 From the diary of Blood Money
It is nearly winter yet weather does not tend to show its face as an ordinary autumn. When you look around nobody seems to feel cold. It looks like they feel cold, if someone shouts that temperature is below zero. This dry, sharp and freezing weather makes the leaves fall, where children then play. This is a typical season scene in Ankara, but a long time has passed, the city has changed. The only thing that remains in my memory is autumn in Ankara. I head out to the street. Buses roll by on the road as people wait for one to board in long desperate queues. The sun is almost down, partly seen between clouds. It does not make a difference whether it's noon or evening: the weather is still cold. I cannot feel my nose, ears or fingers. That is not important. There is an ache in my chest that suppresses the bite of cold.
I finally got on the bus at nearly 9 p.m. I sat all the way in the back. There seemed little difference between being inside or outside the bus: both felt cold as ice cubes. I usually like to travel via buses; they are usually very comfortable. This helps me to forget my objective in going there. Personally I can travel long hours on these kind buses. Maybe it is a big delusion. Let me explain my understanding about trips. You know how when a trip takes a short time, you do not want to get out of the vehicle. Whatever it takes, it should be continued. However, it is not the case when the trip is longer. When you know your trip takes many hours, you can get bored and even fantasize about jumping out of the bus. Thus, it is the trip delusion. At that time, I hear a sound, a weak sound. Yes it is, the song called Violet Hill. Someone is listening to Coldplay, and I hear the notes, instruments and voice. In that moment I think it is a wonderful song. It perfectly suits the city in this season. When the rain starts, the drops pattering on the window, the song fades out. The road is nearly half traversed, but interestingly enough, I still get bored of this trip. There are some problems with this situation. I like to travel by bus, but I get bored. Secondly, I normally like cloudy, cold weather, but these clouds and rain make me utterly depressive. All of it is enough to make me wonder why do I even take this trip and where do I even want to go? Moreover, recognition makes me feel the pain more strongly. And I cannot breathe...
I understand that I have arrived at my destination when I open my eyes and look around me. What I remember last is the nuisance of pain. In the middle of October it snows. Flakes fly about in the air, and it seems they do not intend to land anywhere. The grass becomes white, and a yellowish sky covers the place. It is so silent you can easily hear your own breathing. Now I can see I walk unconsciously and am not aware of what I am doing. I stop in front of the statue behind the ornamental pool. I hold up my head to see who he is. I did not prevail. Actually, why did I come here?
By Ömer Canbek Öner (CTE/IV)
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