MEN DON'T CRY-2

12
YOUTH

Despite various hoodwinking practices offered at Youth Holiday celebrations, it’s a hard to withstand being young in this country. They disregard you, they don’t esteem you, and they’re afraid that you’ll covet their careers in the future. As a young man, you’re not liked and respected for reasons like these.
The situation is a little bit different at childhood, though; they usually appreciate or sympathize what you do because they think you’re just cute, because you’re not a whole human yet. For the children are fathered due to the purposes of pleasure, entertainment, amusement and binding the family together; no one worries about the future of the child, especially if he is a boy. They’re kissed, hugged, tickled, pinched and their pee-pees are shown off to aunties and uncles with pride.
Girls, on the other hand, don’t encounter as many problems as their male counterparts; they have to be protected and claimed. However, a young teenager male in this country is bound to be pushed around and despised till his mid-twenties. Everybody knows this...
I fell into the claws of loneliness after that horrible event we’ve lived at the wee hours of youth. After Ayhan’s has return to Izmir; I’ve failed from two lessons for the first time in my school life, and thus, departed from the gang and classmates, dismissed from being a boarder due to a disciplinary punishment, and got into the arms of depression that lasted for several years. My passion of literature and music saved me from death at those times. I knocked down a plenty of books, wrote a few lyrics and songs, fell in some foolish love affairs, and finally managed to fit myself into the university.
In 1978, the year after I graduated from highschool and started the university, I found a job paying minimum wage at a tourist agency. I was nineteen. Transferring was a half time job and it was fun; I was welcoming tourist groups at the airport and bringing them to their hotels, and vice versa during their return. I was working at very early hours for two mornings, and from nine to midnight for two other nights within a week. Almost none of the flights of our national airways was on time during those days; I could be off-duty hardly at the late hours of the night.
I had a pass-card enabling me to get into the terminal in order to meet the tourists before passport control.  I learned how to utilize the benefits of this card from my wakeful friends in the company; asking the tourist girls to buy duty free cigarettes and liqueur for me, by handing them the money beforehand. The country suffered absence of luxury items those days; these goodies bought free of tax worth three times their price in the black market. Selling the whisky and cigarettes to a gaming house, I making my pocket money.
Soon afterwards, I started inviting the girls who did me favor to the bars at their hotels. In order to thank them, of course; hunting two preys with one bullet... Right after the drinking bouts, I used to find myself in bed with secretaries, nurses or teachers usually came from northern towns of England. Seller and buyer were both kept satisfied.
I worked about one and a half years at the tourist transfer business. Guided some night tours for a while, during this career; Istanbul by night... These tours did not require much expertise. We were collecting a group of twenty five-thirty people from their hotels, and taking them to a tavern at the Harbiye district. Snacks and appetizers beside raki were served, while belly-dancers accompanied by a band of traditional Turkish music. The tourists were invited to the stage and, even if not volunteered, almost forced to belly-dance at the finale of the night. It was as if we were the ones who paid for entertainment, not the tourists; they danced for us all through the night, in return for what they paid.
In the second year of the faculty, I quitted the tourism business, which I believed was not suited for me. What’s more, I was neglecting school, too.  Four of the first years’ lessons I flunkled; they were waiting for me to compensate. There was a great danger lurking, in case of not being able to graduate and get kicked out of school; sixteen months of obligatory military service at who knows where the hell… However, if I could graduate from a university, a short term military service option of only eight months was possible, and thus I would begin business earlier. I should use this gorgeous advantage just like my peers who were able to graduate from a university.
What kind of a future can a young man at his twenties hope; how can he believe that he can accomplish something, and how could he believe in himself and the future? Tomorrow was in darkness, and I was worrying for that. Should I have to change my way, my values, or my conditions; I didn’t know that as well.
As I told earlier, I have not yet known anybody who gave the chance to a young man to change his way, except those parvenu rich uncles who prepared ready careers to their saucy children.  Just the opposite, it was as if there were some hidden sources of power which sucked up the energy of young generation to the end. Old and ambitous generations who filled us with wrong and useless education; politicians who do everything to keep us unsuccessful and then show the hypocracy of telling that they do favor for us; government officers who have no worries but preserving their positions; and the bewildered bourgeoisie who takes revenge from the young, for being too late to grow fatter.
