off and flew over the clouds. I felt exactly the same thing on that slope.)
As I speed down the hill as usual, I see my brother at the corner of the road. He is talking to a tall man I have never seen before.
I am wearing a big cap so that my hair does not fly in the wind. My father’s cap. (I usually throw away everything, but it seems I had not been able to let go of that cap. Recently, I found it at home, hidden in a corner. I couldn’t decide whether I should be happy or sad. I just sat there and cried, with the cap on my lap.)
Clouds are moving high above in the sky. White round clouds that make me think I could climb up on them and float far away, to distant unknown lands.
In the blink of an eye, I reach where my brother and the tall man are standing. Frightened that I will hit them, I quickly turn the bike and plunge to the ground.
As I stand up, trying to tidy myself, my brother laughs and says to the man, “And this is my little sister.” I blush and stare at the ground.
The man looks like an actor. His slightly graying sideburns are in pleasing harmony with his dark blue eyes. He’s wearing a khaki brown jacket with a leather collar. Underneath, he has a thick turtleneck sweater. I lift my head to look at him. His eyes glow in the wintry light. I can’t tell whether they are harsh or soft, or if they are looking at me or far into the distance. He turns to my brother and says with a mocking smile, “Your little sister is a bit mischievous, it seems.”
Is it funny that the first word I heard from him was about my “mischievousness”?
Well, that was how it happened.
Who would have known?
As we were walking home, I said to my brother, “What a cold man!”
“Cold?” he laughed. “Mr. Fuat? What do you know! All the women in Ankara are in love with him.”
I remember that the same night, in the dark, I thought about him as I slowly fell asleep.
I fantasized that one day I would suddenly appear in front of him, and he would be surprised and not know how to react when I told him that I was that boyish, mischievous girl who had not caught even a bit of his attention in the past.
My beauty would astonish him, and he would be unable to decide what to do or how to act.
If you wonder whether I really fantasized that, let me tell you the truth: I did, imagining it like a movie in my mind’s eye. The scene is still vivid in my memory.
However, the strange thing was not a fourteen-year-old girl’s daydreaming, but what was to happen afterwards.
I pulled the blanket all the way over my head.
So, he is the man with whom all the women are in love?
But of course, this was just a dream to last a single night. It was nothing more than a young girl’s fantasy no one knew about, a tale she wrote, or a film she created in her own mind.
Now we should put the pieces in their places and draw back a little so that we can see the whole picture better.
During my school years, my father used to tell me that I “walked on air.” My friends were always amazed at the things I did. It was true that I was walking on air. I still do the same. All I lacked was a couple of wings. I really don’t understand why I didn’t care a bit about all the rules people thought important and tried hard to comply with.
I have always admired the heroines in novels who do things others can’t. If you don’t do what others cannot, you can’t be a heroine in the first place, can you? You can only be one of those people who read about the life of a heroine in a book.
But no, I was sure I wanted to be one those women: someone who does not read about another’s life and daydreams, but is the heroine of an adventure who can make her dreams come true.
I thought so when I was just a little girl. Since the nights I imagined those dreams.
Can a human change his destiny? I decided to create my own destiny. That’s why I did things no one thought I would. I tried to build a future for myself that I desired. Maybe everything has happened just because of this. Sometimes I suspect it. Maybe that great power I challenged wanted to tell me that only He was capable of determining human destiny.
In fact, life was difficult.
I realized this much later. Had I known it earlier, would I have been so hasty in starting a new life for myself?
I was a senior in high school. One day, when I came home from school, my mother told me, “Your Aunt Süheyla will visit us tomorrow. She’ll have another family with her. I’ve heard that their son works for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. He has been appointed to a diplomatic position in America. I think he saw you outside one day.”
“What do you mean? Will he ask me to marry him?” I was shocked.
“Yes, but if you ask my opinion, I’m not in favor of it. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to go so far away. Nevertheless, we cannot ask them not to visit. Let them come. We can ask for time to think and then send them a negative answer in the proper way.”
“I won’t marry anyone. Why should I? How could you come up with such a strange idea?” I was furious.
“My dear, nobody’s telling you to get married, but this is the way things happen. You have grown up, and you have to get used to the fact that people will ask for your hand in marriage.”
“I’ll never get used to it!”
A world map signed by
“How? By boat, of course!” said my brother.
“I bet it lasts too long.
I’d immediately get seasick.”
“Hey, I think you are willing to get married but you’re putting on an act! I will never hand over my dear sister to a stranger, let alone allow her to go to the other end of the world.”
“Are you kidding? I only asked because I was curious. What on earth would I do there with a total stranger? Think of it! Besides, did you forget that I’m going to enroll in Türk Kuşu to become a pilot? I’ll soar in the sky in my plane and fly over you while you’re riding your horse.”
“That sounds more like you. I wouldn’t believe my eyes if I saw you cooking in the kitchen.”
“God forbid!”
The lights in our house were always on. They still are, even today. Wherever I live, the rooms are always filled with light. Perhaps this habit was born out of the distress and darkness of the war years.
“What is this again? The whole house is like a torchlight procession!” my mother always grumbled, yet my father never turned the lights off.
When all the lights in the house are on, I go back to those days. I feel as if I have always been there with my parents and my brother, with whom I continuously joked, and I feel that I’m not alone.
I’m scared of loneliness.
I cannot sleep when the lights are off.
I have never wanted to be left alone. But here I am, in solitude. I feel isolated even when surrounded by many people. All alone, I turn on all the lights