“All that’s missing is the popcorn,” quipped Nefise, and shut the office door.
“Nefise, what I meant to say was …”
Unable to endure the inner fire that consumed her any longer, Nefise kissed Argun ardently. The first kiss gave rise to another, practically without interruption, just a fleeting opening and closing of her eyes, and then something completely unexpected occurred: Burak appeared in the doorway and knew at once, beholding this passionate kiss, that his prospects of marriage to Nefise were ruined forever. Within a few weeks he had moved to Istanbul for good.
12
In the middle of the night, hearing the creak of the door, Argun awoke from a light sleep and opened his eyes to the darkness of his room. Lit by the faint light of moon and stars passing through the fabric of the curtains, the figure of a young woman with long hair appeared in the doorway, someone he knew well. It was Leyla, who placed her finger to her lips then gestured for him to follow her. He threw aside the covers, got out of bed and followed her out of the room on silent feet. Each step was surrounded by dream-like profiles. He walked as though enchanted by this dark young girl with bright eyes, so vivid and shimmering, and continued down the hall and the stairs, and more stairs, until finally he reached the door to outside, and stepped out into the starry night. Leyla then glanced back at him and without uttering a word, broke into a run at a fast and happily measured pace. Argun followed, keeping up with her. His lungs opened to the mild, damp night air that hung over the deserted street corners. They ran for several minutes, with him always just a few meters behind her. He let himself be led along without holding back, fearing nothing, worried at nothing. The dim surrounding colors vanished swiftly. Nearby always the murmur of the waves from the silver sea. The warmth of the night and his recent waking from the depths of sleep kept his mind in a state of sweet torpor, and so he pressed on making no attempt to reason, just a pair of legs running mechanically, his eyes locked on Leyla and the road she left behind. They ran for a good twenty minutes, until they stopped by the sea at a beach enclosed by rocks. He stopped beside her, seeing the silver sea and foaming waves bathed in the white glowing moonlight. Was this what she wanted to show him, or was there something more? It was then that she said to him enigmatically,
“I’ve done my job. You stay here.”
Argun was about to protest but she ran off and vanished into the night. He heard someone approaching behind him and turning, saw Nefise, emerging as if by magic like a goddess from the sea, wrapped in a thin white dress. In the moonlight her beautiful womanly silhouette stood out. If this was a dream, then he wanted to live immersed in this dream forever.
On a mild night there is no better blanket than a clear and starry sky. Gazes that can be understood with no need for words. The silence of the sea. A complicit kiss. The complicit night. The beach. A majestic woman, fearless, trembling with life, authentic. The scent of sexual love. A man reborn with his soul washed clean. A dip in the sea in the moonlight under a starry sky. The soft roar of the waves and naked bodies feeling the surge of the waves. Bodies dripping salt water seizing each other, kissing, exploring. The taste of freedom. Love.
“I love you, Nefise. I want to stay here with you forever.”
“Don’t say a word. Don’t speak. Let the sea and the stars speak for us.”
It was then that a swarm of mysterious butterflies with tiny wings colored an intense red approached the young lovers, appearing from out of nowhere, or perhaps from out of the depths of the imagination or from the love reigning in that place. But neither Argun nor Nefise seemed the least perturbed by their circling flight around them. Somehow, these bizarre butterflies, like everything else at just that moment, seemed joined together in perfect harmony, synchronized with the world as by a single voice. If there were butterflies, if the earth shook and spun, if sensations blinded them, to all of this they surrendered completely in the fullness of their senses. Never before had either of them experienced such sensations as they became aware of them with their entire being, for just now reason lay fast asleep within them, having toppled defenseless into the arms of Morpheus.
13
Early one languid afternoon following a pleasant lunch, Nefise flopped into the hammock enjoying the pleasant cool of the shade, reading Gustave Flaubert’s Madame Bovary, fully translated into Turkish. She was spellbound by Emma Bovary’s missteps in her quest for happiness amid the unfolding vicissitudes of her life. As Emma emerged from her stifling daily existence, Nefise seemed to step onto a flying carpet taking her to France, Italy, beautiful palaces, riches, waltzes, minuets, earls, dukes and counts, viscounts and other enchanted premises. It wasn’t the wealth that she found so seductive, but rather the unknown. She wanted to see the world. She had never been persuaded that her happiness was simply confined to this island where she had spent all her life. She was certain that life had more to offer her, a splendid and unending series of people, places and feelings she wanted to know and experience. Just as Emma Bovary had been rescued by the invitation of the Marquis de Andervilliers from monochromatic tedium to the vibrant colors of palace life in all its sumptuousness, so Nefise felt now that something very similar had happened in her own life with the arrival of Argun, who seemed to have been shipwrecked on that island for her and her alone. Who could he be? Where could he have come from? She longed to discover these new landscapes wherever it was that he came from, she wanted to explore this side of the world by his side, she yearned to be a nomad in the territories of his mysterious past, where surely there must be many languages, many voyages, many worlds, many adventures, many emotions. She looked to the future with the certainty that living by Argun’s side would open the door for her to all this great multiplicity of unexplored worlds, as soon as his memory returned.
