Thursday, 18 August 2011


It was summer, dark clouds were coming. The meteorological department had predicted rain. Smooth wind was blowing, but the expected rain wasn’t there still. It was evening, but not dark. Feriha was sitting in the balcony of her fourth floor flat. She was wearing a half sleeved long white dress with large green polka dots on it. She had bought that dress recently from the Sunday bazaar.

She was sipping tea from her cup. She was not too used to drinking the Turkish coffee. Tea was hot, and in the slightly changing evening weather, the warmth of tea was providing her a nice satisfaction. She was relaxing. There was a small wooden table in the balcony. That was the place that she always liked to sit. Frequently she had been taking her dinner at the same place.

Four floors down, the life on Istiklal Boulevard was hectic as always. There was a big rush. Buses, taxis, trams, filled with people, going in every direction, as if
they had lost the sense of direction. Far away was the Kadikoy ferry boat station which she could not see from her balcony, but she did know the hush of public over there.

Everybody appeared rushing to catch the ferry, to cross over to the western Istanbul. Some were trying to get the tickets; some were waiting for their ships to come. With the arrival of every ferry boat, the activity over there increased. Hundreds of people coming out, swiftly scattering over the already crowded Istiklal Boulevard, and from there to the by lanes, and to distant places far east.

Feriha, finished her tea, and stood on her feet. She looked down, Mehmet and Deniz , her new tenants, were crossing the road, holding each others hands, as always

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