i feel smitten, torn and exhausted, but neither defeated nor destroyed. however, perhaps when these blows come to an end, i will better see the trees shining under the sun, the birds chirping velvety songs, the flowers exuding heavenly smells and the beautiful people walking past me!
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Sunday, July 17, 2011
WHY AM I A GLOBAL NOMAD?
Nomad: A person with no fixed residence who roams about; a wanderer.
This is the second definition that dictionary.com lists under nomad. A wanderer, without a permanent place to call home, maybe other than his or her backpack and some other small portable belongings, such as some clothes to put on when need be.
Why am I a nomad? Well, I think I have good reasons for calling myself a nomad, to be more precise, a global nomad. As when we think of nomads, it is usually within a country or a region or at the very best a continent that we think of them. --lets not count gypsies within this category, as i think they are also global nomads rather than just nomads-- but for me, well, it is all the world really. I think I have not finished my tour yet, maybe, to rightfully call myself a global nomad, but I definitely I am walking on the right path to that destination. So far, only parts of Middle East-well you could call it Asia if you fancy-, Europe, North America and Africa. Still much more to go, much more to cover, much more to see and taste and experience and live ...
A nomad is a kocher in Kurdish, a بدوي in Arabic, a nomada in Spanish, and a gochebe in Turkish. Now, a global nomad, in the same order would be: kochere cihane, بدوي العالمي, nomada global, and global gochebe consequently!
What is it that matters for a global nomad? In this case, I am strictly talking about myself and as it is so, many of the things I will talk about might not be applicable to all other global nomads. Is it race, or ethnicity, or religion, or culture, or economic interests that matters to a global nomad? Or is it something completely different from any of the above? Is it something more fundamental, something more important, something of higher value? Or is it just a useless and cheap concept that in a way I am deceiving myself with?
I will be honest. And let me tell you this dear reader; not many people are sincere when they talk about what they think in front of people, because playing for the crowd is always more appealing, more pleasing, but even more important than that it is much easier. I am not going to get into any of that kind of populist demagogy, but rather share with you, dear reader, what I think is important for me, in my life, and what I think should be important in every one's life, for the sake of well-being of us all. That is of course, if we give a damn about others, right?
Ok, so I think being a global nomad is the same thing as being a world citizen, or rather trying to be a world citizen. And, mind you, there is a ton of literature written on this topic. Many philosophers before us have thought about this, have thought hard about this concept. It cannot be said that this issue has been resolved, even though we are closer than ever to realizing this concept. If we have to modify what Thomas Paine has stated just a little bit, and read it as this: “my home is the world, and my religion is being helpful to my fellow people”, we will have a much clearer idea of what I mean by being a global nomad, a world citizen or at least striving to be one.
Accordingly, it is neither ethnicity, nor religion, nor language, nor economic interests that matter for me. That is, of course, not to say these things are completely worthless in my book and that I see them as contrary to what I believe, because it is not. But, there is something that is more important than all of those. In fact, more important than all of those combined. It is humanity! It is nothing more than that, it is just humanity. Being a human being, seeing yourself as nothing but a human being and everyone else as your equal; neither superior, nor inferior! Just equal. Maybe humanity is vague, so lets call it, to be a humanist!
Now, I can hear some people objecting to my statement and asking : “How can you disregard our language, culture, country, religion this much? Are those not also what, in a sense, make us what we are, that is humans? How can you diminish their vitality so much and yet advocate for something that you claim to be a combination of all those, or even worse, above them all?” -
Well, I think that language, ethnicity, religion, country, etc. that one belongs to is not a good enough reason, justification/excuse for one to favor one of “their” people over some other person, say in Africa. That is why, a global nomad is someone who values human beings, just because they are human beings, and not because they are German, or Muslim, or speak Swahili, or have brown skin, or are tall, or beautiful, or, or , or. These “or”s could be multiplied, for the sake of brevity, lets cut it out here. A global nomad, of course, at the same is someone that cares about the world, that in his or her own way, tries to change the world for the better. To put it more precisely, he or she is someone that wants to a be part of the group of people that wants to change the world for the better, to turn it into a more peaceful, a more beautiful and a more livable place.
All of those characteristics that we have not consciously chosen such as our color, or language, religion-for the most part -, the country that we are born in, our family’s financial circumstances are important. They are important in that, whether we want it or not, or accept it or not, they determine to a great extent what we become. On top of that, these are important because these are our values. These are our richness. These are what make us unique. These are, at times, what give meaning to our lives. So in this regard, I do agree that all of these characteristics that I am talking about are indeed important. And I would not be reckless, indifferent to their importance. That is why a global nomad, in other words a world citizen, harbours all of these features and in addition to that, manages to rise above these constructed realities and see the core, which, in my humble opinion, is that every human being is valuable, thus they should be able to get a good education, have a good life, not be deprived of most basic human needs and have a right to move to wherever he or she wants to at his or her own cost and discretion! and a global nomad is someone that tries to make this happen for every human being, and tries to impersonate these aforementioned facts in his or her own life in the first place.
It is indeed the global nomads that rise and voice their deep disappointment of and fight against unjust events occurring in the world. They are not trapped in their own little worlds, that is why they see the bigger picture, and, as a result, the injustice that reigns in the world. It is this injustice, discrimination, inequality that bothers them, that bugs them so much that they cannot sleep at nights, that moves them to take actions, to cry out in the face of the maladies that cripple the world we live in today.
And, that, dear reader, is what I am trying to become: a global nomad or kochere cihane as I would say in my mother tongue!
This is the second definition that dictionary.com lists under nomad. A wanderer, without a permanent place to call home, maybe other than his or her backpack and some other small portable belongings, such as some clothes to put on when need be.
Why am I a nomad? Well, I think I have good reasons for calling myself a nomad, to be more precise, a global nomad. As when we think of nomads, it is usually within a country or a region or at the very best a continent that we think of them. --lets not count gypsies within this category, as i think they are also global nomads rather than just nomads-- but for me, well, it is all the world really. I think I have not finished my tour yet, maybe, to rightfully call myself a global nomad, but I definitely I am walking on the right path to that destination. So far, only parts of Middle East-well you could call it Asia if you fancy-, Europe, North America and Africa. Still much more to go, much more to cover, much more to see and taste and experience and live ...
