The nation is in distress.
The sultan is making life changing decisions for a huge country with the blink of an eye, seeking out his own, personal benefits.
On the other hand, over at the West, the great, powerful nations of that time swarm upon "the sick man", trying to rip out and gorge down as much of it as possible.
The so-called "peace" conferences give no results, well, none helping the war-bound collapsing nation.
And the day the city over two continents, the city long lusted after by great commanders, gets invaded, a young Turkish man arrives there, late afternoon, on a small boat, from a mission in Syria, looks at the besieged city and says, "they will leave as they have came".
And then and there, the first steps towards the resurrection of a nation began, with one man on the lead.
He went to different cities of the nation and issued notices, set up conferences allying the forces from all around the nation, and, after great trouble; being removed from duty, being sentenced to death by the sultan, with many of his friends, Istanbul's invasion (yes, again), the newly re-established "parliament" "working with" the sultan being destroyed and its members being banished, he manages to open a brand new parliament, one that does not obey the laws of caliphate and religion, or is bound to a sultan, in Ankara.
23rd of April, 1920.
A handful of members, on a sunny Friday, first go to the mosque to prove the Istanbul government wrong in saying "they follow no religion", then to the new parliament building, and with the inspiring speech of the oldest delegate in the house, the parliament is in action. Shortly after, this "man", this young Turk who rallied the public and managed to almost force a nation to be reborn from its ashes, is chosen as the head of the parliament, thus the head of the new government system, unanimously. A new system, a new hope, a new country.
This man is Mustafa Kemal Atatürk.
And yesterday, in Turkey, we celebrated this day, at least we tried to, a day which Mustafa Kemal has awarded the children of Turkey with, and we will continue to celebrate it no matter what.
Yes, maybe there were no grand ceremonies at Olympic stadiums, as there were until two years ago. Yes, maybe the new government is doing everything at its power to stop us from celebrating days like this and forget what we celebrate and under which ideals. Yes, maybe this national holiday is now regarded as a chance for a quick escape to the seaside, joining the weekend, say, a five-day holiday. Yes, maybe, even in our school, we celebrated the 23rd of April on the 22nd, so that we won't "have to" go to school on the 23rd.
Nevertheless, we, at least those of us who remain true to their ideals and loyal to their nation, the youth of our nation, will continue to carry on the legacy of Mustafa Kemal and everyone who worked hard with him, and never, ever stop celebrating. And we will neither the forget 23rd of April, 19th of May, nor the great man and his ideals. We will not forget.
Showing posts with label time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label time. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Changing Photographs
Year 1999
Lots of food on the table. The house is decorated with cheesy, shining ornaments soaked in glitter. Smiling faces. Many faces. The little girl at the center, putting up her act, laughing because she knows she should smile when someone stands in front of her with a camera. Her brother is at the back, acting cool, displaying a crooked smile, anxious to get into the Santa Claus suit and surprise his little sister. Who they call "mom" is on the left, with tired eyes but a true smile. She's happy to be there and to have been able to cook the turkey in time for dinner. Her mother is sitting at the head of the table, with blue eyes and a sincere smile. She wishes her husband could be there, and puts her arm around her other, older daughter. She, the aunt of the children, makes sure there is no lipstick on her teeth and cuddles in with her mother. The uncle of the children and his wife are on the sides; they, too, are smiling. They wish their children, who have long left their nests and have started to build their own by themselves, could be there with them, like the old days. The father of the children, with the dark, black mustache is behind the camera; you can't see him, but you know he's there-smiling, and fidgeting with the camera. His mother is sitting next to his wife's mother, with her husband, who has grown old with her. Their eyes which have seen much, much more than anyone at the table glimmer with their small smiles. The two nieces of the grandmother are at the back, hugging each other; sisters, smiling pleasantly, happy to be together.