After the previous night’s magic on the beach she had exchanged passionate glances with him at breakfast and lunch, but after lunch her father had claimed Argun for the rest of the day to show him the growing splendor of his property, as well as other businesses he had in mind. In the midst of her reading, Nefise had stopped at a passage in Madame Bovary where she read, Her trip to Vaubyessard had dug a hole in her life, like those great gouges that a storm sometimes carves in the mountains in a single night. She had stopped at this passage because, deep inside, she felt that Argun’s arrival might have the same effect on her own life. She need only do nothing, only follow her instinct and her heart. Drunk in this sea of daydreams, she let herself slip into a light sleep, deeply satisfied at allowing herself to succumb so fearlessly to the talons of this new passion.
14
Gökçeada, Turkey
June 2002
“I have never been treated so well in all my life.”
“You don’t even remember what your life was like…”
“That’s true, but even so, I feel that what I’m saying is true. You treat me like a son. Several times I’ve asked myself whether it must be a miracle of God that I am unable to remember my former life. Particularly since, whenever I make an effort to remember, I get a terrible headache right away.
Okan and Argun had gone to a mosque, and once inside, crossing a cool, broad patio, they went into a small, rectangular, high-ceilinged room that was used for religious instruction, where they waited for the imam and reflected.
“You still have no memory at all of your life before the shipwreck on this island, is that right?” asked Okan abruptly, though clearly his mind was occupied with what he meant to ask next. Even as he noted this, Argun answered him.
“That’s right. That is, except for these incoherent echoes of memories that come to me from time to time.”
“Very well. Yet even without the existence of this memory, in your present circumstances right now, do you feel the existence of God? Be sincere.”
“I promise to be as sincere as I can. It’s true that when I awoke with amnesia, I experienced very powerful sensations. My ears clearly caught the sound of the sea as though there were a seashell in m
y ears, my eyes observed the blue sky and a few sparse clouds traversing the sky, slowly making and unmaking a number of white shapes... my mind was far away... as though the rational part of me were entirely absent and I was nothing but spirit. After that, I remember lowering my eyes to see what was before me, and it was then that I saw the most beautiful thing that I ever remember seeing: your daughter, Nefise. And beside her, like an angel, Leyla. At those instants I felt myself to be in pure harmony with everything in the world, and I will never forget that day. It’s something that every man should experience one day, that plenitude, that feeling of being in perfect communion with the world. Even now, with each day that goes by, most of the moments I spend with Nefise are absolutely magical.”
“Most moments?”
“It’s impossible to say that all moments are alike, that the emotion in all moments is constant, I would be lying if I categorically affirmed that, and I promised that I would be absolutely sincere in my words, but it is true that there is a constant warmth that warms my soul, and I know this is something that she gives me.”
“I know what you’re talking about. Passion and love. The intensity of passion is not linear, but don’t give that too much importance. This vigorous clamor of the flame of passion will not always stay the same, but love will. Love is beyond that flame, it’s what remains after it. It’s what you start to feel once the flame of passion gives way to the soft breeze of love.”
Argun listened intently to these final words, but Okan clearly wished to steer the conversation in another direction.
“Be that as it may, you still haven’t been able to clearly answer my question: have you felt at any time the existence of God, a love that is in all things on Earth, a higher power that moves all things and all people, a presence that is everywhere?”
“Yes, it seems to me I have felt that very force, but … I do not wish to seem rude or disrespectful...”
“Speak.”
“That force has not presented itself to me in any sort of form that I could identify. There is a higher power that moves all things, a momentum that cannot be stopped, like time itself, I can even say that this love is present in all things on earth, but there is no single presence concentrated in a single being or even in a single form of which I can say, there is God. If it is in that sense that you are asking me, then I have not seen God.
“He has only presented Himself to certain men over the course of history, and the man through whose intermediation He decided to manifest Himself and speak most directly to men was Mohammed. He is His Messenger. And that is what we Muslims believe, and if you wish to marry my daughter you will have to learn what Islam is. Do you intend to marry her?”
“Yes, and I am willing to learn about your religion.”
Just then, shuffling steps could be heard approaching until a thin elderly man with a long gray bear appeared in the doorway. A small, round high white hat was perched upon his head. He was bent over as he walked and leaning on a cane. Despite this fragile appearance, his eyes were very lively, and he trained them on Argun as he came in the door, studying him before uttering a word. Then Okan greeted him, and he promptly reciprocated. Having done this, the imam went straight to the matter at hand.
“So this is the castaway?”
“Yes.”
“Then please leave us alone.”
Argun watched Okan as he left the room.
“I’ll be out here when you’re done. Whatever is said in here is for you alone.”
Saying this, Okan went out the door. Once alone with the religious sage, the castaway greeted him respectfully and was about to introduce himself when he was abruptly interrupted:
“I know very well who you are.”