A nomad is a kocher in Kurdish, a بدوي in Arabic, a nomada in Spanish, and a gochebe in Turkish. Now, a global nomad, in the same order would be: kochere cihane, بدوي العالمي, nomada global, and global gochebe consequently!
What is it that matters for a global nomad? In this case, I am strictly talking about myself and as it is so, many of the things I will talk about might not be applicable to all other global nomads. Is it race, or ethnicity, or religion, or culture, or economic interests that matters to a global nomad? Or is it something completely different from any of the above? Is it something more fundamental, something more important, something of higher value? Or is it just a useless and cheap concept that in a way I am deceiving myself with?
I will be honest. And let me tell you this dear reader; not many people are sincere when they talk about what they think in front of people, because playing for the crowd is always more appealing, more pleasing, but even more important than that it is much easier. I am not going to get into any of that kind of populist demagogy, but rather share with you, dear reader, what I think is important for me, in my life, and what I think should be important in every one's life, for the sake of well-being of us all. That is of course, if we give a damn about others, right?
Ok, so I think being a global nomad is the same thing as being a world citizen, or rather trying to be a world citizen. And, mind you, there is a ton of literature written on this topic. Many philosophers before us have thought about this, have thought hard about this concept. It cannot be said that this issue has been resolved, even though we are closer than ever to realizing this concept. If we have to modify what Thomas Paine has stated just a little bit, and read it as this: “my home is the world, and my religion is being helpful to my fellow people”, we will have a much clearer idea of what I mean by being a global nomad, a world citizen or at least striving to be one.
Accordingly, it is neither ethnicity, nor religion, nor language, nor economic interests that matter for me. That is, of course, not to say these things are completely worthless in my book and that I see them as contrary to what I believe, because it is not. But, there is something that is more important than all of those. In fact, more important than all of those combined. It is humanity! It is nothing more than that, it is just humanity. Being a human being, seeing yourself as nothing but a human being and everyone else as your equal; neither superior, nor inferior! Just equal. Maybe humanity is vague, so lets call it, to be a humanist!
Now, I can hear some people objecting to my statement and asking : “How can you disregard our language, culture, country, religion this much? Are those not also what, in a sense, make us what we are, that is humans? How can you diminish their vitality so much and yet advocate for something that you claim to be a combination of all those, or even worse, above them all?” -
Well, I think that language, ethnicity, religion, country, etc. that one belongs to is not a good enough reason, justification/excuse for one to favor one of “their” people over some other person, say in Africa. That is why, a global nomad is someone who values human beings, just because they are human beings, and not because they are German, or Muslim, or speak Swahili, or have brown skin, or are tall, or beautiful, or, or , or. These “or”s could be multiplied, for the sake of brevity, lets cut it out here. A global nomad, of course, at the same is someone that cares about the world, that in his or her own way, tries to change the world for the better. To put it more precisely, he or she is someone that wants to a be part of the group of people that wants to change the world for the better, to turn it into a more peaceful, a more beautiful and a more livable place.
All of those characteristics that we have not consciously chosen such as our color, or language, religion-for the most part -, the country that we are born in, our family’s financial circumstances are important. They are important in that, whether we want it or not, or accept it or not, they determine to a great extent what we become. On top of that, these are important because these are our values. These are our richness. These are what make us unique. These are, at times, what give meaning to our lives. So in this regard, I do agree that all of these characteristics that I am talking about are indeed important. And I would not be reckless, indifferent to their importance. That is why a global nomad, in other words a world citizen, harbours all of these features and in addition to that, manages to rise above these constructed realities and see the core, which, in my humble opinion, is that every human being is valuable, thus they should be able to get a good education, have a good life, not be deprived of most basic human needs and have a right to move to wherever he or she wants to at his or her own cost and discretion! and a global nomad is someone that tries to make this happen for every human being, and tries to impersonate these aforementioned facts in his or her own life in the first place.
It is indeed the global nomads that rise and voice their deep disappointment of and fight against unjust events occurring in the world. They are not trapped in their own little worlds, that is why they see the bigger picture, and, as a result, the injustice that reigns in the world. It is this injustice, discrimination, inequality that bothers them, that bugs them so much that they cannot sleep at nights, that moves them to take actions, to cry out in the face of the maladies that cripple the world we live in today.
And, that, dear reader, is what I am trying to become: a global nomad or kochere cihane as I would say in my mother tongue!
Saturday, March 26, 2011
a great poem
I finally took the time to translate this great poem. Enjoy it.
DON’T GET ATTACHED
Don't get attached to any one thing blindly.
Don't say “I can’t live without her/him”
Just don't say it.
Because you would.
There is no need to use such pretentious phrases.
Don't love too much, for instance. If s/he loves you less, you will be heart-broken.
And usually, s/he loves you less than you love her/him anyway.
If you don't love too much, you won't suffer in agony.
If you don't possess too much, you won't be possessed either.
Don't possess the building you work in, your table, your telephone, your business cards
Don't even appropriate your hands and your legs.
Just behave as if they are not yours.
In any case, if you don't have anything, you won't be afraid of losing.
Act as if you could live without them as well.
Don't have too many belongings in your home, for instance.
So, you can stomp in it freely..
If you absolutely must possess somethings,
Possess the places where rooftops merge with the skies
Possess the sky,
The sun, the moon, the stars
For instance Polaris, make it yours.
Say, 'It is mine.'
If you absolutely want something to belong to you
Rainbow will be yours, for instance.
If you absolutely must belong to something, then be belonged to the colors.
To orange or to pink, for instance.
Or, you should belong to the paradise
Live, without possessing much,
Or, without belonging too much.
Live, as if life will slip away from your hands at anytime,
And at the same time, as if it will be yours forever.
Live, attached to life.
Hanging on the edge...
CAN YUCEL
Translation: Ez/Moi
------------------------
(Original in Turkish)
BAGLANMAYACAKSIN
Bağlanmayacaksın bir şeye, öyle körü körüne.
"O olmazsa yaşayamam." demeyeceksin.
Demeyeceksin işte.
Yaşarsın çünkü.
Öyle beylik laflar etmeye gerek yok ki.
Çok sevmeyeceksin mesela. O daha az severse kırılırsın.
Ve zaten genellikle o daha az sever seni,
Senin onu sevdiğinden.