Year 2013
Lots of food on the table. The house has some ornaments hung up here and there, but you can see that they're out-of-date. Smiling faces. But not a lot of them. The father on the far left hand side, smiling, his black mustache now gone gray, sits next to his wife. She has tired eyes, and is glad she's managed to make everything she'd planned to make. She is smiling, her head cocked to the side, thinking of all those people who aren't there that last night of 2013. The little girl has become a teenager and is spending new year's eve at home for the last time; she doesn't believe in Santa Claus anymore. She has just set the camera's timer and has raced to her designated spot; she's smiling, but she really wishes her brother could be there. Her brother, now 25, is off in some forgotten little town, serving the army, completing his compulsory army service. Their grandmother, on the mother side, is sitting at the head of the table on her own. Her smile has somewhat faded, she misses her husband and her older daughter who don't have an excuse for not being there, she has lost too much to a disgusting, dire, despairing disease. The grandmother on the father's side isn't there; she's gotten too old to climb the stairs to her son's apartment, and has chosen to spend her 95th new year's eve at home, alone. The uncle and his wife are in another town, with their children and grandchildren. The two nieces of the grandmother are at the back, hugging each other; sisters, smiling pleasantly, happy to be together. Everyone thinks of all the people who aren't there that night, especially the ones without excuses-tears well up in their eyes-they blink them away, because they know you're supposed to smile at the camera...
***
The one thing I don't like about new year's eve, exaggerated by profit-seeking entrepreneurs and foreign traditions, is that you get to- actually, you're forced to- reflect on the previous year; and it may not always hold nice stuff. The photos from these evenings are slices from your life, the perfect snapshot to sum it all up; every 31st of December, we do the same things: the menu is mostly the same, the purpose is always the same, but the people in the pictures change- and disappear, some, forever. So be happy with what you have now, because you may not be able to find it in next year's photo of new year's eve.
Lots of food on the table. The house is decorated with cheesy, shining ornaments soaked in glitter. Smiling faces. Many faces. The little girl at the center, putting up her act, laughing because she knows she should smile when someone stands in front of her with a camera. Her brother is at the back, acting cool, displaying a crooked smile, anxious to get into the Santa Claus suit and surprise his little sister. Who they call "mom" is on the left, with tired eyes but a true smile. She's happy to be there and to have been able to cook the turkey in time for dinner. Her mother is sitting at the head of the table, with blue eyes and a sincere smile. She wishes her husband could be there, and puts her arm around her other, older daughter. She, the aunt of the children, makes sure there is no lipstick on her teeth and cuddles in with her mother. The uncle of the children and his wife are on the sides; they, too, are smiling. They wish their children, who have long left their nests and have started to build their own by themselves, could be there with them, like the old days. The father of the children, with the dark, black mustache is behind the camera; you can't see him, but you know he's there-smiling, and fidgeting with the camera. His mother is sitting next to his wife's mother, with her husband, who has grown old with her. Their eyes which have seen much, much more than anyone at the table glimmer with their small smiles. The two nieces of the grandmother are at the back, hugging each other; sisters, smiling pleasantly, happy to be together.
Year 2013
Lots of food on the table. The house has some ornaments hung up here and there, but you can see that they're out-of-date. Smiling faces. But not a lot of them. The father on the far left hand side, smiling, his black mustache now gone gray, sits next to his wife. She has tired eyes, and is glad she's managed to make everything she'd planned to make. She is smiling, her head cocked to the side, thinking of all those people who aren't there that last night of 2013. The little girl has become a teenager and is spending new year's eve at home for the last time; she doesn't believe in Santa Claus anymore. She has just set the camera's timer and has raced to her designated spot; she's smiling, but she really wishes her brother could be there. Her brother, now 25, is off in some forgotten little town, serving the army, completing his compulsory army service. Their grandmother, on the mother side, is sitting at the head of the table on her own. Her smile has somewhat faded, she misses her husband and her older daughter who don't have an excuse for not being there, she has lost too much to a disgusting, dire, despairing disease. The grandmother on the father's side isn't there; she's gotten too old to climb the stairs to her son's apartment, and has chosen to spend her 95th new year's eve at home, alone. The uncle and his wife are in another town, with their children and grandchildren. The two nieces of the grandmother are at the back, hugging each other; sisters, smiling pleasantly, happy to be together. Everyone thinks of all the people who aren't there that night, especially the ones without excuses-tears well up in their eyes-they blink them away, because they know you're supposed to smile at the camera...