I had no hope.  I was the boy of a family with moderate means.  Their financial condition was getting worser each day, and the tangibles they could offer me were diminishing. I gave up accusing them for that; they were not obliged to offer me even pocket money.
At the business administration faculty, we were being taught how to get rich; the management of money and business organizations… Our teachers, those famous professors had never worked in any company, or they’d ever traded anything; but they very well knew about finance and trade. Our marketing teacher swaggered in such a manner that, one would think he was the one who was manipulating the global consumables market. Our finance teacher would have founded his own bank if he could have realized one fourth of what he taught us.
Anyway, as a result, I never had the exalted aim of becoming a banker or working at a large company in the future; I didn’t care at all. I was not aware of what I wanted, either. To me, achievement in life was something else; a successful person was someone who had the power to love what he did, and work at the job that he’s talented at. The creativity of such a person could not be worn out; whatever his field of expertise was, he would be able to produce and pump out his works…
At first, I was so a gudgeon to believe that this was difficult, but reachable if I would work hard enough. Later, I lost all my hope, and became a bum who lived just for the day. Actually, living the day wasn’t so easy as it seemed; because you have to sacrifice your past, your future, and all of your hopes. Entirely.
And so did I…

13
MEETING NUKET

My family were members of a water sports club at Ortaköy since my childhood. During summers, we used to enjoy swimmimg and sunbath, listen to music, read books and play water-polo with folks over there. My father would fish at the concrete pier of the club.  On weekend evenings, we used to dine with the sea-brims, horse-mackerels or bluefishes that he hunted, eat-drink, and had fun.
My mother played cooncan with her friends at the play-garden on the side of the club. My brother and I got bored of here sometimes and used to go at Arnavutköy to play tennis, or to Bebek coffeehouse to drink some beverage. Summers were long and time passed slowly in Istanbul. Summer vacation of the schools were not only two months like a sedative pill swallowed promptly as it is now, it lasted for four months netto.  I wonder if the world spinned slower and the days were longer by then?
The roads were almost empty, and we travelled everywhere by trolleybuses that were operated on the Bosphorus line. The trolleybus driver would often pull the noisy hand barke and jump out of the vehicle, in order to struggle with the horn-like electricity receptacles which slipped off the wires. Despite all that fuss, we would reach Nişantaşı in less than half an hour.
We met with Nuket by a coincidence. She just stood there in front of the cafe at Bebek on that hot July afternoon, leaning on a car parked by one of my school firends, where I used to stroll around, with my bronze tan and the dazzling energy of my age of twenty-three. I was impressed the minute I saw her; she wore a short, red and white cotton dress, her curly sun lightened hair dangling down her shoulders like a waterfall, and she had a lovely sun tan. Her limbs that her dress could not hide, seemed so elegant and sexy.
We exchanged greetings with Zafer, and the girl smiled; we were introduced to each other, and we were both glad about this. Nothing to deal with at those hours of the day; we got engaged in a nice chit-chat. While giggling, when I used the nasal spray to clean up my clogged nostrils, Nuket stared and annoyed me with words about some sniffing powder.
-I see that you’re a fast ‘nasal blower’ huh...
-Yeah, I can’t do without it, can’t just control myself.
I thrusted the Otrivine bottle into my nostril again and acted like a drug addict with shaking hands.
She laughed at me showing those white teeth of hers, she was sweet. And the best part of it, I was in bad need of falling in love again. My realitonships never lasted more than six months, maybe because I didn’t promise any future to be dreamt by the young girls.  I was about to part with my sweetheart at the swimming club, and somewhow became affair-addicted so that I would never stand alone. Nuket and Zafer were used to be hanging out awfully jet-set as much as I understood. A hell of a things were necessary to pilfer this girl which I didn’t ever have; a fair good luxury car, and loads of dry money to fetch her to some places every night…  On the other hand, I was nothing but a penniless student, who still has bad credits from the second term of the faculty since four years.