Çok sevmezsen, çok acımazsın.
Çok sahiplenmeyince, çok ait de olmazsın hem.
Hatta elini ayağını bile çok sahiplenmeyeceksin.
Senin değillermiş gibi davranacaksın.
Hem hiçbir şeyin olmazsa, kaybetmekten de korkmazsın.
Onlarsız da yaşayabilirmişsin gibi davranacaksın.
Çok eşyan olmayacak mesela evinde.
Paldır küldür yürüyebileceksin.
İlle de bir şeyleri sahipleneceksen,
Çatıların gökyüzüyle birleştiği yerleri sahipleneceksin.
Gökyüzünü sahipleneceksin,
Güneşi, ayı, yıldızları
Mesela kuzey yıldızı, senin yıldızın olacak.
"O benim." diyeceksin.
Mutlaka sana ait olmasını istiyorsan birşeylerin
Mesela gökkuşağı senin olacak.
İlle de bir şeye ait olacaksan, renklere ait olacaksın.
Mesela turuncuya, yada pembeye.
Ya da cennete ait olacaksın.
Çok sahiplenmeden, Çok ait olmadan yaşayacaksın.
Hem her an avuçlarından kayıp gidecekmiş gibi, Hem
de hep senin kalacakmış gibi hayat.
İlişik yaşayacaksın.
Ucundan tutarak...
CAN YUCEL
DON’T GET ATTACHED
Don't get attached to any one thing blindly.
Don't say “I can’t live without her/him”
Just don't say it.
Because you would.
There is no need to use such pretentious phrases.
Don't love too much, for instance. If s/he loves you less, you will be heart-broken.
And usually, s/he loves you less than you love her/him anyway.
If you don't love too much, you won't suffer in agony.
If you don't possess too much, you won't be possessed either.
Don't possess the building you work in, your table, your telephone, your business cards
Don't even appropriate your hands and your legs.
Just behave as if they are not yours.
In any case, if you don't have anything, you won't be afraid of losing.
Act as if you could live without them as well.
Don't have too many belongings in your home, for instance.
So, you can stomp in it freely..
If you absolutely must possess somethings,
Possess the places where rooftops merge with the skies
Possess the sky,
The sun, the moon, the stars
For instance Polaris, make it yours.
Say, 'It is mine.'
If you absolutely want something to belong to you
Rainbow will be yours, for instance.
If you absolutely must belong to something, then be belonged to the colors.
To orange or to pink, for instance.
Or, you should belong to the paradise
Live, without possessing much,
Or, without belonging too much.
Live, as if life will slip away from your hands at anytime,
And at the same time, as if it will be yours forever.
Live, attached to life.
Hanging on the edge...
CAN YUCEL
Translation: Ez/Moi
------------------------
(Original in Turkish)
BAGLANMAYACAKSIN
Bağlanmayacaksın bir şeye, öyle körü körüne.
"O olmazsa yaşayamam." demeyeceksin.
Demeyeceksin işte.
Yaşarsın çünkü.
Öyle beylik laflar etmeye gerek yok ki.
Çok sevmeyeceksin mesela. O daha az severse kırılırsın.
Ve zaten genellikle o daha az sever seni,
Senin onu sevdiğinden.
Çok sevmezsen, çok acımazsın.
Çok sahiplenmeyince, çok ait de olmazsın hem.
Hatta elini ayağını bile çok sahiplenmeyeceksin.
Senin değillermiş gibi davranacaksın.
Hem hiçbir şeyin olmazsa, kaybetmekten de korkmazsın.
Onlarsız da yaşayabilirmişsin gibi davranacaksın.
Çok eşyan olmayacak mesela evinde.
Paldır küldür yürüyebileceksin.
İlle de bir şeyleri sahipleneceksen,
Çatıların gökyüzüyle birleştiği yerleri sahipleneceksin.
Gökyüzünü sahipleneceksin,
Güneşi, ayı, yıldızları
Mesela kuzey yıldızı, senin yıldızın olacak.
"O benim." diyeceksin.
Mutlaka sana ait olmasını istiyorsan birşeylerin
Mesela gökkuşağı senin olacak.
İlle de bir şeye ait olacaksan, renklere ait olacaksın.
Mesela turuncuya, yada pembeye.
Ya da cennete ait olacaksın.
Çok sahiplenmeden, Çok ait olmadan yaşayacaksın.
Hem her an avuçlarından kayıp gidecekmiş gibi, Hem
de hep senin kalacakmış gibi hayat.
İlişik yaşayacaksın.
Ucundan tutarak...
CAN YUCEL
Friday, March 4, 2011
tongue is fickle
Tongue is fickle
It can utter empty words
That’s why what is pronounced
Should not be taken into account too much
That’s why they call it boneless
Without a stance
Without a character
Without a shape
That’s why it should be twisted
Should be squeezed and given a lesson
Until it finally comes to confession
Confession of all the vital things in life
And …
ps: maybe one day i will be capable enough to finish these lines!
Monday, August 9, 2010
"Dreams within dreams is too unstable"
This is what Yusuf, the chemist, says when commenting on the difficulty of incepting the idea into Fischer´s mind. Yes, I am talking about the “Inception”, directed by Christopher Nolan with some big shots of film world, I will just mentions two that I really like, such as Leonardo DiCaprio and Marion Cotillard.
The movie might be a little--ok ok, more than just a little-- complicated as there are a lot of layers and you truly do need to pay close attention if you want to understand what the heck is going on and in whose dream it is that they are dreaming to put the rest in a dream in which to perform inception. Seriously.
I, personally, liked the film. A lot. Not only because there are many stories intertwined, and there is an intricate balance of action, suspense, drama, well sci-fi too I had to add but also because it is mind-boggling.
The acting is superb. Really. Nothing more to say about that. Well, other than congratulating Di Caprio and Cotillard for their state-of-art performance of course. I dont know why, but I used to dislike Di Caprio. A lot. But recently I have come to appreciate his acting more and more. I think along with Daniel Day Lewis, he is one of the best actors in the world. As for Cotillard, I love her from the first moment I saw her in “La Vie En Rose”, or also known as Edith Piaf. She is beautiful, intelligent and talented. And French:) What more could one ask for?
