of my naughtiness, she started crying when she saw me, I think she kissed me and caressed my hair for ten minutes.It turned out they did not let anyone in the house with their shoes on. I was the first one to break the rule. I am not used to the house life, you know it is not very common to take your shoes off in our studios. Habits…
I found an amchair in a corner and took a seat. The whole family, my grandmother, my uncle and his kids, my grandfather, my father and his wife, my nephews, were stuffed in the living room. Celal was sitting in front of me on the left, I secretly looked at him; my dear Celal and I have a secret language of looks. This time Celal looked at me as if to say “ok little bird, be patient, I’ll handle this” People started to chat, and I knew they would come to talking about how naughty I was when I was little. My grandmother was just talking about those when my father came in holding a little child. He came closer to me and said “Look, you never saw Turgay” What should I say? I was quite stunned. I had heard that he had another son but had no idea he looked so much like me. That was the reason why I was astonished! I watched Turgay a bit, and I listened to what was being said about him. Well the similarities were unbelievable ; he had the same grumpiness, stubbornness and naughtiness. Turgay Takmaz was five years old.
...We had our tea, we had to leave, I had to say goodbye to dear Bedri Baykam. Celal stood up, we kissed everyone and shook hands. I went down the stairs smelling the scent of that place and remembering my childhood. My father left us where he had picked us up, by the flowerists. We went straight to have some raki with Celal, i made a toast to my little brother. Ooh what a night it was... Finally...
A couple of hours later we met Bedri Baykam. This time my dear friend Baris Saribas was with me, we paid a visit to his house, had a coffee together and chatted. Before I forget, I want to tell you about the paintings I did on the catalogue of the exhibiton Bedri Baykam had when I was in Istanbul called “Female Intrigues” some time. If there is a gallerist who is brave enough to exhibit them, let them come forward!
Kisses to all of you.
Love from Artvin Hopa.
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