Our gutter conversation with Zafer and with that recently met girl got deeper. Towards the evening, there were others gathered to that coffeehouse chat. I’ve found myself among some high-society bastards’ group.  We’ve packed up and went to the Şadırvan Bar’s terrace at a little further to get some drink.  We were quiet close with Nüket. I had a feeling that she was influenced from my vagrancy and handsomeness; there wasn’t anything else that I have, anyway.
When we were drinking at the terrace, Nüket and other boys have bombarded me with a rain of questions. When our heads were incenced our jaws began to work; I was kidding in a careless mood, in the world and in my eyes there was nothing important to me then.  Nüket was asking questions to know me; we’ve just met a few hours ago and knew nothing about each other.
-Are you a student?
-No I’m vacant. Just got out of the jail.
She couldn’t knew what I told was real or joke, laughing at my indecent answers. Maybe she has not met anyone like me who tell such weird things, instead of courting at the first date...
-You’re from the same school with Zafer, do you know Bahar? She maybe one year smaller than you.
-I know her, she’s a nice girl.
-She’s an actrist, she’s entered to the school of drama at Ankara.
-Yes, she surely learned from me how to play a role.
-How was it?
-Several months lasted, I studied her the role of a woman while orgasm.
When she also laughed so much at that, I narrated two smutty jokes. Other guys and girls listened as well. As a matter of fact, nobody ever heard of those jokes; my connection with the crowd became warmer. It came to my mind; I began to caress Nüket’s legs under the table. At the first touch, her eyes got wide open and then she looked at me. My expression’s remained unchanged; I was inside her eyes. Then she relaxed and smiled.
-You’re a different breed of guy, she whispered at my ear.
-I’m Labrador breed, I replied.
-Where are you from, really?
-I’m comin’ from the Eastern district.
I’d spoken with accents; Nüket  laughed out of breath to that. Suddenly, Carlos Santana’s Europe rose from the Terrace’s speakers and shot me from the heart.  Haşmet, one of the boys that I met was I a music fan. After speaking a little, he asked me what I listenened. In some genres, I was a real expert at those days. We’ve talked about a lot of groups, albums and musicians. From the oldies and from the recent releases...
Nevzat was also a good listener. According to what he’ve told, he had a super duper hi-fi system at home. When he heard that I was interested in some music movements other than rock and pop, he became chattery. At a deep hour of the night, Haşmet invited all the group to his appartment. I had been snoggish with Nüket already, and thus concreted my integration with the crowd in a way.
When we were leaving from the bar, the Temptations was singing ‘Pappa was a rolling stone’.  Our pappa was an accountant who never has been a rolling stone.  Although nobody met anyone in our family who did vagrancy, I always wondered why I used to gallop and gasp for that kind of things.
I just grabbed the salt cellar and galloped again...

14
THE CROWD

I had an irresistable inclination of living adventure and getting my head into trouble inside me, since my earliest years of youth.  In fact, I was tough enough to easily reject the things that I don’t want to do, but when I used to realize that I was through the incidences, it used to be too late.
As a vagrant who used to sneak around singular, I could not resist to my desire of integration with the crowd, for similar reasons. In fact, if I would’ve wanted it, I would rip her off the crowd; she seemed that she was under my influence. But, God damn it, I wasn’t able to do that; living together with my family –my mommy, daddy and bro-, I didn’t have a place of my own, and I was someone who used to drill to a penny.
When I introduced the strand appartment of Haşmet’s, I was pretty surprised honestly. The upper floor of the renovated historical building was a magnificient place reserved to the elite tastes of the Sir. The terrace which stands on the sea, and the bar-kitchen which are separated from here with a slider glass-door were finely designed and done well. As a kid who’s lasting his twenties, I noticed that it was good to be living among the high-society. When all of us entered in, our host opened up his arms beside and moved to the bar-american that was full of liqueur of any kind, and he commanded with his bugle-like voice.
-Help yourselves.
He poured his own margherita glass that he filled with crushed ice from the automatic ice-maker. Nevzat took the whisky glasses from the shelf and passed beside him.