***
The one thing I don't like about new year's eve, exaggerated by profit-seeking entrepreneurs and foreign traditions, is that you get to- actually, you're forced to- reflect on the previous year; and it may not always hold nice stuff. The photos from these evenings are slices from your life, the perfect snapshot to sum it all up; every 31st of December, we do the same things: the menu is mostly the same, the purpose is always the same, but the people in the pictures change- and disappear, some, forever. So be happy with what you have now, because you may not be able to find it in next year's photo of new year's eve.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
I Want My Hour Back
60 minutes, 3600 seconds,
I lost my hour,
I want my hour,
Give it back.
Today, I lost an hour because of the summer time application; "Better utilization of the day hours!"
An hour I would have perhaps used to study for the physics exam on Wednesday.
An hour I would have perhaps used to finish The Shire Theme arrangement for the piano I've been working on for two weeks-more like planning to work on for two weeks.
An hour I would have perhaps used to SLEEP.
And where has it gone?
Just thrown away into the space, the endless void beyond the stars we see at night?
Time does that to you. It confuses you, it creates problems we really don't need right now.
Time passes. Only it passes slower when I'm in math class, and faster when I'm in physics or music. Or it doesn't really "pass" when we're asleep. We close our eyes, it is dark, we open them, it is day, and the only crumbs of memory we have are dreams, flashing, vivid pictures, which are seconds long. What happened to the rest of the time?
Time travel is another issue of concern. If it was invented in the future, we would have known by now, because a man in a space suit with six fingers on each of his hand would've stumbled into the middle of the Walmart claiming he is from the future. One of my favorite movie series is Back to the Future, in which whatever Marty does affects his life in the future, as he tries to get back to it.
They cannot really explain how time works, and how it seems to take FOREVER for the video game to load, but it seems like it has only been 10 minutes since you've started playing it, when in reality it has been five hours. And today, I lost an hour of sleep, fun and doing homework (funny how those two words ended up together). I literally lost it. Now it is 12:52 PM, and I need to get started on studying history, studying the events of the time past, studying the events which might have happened right where I'm sitting right now, the battle of Sakarya, the establishment of the first parliament in Ankara... Same place, different people, different times. It is just like another layer, another world...
Just to confuse you a little more, before I get back to the present and the future, here's a question: If I went back in time and somehow caused my grandmother and grandfather to never meet, what would happen?
I lost my hour,
I want my hour,
Give it back.
Today, I lost an hour because of the summer time application; "Better utilization of the day hours!"
An hour I would have perhaps used to study for the physics exam on Wednesday.
An hour I would have perhaps used to finish The Shire Theme arrangement for the piano I've been working on for two weeks-more like planning to work on for two weeks.
An hour I would have perhaps used to SLEEP.
And where has it gone?
Just thrown away into the space, the endless void beyond the stars we see at night?
Time does that to you. It confuses you, it creates problems we really don't need right now.
Time passes. Only it passes slower when I'm in math class, and faster when I'm in physics or music. Or it doesn't really "pass" when we're asleep. We close our eyes, it is dark, we open them, it is day, and the only crumbs of memory we have are dreams, flashing, vivid pictures, which are seconds long. What happened to the rest of the time?
Time travel is another issue of concern. If it was invented in the future, we would have known by now, because a man in a space suit with six fingers on each of his hand would've stumbled into the middle of the Walmart claiming he is from the future. One of my favorite movie series is Back to the Future, in which whatever Marty does affects his life in the future, as he tries to get back to it.
They cannot really explain how time works, and how it seems to take FOREVER for the video game to load, but it seems like it has only been 10 minutes since you've started playing it, when in reality it has been five hours. And today, I lost an hour of sleep, fun and doing homework (funny how those two words ended up together). I literally lost it. Now it is 12:52 PM, and I need to get started on studying history, studying the events of the time past, studying the events which might have happened right where I'm sitting right now, the battle of Sakarya, the establishment of the first parliament in Ankara... Same place, different people, different times. It is just like another layer, another world...
Just to confuse you a little more, before I get back to the present and the future, here's a question: If I went back in time and somehow caused my grandmother and grandfather to never meet, what would happen?
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