Evimizin kocaman penceresinden bakinca, kafalarinda siyah sapkalariyla caddede gezinen ortodoks yahudiler goze carpiyor.Soguk,kasvetli bir hava disarida ki, rüzgardan cok,bu sehrin soguklugu insanin icini üşütüyor...
Annem'in memleketi diye mi artik gozume ilisti bilmiyorum ama Selda Bagcan'in "Sivas ellerinde -" parcasini dinliyorum bugun ardi ardina .Zaten severim Selda Bagcan'nin sesini ama bu parca ve " Gesi Baglari" parcasini dinlerken tuylerim diken diken oluyor.
Sehrimi ozledim (ki bu Sivas degil) : )
Martilarin cigliklarini,deniz kokulu yokuslu sokaklarini,kaosunu ozledim.
Evimizin kosesindeki pastaneden yayilan sicak pogaca kokusunu, annemin eli degdiginde tadi bir baska olan taze fasulye yemegini , kardeslerimle birbirimizin gozunun icine bakarak,soluksuz dinledigimiz ya da anlattiklarimizi , ust kattaki komsu ile karsilastigimizda ayak ustu ettigimiz merdiven başi sohbetlerini , alt kattaki emekli albayin raki kokulu balkon muhabbetini , gittigimde anneannem olmayacak olmasina ragmen kuzenlerimle bir arada ninemin evinde gecen bol kahkahali geceleri , sahil yolunda yururken bana eşlik eden martilarin cigliklarini ,ozlemem dedigim şeyleri bile ozledim.
Daha fazla kafiyeli sozlere gerek yok ,ozledim işte..
Bu ozlemle ben , Paskalya tatilinde yedi tepeli sehri kucakliyor olurum muhtemelen...
A chilly day in Antwerpen.
Looking down from our huge window,orthodox jews with their black hats are easily seen on the avenue.
Cold and gloomy is the outside but more than a wind, aloofness of this city makes one feel cold .
My eyes catch Selda Bagcan's song called in "Sivas ellerinde " then i started to listen. it is because my mom's hometown the song talks about (Sivas) ,i don't know.
I always liked her voice but this song and other one called " Gesi Baglari " makes me get goose bumps.
I miss my city (Which isn't Sivas ) : )
I miss the chaos over there, sloppy streets with sea smell,seagulls screams...
and i miss..
Hot Pogaca smells from the bakery on the corner of our house , String beans dish gets more tasty when my mom's hands are touching , listening or talking to my siblings when we gaze each other's eyes . Hurryup Chats with our upper floor neighbor when we meet on the stairs ,or conversation with the retired Colonel on ground floor's balcony along with some raki smell , laughing whole night with my cousins at my grandma's while i know she is not going to be there anymore , walking on the sea side with seagulls screams, i even miss the things that i said i won't miss .
No more rhymed words needed ,i miss there,that's it...
With the way i am missing, most likely i will be hugging the city with seven hills on this easter vacation.