-Okay.
Arzu was expecting to be served herself in everyway.
-I’d like to drink Jack Daniels, darling. Make it full iced.
-I want the same.
-And I want a one iced Gordon’s, sweety.
Eventually, Nevzat revolted to this situation, joking.
-Is your father’s barman working here? Everybody’s gotta put his own drink. I work only for the girls, don’t care anybody else.
-Ahh, you’re so gentle ,my love...
Mamfi overdoed the job; I think the joint that he’s puffed secretly at the bar has expanded his appetite.
-Is there anybody hungry? I’m ordering pizza.
The girls have came to an agreement among themselves to share one pizza.
-Order one for us; with pepperoni and black olives...
-Okay darling.
Haşmet was an academy student with intellectual appearance, red hair, beard and circle shaped glasses. Studying architecture. The famous white strand, and the pink building right across where we were, used to belong his family. His grandfather was one of the Pashas of the Ottoman, and father was a well known arhchitect of the country. He was playing some easy-strum guitar and sing at the crazy nights that we began to organise at his appartment, putting on some vagabond poses that doesn’t assort himself, and he was storying to the toadies around his sex adventures that he claimed that he lived with his lovers.
He opened his home entirely to the crowd. Like they go to a social club, they used to meet here to eat and drink. Two of the boys were his old pals; they were employed to listen his sex tales several times with details. Haşmet couldn’t stand Nüket’s interest on me from the first night. I’ve felt that. Later on, I’ve became a guy to tolarate at his eyes, for the reasons that I was Zafer’s friend, and I was adjoining some colour to their boozes.
Fat Mamfi was a sweet boy. He was the only guy among us who completed the military obligation and who ripped into the business life, for he hasn’t attended to the university. He used to do trading-importing of some foreign brand kitchens with his brother, and used to drive a brand-new sports car with which he liked to carry the girls of the crowd to everywhere.
Handsome Nevzat was a genuine friend of Haşmet.  He didn’t have any money problem as well. He was driving the deluxe car of his father and dressing pretty fashionable. Together with Haşmet and Zafer, he used to get the taste of summer in the daytime, with a sailboat anchored at the Bebek Bay and that I just couldn’t understand to whom it belonged. He was a tall, tawny, and curly-haired guy like me. Except some inclinations of artificial vagrancy, he had a good sense of humour. Later on, I learned that he was the one who introduced Nüket to the crowd and that he used to date with her for a while then.  For that reason, he used to a bit dislike me in fact.
My schoolmate Zafer was not a friend of mine in the school; he was just a guy whom I know from the next class somehow. The number-one pleasure of that bigfeeted and bighanded dark tanned varmint, was to drive in speed. He has got a special talent at car mechanics; attended to the best university of the country, educating engineering. Separate from the general attitude of the crowd, he didn’t used to take spirits and joint. He always preferred secondary streets when he was driving, for he was wanted by the police some unimportant traffic crimes.
I’ve listened the bedrock from Nevzat one week later that he’s bumped to a woman at Hisar, and has driven his car right on to the cops who’s trying to stop him nearly two months ago. Zafer was a good rallier; who’s got medals at several races. He used to feed with the excitement of the dangers at the traffic; driving in the narrow streets at nights with a speed of almost sixty miles. From time to time, the excitement that we lived at these narrow streets used to increase Nüket’s sexual desires, and we used to bang at the back seat.
Arzu E., with her small body, dark hair and fire-looking eyes, and with an appeareance of a wild panther, was the first of the girls in the crowd. She was the daughter of a famous journalist, and majoring Economy at the university. A different type, male-crazed girl who’s became the common property of the group. I just couldn’t understand that with whom she was dating during the days I’ve sneaked around with the crowd.
In the crowd, its used to be done some most unheard-of jokes to Arzu. Once, when she was laying with Nevzat at Haşmet’s bedroom, Zafer had hopped in and shot some polaroid pictures of everywhere of her’s, and Haşmet, who was turned on by these pictures has got into the bed without taking care of her hysterical screams. Arzu E., was never complaining for none of these; she was just for entertaining herself.