Alright, I will not make this post much longer than it should be. It is a great movie about human mind and dreams. But the kind of dreams that we might confuse with real life. Wait, have they broken into my mind too, and making me say these things? Merde, I knew something was wrong with me! Me writing a movie-review? Phew!
Shortly, here is all I have to say about this movie: It is masterfully written, beautifully directed, royally--in both senses of the word--acted, and satisfactorily watched!
Go watch it for yourself people...
PS: For those of you who want to read a little more about the movie, here are two dialogues that I loved:
In order to avoid other people´s stares
Arthur: Quick, give me a kiss!
Jajajaja ;)
The movie might be a little--ok ok, more than just a little-- complicated as there are a lot of layers and you truly do need to pay close attention if you want to understand what the heck is going on and in whose dream it is that they are dreaming to put the rest in a dream in which to perform inception. Seriously.
I, personally, liked the film. A lot. Not only because there are many stories intertwined, and there is an intricate balance of action, suspense, drama, well sci-fi too I had to add but also because it is mind-boggling.
The acting is superb. Really. Nothing more to say about that. Well, other than congratulating Di Caprio and Cotillard for their state-of-art performance of course. I dont know why, but I used to dislike Di Caprio. A lot. But recently I have come to appreciate his acting more and more. I think along with Daniel Day Lewis, he is one of the best actors in the world. As for Cotillard, I love her from the first moment I saw her in “La Vie En Rose”, or also known as Edith Piaf. She is beautiful, intelligent and talented. And French:) What more could one ask for?
Alright, I will not make this post much longer than it should be. It is a great movie about human mind and dreams. But the kind of dreams that we might confuse with real life. Wait, have they broken into my mind too, and making me say these things? Merde, I knew something was wrong with me! Me writing a movie-review? Phew!
Shortly, here is all I have to say about this movie: It is masterfully written, beautifully directed, royally--in both senses of the word--acted, and satisfactorily watched!
Go watch it for yourself people...
PS: For those of you who want to read a little more about the movie, here are two dialogues that I loved:
In order to avoid other people´s stares
Arthur: Quick, give me a kiss!
[She kisses him and then looks around]
Ariadne: They're still looking at us.
Arthur: Yeah, it's worth a shot.
When they dont know what to about the flight
Cobb: For this to work, we'd have to buy off the pilots...
Arthur: And we'd have to buy off the flight attendants...
Saito: I bought the airline.
[Everybody turns and stares at him. Saito just shrugs]
Saito: It seemed neater.
Jajajaja ;)
Friday, July 23, 2010
life in black & white...
...is interesting! see it for yourself in the picture if you dont belive me. voila:
if you click on the picture, you can see it in a larger size!
if you click on the picture, you can see it in a larger size!
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
EZ XELEF IM
So, I have finally taken the time to translate the lyrics of "Ez Xelef Im". Firstly, let me clarify some points before I publish the lyrics. There is more than one version of the song, in fact the song changes from region to region, even from village to village. So the lyrics I have translated are the most commonly known and sung by Sivan Perwer.
LYRICS(first, original in Kurdish, then in English):
Hewar e Mîr hewar e Mîr
Ez Xelef im Xelef im
Hewar e Mîr hewar e Mîr
***********************
I am the owner of the streaming sword
It is the prince crying for help, it is him
I am the owner of the streaming sword
Êzdînşêr is Prince of Botan
Among the tribes I am the unyielding
It is the prince crying for help, it is him
Among the tribes I am the unyielding
Êzdînşêr is Prince of Botan
The story, mind you this is also only one version, is as follows: While Êzdînşêr, who is Prince of Botan, is fighting with Xelef, who could be called the rebel or bandit in the name of people, the Ottomans slowly conquer Botan. By the time they realize this, it is too late...
If you are curious as to where Botan region is, click here. If you are curious about what Xelef means, click here.
Also, If you guys want to listen to the song, here is one version by Sivan Perwer:
Ez Xelef im
Ez Xelef im Xelef imHewar e Mîr hewar e Mîr
Ez Xelef im Xelef im
Êzdînşêr Mîrê Botan e
Xwediyê şûrê’b sedef im
Hewar e Mîr hewar e Mîr
Xwediyê şûrê’b sedef im
Êzdînşêr Mîrê Botan e
Li nav eşîran bi gef im
Hewar e Mîr hewar e Mîr
Li nav eşîran bi gef im
Êzdînşêr Mîrê Botan e
Ez Xelefê kinik imHewar e Mîr hewar e Mîr
Ez Xelefê kinik im
Êzdînşêr Mîrê Botan e
Xwediyê şûrê’b şirik im
Hewar e Mîr hewar e Mîr
Xwediyê şûrê’b şirik im
Êzdînşêr Mîrê Botan e
Li nav eşîran bi rik im
Hewar e Mîr hewar e Mîr
Li nav eşîran bi rik im
Êzdînşêr Mîrê Botan e
***********************
Xelef I am
Xelef I am, I am Xelef
It is the prince crying for help, It is him
Xelef I am, I am Xelef
Êzdînşêr is Prince of Botan
I am the owner of the pearl sword
It is the prince crying for help, it is him
I am the owner of the pearl sword
Êzdînşêr is Prince of Botan
I am the threat among the tribes
It is the prince crying for help, it is him
I am the threat among the tribes
Êzdînşêr is Prince of Botan
I am Xelef, the slender
It is the Prince crying for help, it is him
I am Xelef, the slender
Êzdînşêr is Prince of BotanI am the owner of the streaming sword
It is the prince crying for help, it is him
I am the owner of the streaming sword
Êzdînşêr is Prince of Botan
Among the tribes I am the unyielding
It is the prince crying for help, it is him
Among the tribes I am the unyielding
Êzdînşêr is Prince of Botan
If you are curious as to where Botan region is, click here. If you are curious about what Xelef means, click here.
Also, If you guys want to listen to the song, here is one version by Sivan Perwer:
ADDITION: In the song Sivan first tells the story of how the men of the Prince go after Xelef etc., and by the time they come to their senses and realize what is going on, it is too late, and they have lost everything by now.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Let's have some fun!
Ok, it has been a while since I wrote anything here. But that is about to change!