These words caught Argun off guard.
“I know you are the castaway who washed ashore a few months back. I know you have no idea of your past. You are in love and want to learn about Islam, the faith of the woman with whom you have fallen in love, and of the family that took you in.”
“Yes. Basically, that’s it.”
“You’re driven by impulse, aren’t you? Driven by strong emotion?”
“I don’t know... I don’t remember my past.”
“I’m not talking about the past.”
“In that case, perhaps.”
“Perhaps is no word for you, lad. You’re not one for half measures.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I already know certain things about you. I asked Okan some questions. So I can imagine that your past was guided by your passions in the past, just as your present is guided by your passions in the present.
“Should I deduce that that’s a good thing?”
“That depends on what your passions were in the past. If they were positive passions that led you to be a better person, to spread justice and goodness, well then, you must have good things in your past. If, on the other hand, your passions in the past were different…”
“Why do you make that face?”
“Never mind.”
“I can assure you that my intentions with regard to Okan, Nefise and Leyla are the best. They really are family to me.”
“We’ve already talked too much. I’m here to teach you about Islam.”
“Don’t you have any advice to give me? Any vision about my future?”
“I’m no clairvoyant. I’m just someone who knows about Islam and that’s the wisdom I’m going to pass on to you. In any case, I know a few things about life, born of my knowledge of human nature, and as you must agree, I’ve been around for quite a while.”
“And what do you advise me to do?”
“There’s no point in giving you any advice. You follow your passions blindly. Nothing I can tell you will change your destiny. I only hope sincerely that in the past you were moved by good passions because sooner or later, you’ll have to deal with that.”
“But aren’t we all guided all our lives by our passions?”
“No. Some of us renounce them because something here inside” – the sage pointed his finger at his head – “tells us that this is the wisest thing to do. Or the least risky. Most of us hate to take risks, sometimes we don’t have the courage to face fear or the unknown, but not you, you’re not like that.”
“That sounds good to me.”
“Following your emotions so fervently can also lead to great madness. History is crawling with examples. One must know how to temper the passions, temper the spirit. Someone who doesn’t know how to temper them becomes more vulnerable.”
“I’m willing to learn.”
“You’re enjoying living in the present just the way it is. You have nothing to worry about. You’re well looked after at Okan’s house. If something is going to happen, there will be signs, and he will tell me. As for your past, the thing is that nothing can be done to wipe it out.”
“Then let’s hope that it was good.”
“All right, but enough chit-chat. Let’s get to the lesson.”
15
The imam said to Argun:
“Islam does not ask its followers to accept anything at all without first questioning, our very existence is open to critical scrutiny. You will only arrive at genuine faith when you ponder, as I know that you are capable of doing, the way that God manifests Himself, how he sends signs through the laws of nature, of the material universe and the spiritual universe that is within you. The word Islam means peace and submission, but this submission cannot be completely passive, and this peace cannot be reached without justice. The Muslim always has the duty to endeavor to fight for justice, whether at the social level or political levels, and for this reason social and political activism also go hand in hand with Islam. I’ll teach you all this little by little. This is the religion of the woman you love, of her sister and her father who brought you to me, and the way to be part of their lives.”
“I understand, and I will try to learn with the utmost zeal and attention.”
“Well then, the first thing that a
Muslim must say sincerely is the Shahadah, the testimony: there is no divinity other than God and Mohammed is His prophet. However, you will never be able to say this sincerely without first knowing the story of Mohammed, and that’s what I’m going to tell you about today, nothing more.”
“According to Islam, Adam was not just the first man on earth but also the first prophet. After him others came, like Abraham and Jesus, and finally, Mohammed. Thus, Jews and Christians, followers of other prophets, are also believers in God, but only someone who accepts the prophecy of Mohammed is a Muslim. His word, through which God manifested Himself, is in the wonderful book that he left written for us all – the Koran – and in the compilation of what the Prophet did over the course of his life, and what he said to those he lived with – this is to be found in the Sunnah.
“Mohammed came into the world in the year 570, in the city-state of Mecca, dominated at that time by the polytheist and pagan Quraysh tribe. Mohammed’s father died before he was born, and his mother died before he reached the age of six. As an adolescent, it is said that he was a somewhat solitary lad. He found refuge, isolated from the rest of the world, in the caves and deserts in the vicinity of Mecca. He contemplated matters such as the absence of law in his surroundings, the terrible tribal wars and the dreadful infanticide of girls. With the passage of time, he earned a reputation for great honesty and compassion. At twenty-five he married Khadija, who was a widow, and fifteen years older than he was. They made an amicable pair, companions and very much in love, and of this union, four daughters and two sons were born. The boys, however, died while they were still children. Mohammed’s propensity to seek refuge in caves never left him, nor did his deep distress about questions of morality and justice in the society around him. He saw with great concern the selfishness, cruelty and moral degradation that prevailed all around him.
The Miracle of Yousef: Historical and political thriller Page 28