I have some new stories to share with you, from Turkey, Sweden and of course now Spain. But before going on to those stories, let's first have some fun with one of the pictures that I took while visiting my hometown Botan or officially known as Siirt/Sert. It literally took half an hour from my life to take that picture. Really. But was it worth it? Hells yeah!
So, now you see the picture below. Here is the single rule of the game that we are going to play: Everybody has to come up with a sentence that would fit with the picture and the way our heroes in the picture are standing! Our heroes are: the tall guy, the middle guy, and the short guy.
What could they possible be saying? Why are they in that position? Voila.
Here are two things that we (Eset, Heqi and I) came up with:
I have some new stories to share with you, from Turkey, Sweden and of course now Spain. But before going on to those stories, let's first have some fun with one of the pictures that I took while visiting my hometown Botan or officially known as Siirt/Sert. It literally took half an hour from my life to take that picture. Really. But was it worth it? Hells yeah!
So, now you see the picture below. Here is the single rule of the game that we are going to play: Everybody has to come up with a sentence that would fit with the picture and the way our heroes in the picture are standing! Our heroes are: the tall guy, the middle guy, and the short guy.
What could they possible be saying? Why are they in that position? Voila.
Here are two things that we (Eset, Heqi and I) came up with:
- Middle guy: "Who did just fart?"
- Tall guy: "Kita hazir ol!"="Battalian, attention!"
The rest is for you. Let's see what talents we've got!
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
George Bernard Shaw
"The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man"
Where are you people, I am hitting the bottom yet you are still not in the horizon?
Well well well, maybe I should be a little more unreasonable or maybe just a little, slightly, more reasonable and all the problems will be solved and I will progress along with some others maybe, as my uncle Shaw put it very wisely.
Where are you people, I am hitting the bottom yet you are still not in the horizon?
Well well well, maybe I should be a little more unreasonable or maybe just a little, slightly, more reasonable and all the problems will be solved and I will progress along with some others maybe, as my uncle Shaw put it very wisely.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
A philosophy of lies:
“Sky is clear, cows in the fields seem to enjoy the nice weather and fresh green grass, dirt and sickness filled sewage canal that is used for the irrigation purposes seem to be following its expected and natural course that it has followed since centuries, and possibly with similar techniques that were used during Pharaonic times, and the train, which arouse this sensation in any western traveler that it is moving on a very bumpy and pot-filled road rather than two supposedly straight railways, is slowly approaching its final destination; Sidi Gaber, Alexandria”
Is this a lie? How about this?
“I am bored out of my skin, so much so that I want to tear my thin protective layer, that has not been doing its job the way it is supposed to be doing for a long time now, namely protecting me from external damages, and once I tear that soft and, by now, weak skin I just want the blood to gush out of it until the last drop is dried on the floor that it was dripping onto, until no sign of life is left with my purposeless and useless body. Now let’s replace ‘bored out of my skin’ with ‘I am aching awfully’ or better yet, ‘I can’t think rationally anymore because of these dreadful and godless blows being struck at my face and at my very being’ “
Which one is true and which one is lie? Neither!
It is the composition and combination of both. The first paragraph is true in that what exists in the space right now is being described. But it is a lie, because the way I feel does not reflect anything that is around me. The second paragraph represents the truth that is inside me much better, and how I feel about myself and the things that are surrounding me right now, but that also has its flaws. Firstly because I have a very difficult time putting what I think, how I feel and how much these pains in my blood and heart and brain are constantly hurting me into words that can be understood and make sense to people when they read them as opposed to dangling in the air like meaningless and stupid phantasmas.
What is a lie? Really what is a lie after all, and who is a liar? Or rather who is THE liar?
Would a lie still be considered a lie even if it was told in a time of desperation, fear, anger, worry or happiness? If we take all these states of being into consideration, would there be anyone in the world that does not lie?
Oh how much I would rather have an honest enemy than a dishonest friend, even if it is the closest person to me on this vast planet.
So here is the dilemma: There is this mother that only has two children. Both of her kids die in a war. And you have these two options: 1) you could tell her that both of her children are dead, which might cause her have a heart attack and die right there and then, or 2) you could tell her that one of her sons has died and the other’s whereabouts are not known exactly, and this would or might keep her going with life, but in a constant state of mourning, and sorrow.
Which one would you choose? And why? Also, things get even more complicated if we take into consideration the fact that for some people mourning and/or going through indescribable pains is much worse than death itself, because mourning everyday could be as bad as, if not worse than, dying every day from anew. If that is the case with the mother, which option would you choose then?
Anyway, enough with these lies!
I am not scared as much from the sword of the enemy as I am from the lies of the “dost”! -this is a Turkish/Kurdish/Persian word that could be translated as best friend-
Thursday, April 22, 2010
wey dinyaye!
gotin li ser zimane min in, le mixabin didan li ser hev ranabin da ku bi azadi, bi xweshi, bi cohsi derbikevin gotin u heta ji desten wan te qira xwe bigihinin ezmanen li ser asimanan, ezmanen pirr bilind u pirr dur, ezmanen stur u ase, teng u direj. her ezmanen regirti, u her ezmanen agirgirti mina chiyaye agiriye!
dawiya dine nez e. le be dewa ye. beredayiye ye. teji bebexti ye.
yen ku dile min de bun, yek bi yek rabin li ser piyan u pashi ya xwe ji nerenin careki, derketin u chun. ne xatir xwestinek u ne ji gotineke din. ew e para min ji ji dinyaye, xwendevanen heja. de bila wale be!
de bila wale be!
Friday, April 16, 2010
can birds see where they are heading to? i am afraid not. not any longer!
Sky is slowly being taken hostage by the dark forces of the dark Satan. The glistening lights of the bright powers, the sun and the stars namely, are also slowly losing themselves in the euphoric sensation of defeat, to an invincible and almighty foe. It is difficult and tricky to differentiate between friend and fiend.
The debilitating effects of this grimy atmosphere are firmly and incessantly shattering his determination and his might. He is alone. All alone. Like god. No, worse than god in point of fact, as when god wills something he just says it and “it becomes” , as Muslims and all other fortunate faithful believers see it. But not him. He is lonelier than god, in this brute world. In this suffocatingly swarming place when it is hard to even breathe at times for there are too many people. That is what they call themselves. That is how they have come to name themselves. People. Not for him. No, not for him. In this sea of people, he is a lost and haunted ghost all alone in this vast and expansive ocean. He is, dear reader, anybody-less.
Pondering, thinking, brooding, suffering, and bleeding are the main words nowadays that he uses to describe himself. Disappointed, disillusioned, dissatisfied, angry, sad and fatigue are the words he uses to depict how he feels. Revenge, spite, terror, horror and agonizing pains are the words he borrows to illustrate what he wants to inflict upon the ones that have betrayed, backstabbed, pained, wounded him, who have slaughtered his most susceptible, vulnerable, and gentle sentiments and turned them into a monstrous creature that is ready to take the world down with himself. That is ready to strike unrepairable and ineradicable blows at the face of this atrocity, cruelty and inhumanity-filled inhabitance.
The darkness has finally enveloped his fragile body too. He is helpless and hopeless. His future is nothing but bleak. He is about to explode. It is just a matter of time. And nothing else. It will happen. That is what he feels. His eyes are blind now. Nothing to look at; nothing to see in this pitch darkness. He keeps looking for some source of light, even if it is a slender prospect, the enemy of this nightmarish obscurity, this damning vicious cycle that is taking everything, most of all his humanity, away from him. But there are none in his sight. That is why he has befallen blind to the attacks of the mighty and ruthless enemy. The lies. These lies that are at least as black and potent in disparaging as the lethal weapons of the night and of the Satan. The pinky words of the past that were uttered to him come to his mind. He is revolted, dismayed and nauseated now. Such empty and hollow words. Do you know, dear reader, that in many languages “word” and “promise” are the same word, and mean the same thing. Once a word is pronounced, it is a promise written in stone. Or it should be in any case. That is how he perceives the words and that is, alas, also why he is so pained by them: these same words. Yes, that is profoundly why.
He has decided to wait, a little longer, to see if his blindness could be cured or at least alleviated so that he can prolong his walk of life. But all around is dark. Thus it is easier to see anything bright. However, simpler also to finish this futile and thorn-filled march.
Jiyan Berxwedan e - Life is Resistance!
Thursday, April 15, 2010
In the Narrow Alleyways of Lebanon and Syria
Hodge screamed at our driver for he was being a retard. Not only did he show up late at the meeting place in Alexandria to pick us up and drive us to the airport in Cairo more than an hour, but also even though a lot of the people in the bus told him to turn left, he took the right!
Anyway, we barely made it to checking our luggage in and pass the customs. Jahd's aunt picked me and him up from the airport once we had landed, and we drove to his granny's house. After putting our stuff in the room, we embarked on our little Middle East tour, starting from "the clubbing capital of the Middle East" Beirut. Firstly, we went to a Syrian, low-key restaurant to have some dinner, and headed to this communist bar, where the walls and even the ceilings were covered with pictures of Ernesto Che Guevera and other prominent communist thinkers and leaders, along with some weapons--I saw three-- which all seemed like they were loaded kind of. It was really cool, especially because the people that run it were really hospitable, and warm and provided us with many different kinds of fruits and seeds etc. all on the house.
Ok, I am not going to go day by day, I will just try to talk about important things that I saw, witnessed, and experienced during the ten days I spent in Lebanon and Syria.
After walking around with Jahd for a long while, we decided that we were hungry, as we had not eaten anything practically speaking that whole day, and we decided to settle in the kebabji restaurant--the suffix "ji" is a Turkish suffix and it gives the meaning "someone who does ..." to the word that it is attached to-- right across from American University in Beirut, which is just beautiful, really, if you dont believe me here is a picture from there:
It is like a beautiful nest in the heart of a beautiful city.
We went to see the famous cedar forest, not a forest really. I think, there might be 200 or at max 300 trees left. Because they are symbolic--remember the Lebanese flag-- we had to see them. And we had to drive through some nice valleys and a lot of scenic places. And there were a lot of jesuses and maryies in that little forest; they were in pain.
By the way I have pictures of all these places on my picasa account if you want see pictures of what I am talking about.
We went to a hamam--Turkish Bath-- in Tripoli. It was full of adventures. Some of our friends got violated while getting a massage, and some 40 year old men expressed their interest, openly and loudly, in younger guys. It was creepy, especially after I heard one specific story. Steph, do you hear me?Oh I just remembered that I was going to say this: there is a church in that little cedar forest. Well, I had to pee on its walls. God, I ask for forgiveness!
I finally decided to ask someone to take a picture of me with the rest of the gang that we were traveling with when we were watching Damascus being engulfed by the darkness slowly, from a hilltop, I think it is called Mount Om Kolthum, or something of this sort. But I felt unsatisfied, because I could not take a good picture of the darkness making love with the city. Even though I could not capture a very good picture of that vista I can easily assure you reader, that it was an aesthetic love-making.--There still are some pictures from that night in the album though--
I met a Kurd the first night, a close friend of a close friend of a close friend, seriously. He read one of his poems that he had written, the quality of it was as high as the quality of Cigerxwin's or Melaye Ceziri's poems--being disrespectful is not my intention-- And these two guys I just mentioned are like Shakespeares of the Kurdish literature. He said he has not published any of them yet, but might do something nice with them, once outside, and once he can translate them into English, Spanish, Italian, German and French all by himself. Mind you, other than German and French the guy did speak all the rest in addition to Arabic and Kurdish. I would hear some other random Kurds and Turks speak Kurdish and Turkish on the streets. It felt weird. Also there is this Persian Quarter in the old city. I really liked it. There are Shia mosques all around, everybody is speaking Persian--which sounds so pretty, I am sorry guys but prettier than Arabic-- women that are religious paint themselves with black garments all around, from the toe to the head. It is a very cosmopolitan city, if only they allowed everybody have their most basic human rights. Most Syrians, especially Arab Syrians, though, are very happy with their government surprisingly.
Damascus is a nice city. That is the conclusion.
Off we went to Aleppo, or Halab, or place of the sweets--as all of Syria is known to be--with a train that was clean, and eventless. There I took my favorite picture of the whole trip. It is really simple, but I really like it, a lot. Here it is. Also let me know what you think of it.
After staying there for a night, we drove down to a very famous Crusade castle which is known as Krek, or Crec maybe, de Chevalier in English--but is a French word-- but apparently was called "Hosn-al-Akrad" in Arabic until very recently, which means the castle of the Kurds. I was surprised to see that written on the information billboard in the entrance of the castle. I know you know but nonetheless let me repeat it, proves of what I say are present in the album.
We went back to Beirut on that day, and I took a beautiful picture of no man's land in between the Syrian and Lebanese borders. It is forbidden. But to a man who is about to lose his mind anyway, that does not make much difference, to be completely honest.
We went to a gay bar in Beirut, It was a lot of fun, but ended with anger, kind of. Even though all of us are now over it. right Steph and Jahd?
One other thing, well two now, came to my mind right when I was about to finish this post. One is this: So the first time we went a club, it is called BO18, I was really really hungry and wanted to eat. But there was no food in the club, it was late, there wasn't even a close by restaurant because this place was kind of far away from the downtown. The club, by the way, is cool. It is basically a place underground but there are multiple entries and the roof can open, too, all in the middle of a big parking space, right next to a busy highway. So I asked everyone if they were hungry or if they would like to go buy something with me. Most of them were drunk by this time, and as a result no one wanted to come. So I started my adventure alone. This neighborhood by the way is the Armenian Quarter. I crossed the street and went into this dukkan, shop, that was still open. I asked them if there was any place nearby that I could buy any kind of food. They said there is not. So I was asking them what would be the easiest way getting to the nearest restaurant, when a transvestite dude told me that I should go with him. So I did. He took me through some back and narrow alleys of the neighborhood until we hit a main road at which point he told me that I should walk on this main road for about 7 minutes and I would see an open place where I could buy a sandwich. I had taken a second step when he asked me "Shu Esmaak?". I said: Xelef, and yours? He smiled at me, said his name, which my memory is failing me in remembering it now, and departed. I found the place, had my nice Lebanese sandwich and went back to the club after almost getting lost on the way back through those dark, and dwindling streets of the city.
The second thing is about how Beirut is promoting itself as the "clubbing capital of the Middle East", which I completely agree, that is if Turkey is not included. It is possible to see scars of the past Civil War(s) almost everywhere in Beirut. Still. Other than the new downtown area that has been completely rebuilt with the efforts of the Hariris and the government, which looks really elegant but kind of boring. Imagine a luxurious mall, but with a touch of fake historic stones and colours, that is downtown Beirut to you. But it is really gorgeous.
And here is a last picture from my trip. the ones in the picture are part of my extended family.
I just wish I was as free as they were. Because I am tired of this sullenness. It is blacking me!
good night and good luck
Anyway, we barely made it to checking our luggage in and pass the customs. Jahd's aunt picked me and him up from the airport once we had landed, and we drove to his granny's house. After putting our stuff in the room, we embarked on our little Middle East tour, starting from "the clubbing capital of the Middle East" Beirut. Firstly, we went to a Syrian, low-key restaurant to have some dinner, and headed to this communist bar, where the walls and even the ceilings were covered with pictures of Ernesto Che Guevera and other prominent communist thinkers and leaders, along with some weapons--I saw three-- which all seemed like they were loaded kind of. It was really cool, especially because the people that run it were really hospitable, and warm and provided us with many different kinds of fruits and seeds etc. all on the house.
Ok, I am not going to go day by day, I will just try to talk about important things that I saw, witnessed, and experienced during the ten days I spent in Lebanon and Syria.
After walking around with Jahd for a long while, we decided that we were hungry, as we had not eaten anything practically speaking that whole day, and we decided to settle in the kebabji restaurant--the suffix "ji" is a Turkish suffix and it gives the meaning "someone who does ..." to the word that it is attached to-- right across from American University in Beirut, which is just beautiful, really, if you dont believe me here is a picture from there:
We went to see the famous cedar forest, not a forest really. I think, there might be 200 or at max 300 trees left. Because they are symbolic--remember the Lebanese flag-- we had to see them. And we had to drive through some nice valleys and a lot of scenic places. And there were a lot of jesuses and maryies in that little forest; they were in pain.
By the way I have pictures of all these places on my picasa account if you want see pictures of what I am talking about.
We went to a hamam--Turkish Bath-- in Tripoli. It was full of adventures. Some of our friends got violated while getting a massage, and some 40 year old men expressed their interest, openly and loudly, in younger guys. It was creepy, especially after I heard one specific story. Steph, do you hear me?Oh I just remembered that I was going to say this: there is a church in that little cedar forest. Well, I had to pee on its walls. God, I ask for forgiveness!
I finally decided to ask someone to take a picture of me with the rest of the gang that we were traveling with when we were watching Damascus being engulfed by the darkness slowly, from a hilltop, I think it is called Mount Om Kolthum, or something of this sort. But I felt unsatisfied, because I could not take a good picture of the darkness making love with the city. Even though I could not capture a very good picture of that vista I can easily assure you reader, that it was an aesthetic love-making.--There still are some pictures from that night in the album though--
I met a Kurd the first night, a close friend of a close friend of a close friend, seriously. He read one of his poems that he had written, the quality of it was as high as the quality of Cigerxwin's or Melaye Ceziri's poems--being disrespectful is not my intention-- And these two guys I just mentioned are like Shakespeares of the Kurdish literature. He said he has not published any of them yet, but might do something nice with them, once outside, and once he can translate them into English, Spanish, Italian, German and French all by himself. Mind you, other than German and French the guy did speak all the rest in addition to Arabic and Kurdish. I would hear some other random Kurds and Turks speak Kurdish and Turkish on the streets. It felt weird. Also there is this Persian Quarter in the old city. I really liked it. There are Shia mosques all around, everybody is speaking Persian--which sounds so pretty, I am sorry guys but prettier than Arabic-- women that are religious paint themselves with black garments all around, from the toe to the head. It is a very cosmopolitan city, if only they allowed everybody have their most basic human rights. Most Syrians, especially Arab Syrians, though, are very happy with their government surprisingly.
Damascus is a nice city. That is the conclusion.
Off we went to Aleppo, or Halab, or place of the sweets--as all of Syria is known to be--with a train that was clean, and eventless. There I took my favorite picture of the whole trip. It is really simple, but I really like it, a lot. Here it is. Also let me know what you think of it.
We went back to Beirut on that day, and I took a beautiful picture of no man's land in between the Syrian and Lebanese borders. It is forbidden. But to a man who is about to lose his mind anyway, that does not make much difference, to be completely honest.
We went to a gay bar in Beirut, It was a lot of fun, but ended with anger, kind of. Even though all of us are now over it. right Steph and Jahd?
One other thing, well two now, came to my mind right when I was about to finish this post. One is this: So the first time we went a club, it is called BO18, I was really really hungry and wanted to eat. But there was no food in the club, it was late, there wasn't even a close by restaurant because this place was kind of far away from the downtown. The club, by the way, is cool. It is basically a place underground but there are multiple entries and the roof can open, too, all in the middle of a big parking space, right next to a busy highway. So I asked everyone if they were hungry or if they would like to go buy something with me. Most of them were drunk by this time, and as a result no one wanted to come. So I started my adventure alone. This neighborhood by the way is the Armenian Quarter. I crossed the street and went into this dukkan, shop, that was still open. I asked them if there was any place nearby that I could buy any kind of food. They said there is not. So I was asking them what would be the easiest way getting to the nearest restaurant, when a transvestite dude told me that I should go with him. So I did. He took me through some back and narrow alleys of the neighborhood until we hit a main road at which point he told me that I should walk on this main road for about 7 minutes and I would see an open place where I could buy a sandwich. I had taken a second step when he asked me "Shu Esmaak?". I said: Xelef, and yours? He smiled at me, said his name, which my memory is failing me in remembering it now, and departed. I found the place, had my nice Lebanese sandwich and went back to the club after almost getting lost on the way back through those dark, and dwindling streets of the city.
The second thing is about how Beirut is promoting itself as the "clubbing capital of the Middle East", which I completely agree, that is if Turkey is not included. It is possible to see scars of the past Civil War(s) almost everywhere in Beirut. Still. Other than the new downtown area that has been completely rebuilt with the efforts of the Hariris and the government, which looks really elegant but kind of boring. Imagine a luxurious mall, but with a touch of fake historic stones and colours, that is downtown Beirut to you. But it is really gorgeous.
And here is a last picture from my trip. the ones in the picture are part of my extended family.
I just wish I was as free as they were. Because I am tired of this sullenness. It is blacking me!
good night and good luck
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Friday, December 25, 2009
BÊDENGÎYA DENGAN Û DENGÊ BÊDENGAN
bêdengîya dengan
dengên ku her tim divê cur bi cur derbikevin
dengên ku nalînan, axînan, qirîn, gazî û gazincan dikishinin
dengên ku ew qas bêdengin dikarin guhên mirovan ker bikin
walê bilind, walê dijwar, lê heman demê jî walê derbeder u birîndar
dengên kur û dur, dengên ku mizgîniya roja nu didin shevê
dengên ku her tim li dijî zordarîyê serê xwe radikin û her du aliyan ve dihejinin
dengên ku li ber xwe didin, seri dihildin u straneki distirin
ji zozan, chem, zinar, desht, chiya u kendalan re
li war û berê egîdan, mêrxasan, serbilind u ciwanmêran
ew dengên ku xwe nadin ji bîr kirin
û ne jî tu kesi ti demi ji bîr dikin
ew dengên ku her tim diviya bilindtir u bilindtir bibuna
mixabin, lê îro mane bêdeng
ji ber wê ye jê re dibêjin bêdengîya dengan
û dengê bêdengan
ew bi xwe cihaneki serbixwe ye, azad e, tenê ye
her û her tishtek tê sehkirin
lê tishtek nayê sehkirin, ji ber ku dengê bêdengan dernakevê
derbikevê jî nivs e, tenik e, pistepist û hindik e
tenê mêri dikarin sehbikin dengê bêdengan
tenê ew dikarin ji zimanê wan fêhm bikin u bersivekî ji wan re bishînin
tenê ew dikarin bizanin ka chi li serê wan de hatiye, ka ji chi derbas bune
tenê ew dikarin heyf u tola wan gunehên bêxwedî, bêmal, bêwar û bêkes bistînin
belê tenê u tenê ew dikarin tishtekî bikin, ger ku ew jana zirav ji dilê wan bigirê
mirovên bêdeng didin ber qîran û hawara xwe ji ezmanên bilind re rêdikin
hêvi dikin ku rojekî jiyan û siud dengên wan jî seh bikê, mirazê wan ji chê bike
ew hêvîye ku her tim xwînê ji demarên wan re derbas dike û jînê li lashên wan de piroz dike
ger ku ew hêvî jî li ba wan ne mine an jî ji destên wan werê standin
ê hingê dengê bêdengan kêmtir û her kêmtir derbikevê u jiyan jî wata xwe winda bikê!
Monday, November 9, 2009
What does Xelef mean?
Xelef is first and foremost a Kurdish name. It has several meanings, but the three most widely known/used meanings are as follows:
- A bandit, who favors the people that are oppressed, and rebels against the authority. (This is the meaning it has mainly in Botan region).
- Someone, whose ancestors are proud of his actions/doings. (This one is the meaning it has in the Kurdish regions of Iran).
- Successor. (This one actually comes from Arabic word of Khalif, and it is pronounced a little differently).
So yes that is the meaning of Xelef.
Also, Xelefê Botî/ Xelefê Bota/ Xelefê Bohtî/ Xelefê Shuvî (all referring to the same person) is an important historical Kurdish personality in the Botan region of Kurdish area in Turkey. He is mostly known for his bravery, and courage against the oppressive Mîrs of his time and the Ottomans afterwards.
There is a very famous song called "Ez Xelef Im" sung by Sivan Perwer, the most famous Kurdish singer, and many other artists. Actually, "Ez Xelef Im" is probably one of the most famous song in all Kurdish regions. Even though there are different versions that vary from region to region, the theme is the same: that Xelefê Bohtî rose against the Mîr of Botan and they fought against each other, but no one won really, because while they were fighting, the Ottomans were conquering the whole region of Botan, and by the time they realized this, it was too late!
There is a Xelef dance that is very well known and practiced in almost every wedding in most of Botan, Amed, Hekkari, Behdinan and Wan regions, and possibly in the neighboring regions as well. It is one of the more nuanced Kurdish dances and not everyone knows how to dance it.
In my next post, I will try to translate "Ez Xelef Im" song by Sivan Perwer.
Until then.
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