The number three female of the group, blond bomb Selin has got sexual problems; she was assuming that she was a lesbien. She was an old friend of Haşmet from the secondary school. Nevzat used to be with her quite often, eventhough he always do these shitty jokes that alluded to her dikeness.  She had some behaviors that teases men; while she speaks, she used to touch by her hand or sometimes by her big boobs, and her eyes used to look as if she was going to eat the guy that she’s facing.  She’s left the university at the second term, and  she was making her living with the pocket money that she used to get from her father who was a famous dentist of the city.
The crowd was used to hang out trampy for sure. They enjoyed that I’s looking like a more real bummer, and that I was speaking some street jargon and playing guitar and praparing some funny shows. Some cabaret shows came into vogue and there was a new colour added to the nights together with me. Around ten o’clock in the evening, we used to meet at a bar at Bebek, Şadırvan, that doesn’t exist anymore for the time being. Before we flow to the occasions, it used to be dropped around at Haşmet’s, the cigarettes were to be wrapped, the mouthpieces were to be folded, and the joints were to be circulated from hand to hand. As I’ve told, the crowd has the most handsome sportscars of the town. The places that we used to go were some fashionable restaurants and clubs. We used to draw attentions at these places, and satiate dishonorable egoes of ours.
Again one Saturday, I remember that we’ve enjoyed the Italian Restaurant at Elmadağ to organize that bullyrag. There, they didn’t knew us at all. We’ve parked the cars across the avenue. Haşmet and Zafer has weared on some jackets parted at their homes to be given to the ragman. We’d even had some empty cigarette packets and expensive looking dud lighters to be deserted on the table with us.  Selin hasn’t come, and we’ve forcingly brought Nüket and Arzu together with us.
When we sat around the table, Nevzat has asked to Mamfi, who’s fidgeting next to me.
-What’s up agent?
Mamfi tried to answer him by blinking his slant eyes.
-I say t-that, i-if...
He was just sticked up like that.  I answered instead of Mamfi.
-It’s n-nothing up, mate, life is so w-wonderfull...
Even Mamfi’s laughed at my joke. Then, the chief came to take our orders. The seriousity of the crowd was noticeable though.
-I’m going to take a tortellini.
-Would you like to have some melon with proshutto?
-Good, tell for me too...
We’ve ordered the most sumptuous vines, and the most prestigious Italian dishes. I called the chief nearby me and showed him the writing at the menu list with my finger; a pike perch with some special sauce.
-I want to order this. I’m sorry but I just couldn’t pronounce it; just because of that...
-Understood, sir.
We ate, drank and laughed. The earthly news, matters of the country, problems and worries were prohibited to talk among ourselves. The subject of chats were always used to be shoaly and chinwag.
Just close to the bill, we’ve scattered around to go bathrooms or here-there. The girls’ve ran out by panic, the waiters gawked at the jackets, cigarettes and lighters left on the table. We were almost laughing to death while we were waiting outside for our last guy who’ll run away and maybe caught and pay the bill. Then we saw Mamfi; he crossed the road running. While the waiters got out and began searching around, our cars were gunned up already.
Life was that for us; to eat and drink, run and enjoy... To make someone unhappy and to harm somebody was not things to think on. I was surprising when I looked at myself; with an unbelieveable waste of personality, I was trying to be adapted to those degenerated people.
At the late hours of the night, as our heads are quiet high, we used to turn back to Haşmet’s to start the show. I was the man of these performances; opening with the strip-tease music, make the girls dance and undress like revue stars. Selin’s friends mostly, there used to be some shy guest girls at some nights, I even make them get on the stage and excite.
At the second session, I used to play something that looks like Arabic, under the name of Erotic Arab Music. Renewing the words each night according to my head, I used to find more funny things. Those songs were used to loosen the bolts of the crowd, and then came the craziest parties. Lap dance, bazooka drinks, and lots more on top of it... With the first lights of the dawn, the girls were to be dropped to their homes, and we used to close the shops.
Member of this rotten crowd, though, Nüket was a surprisingly collected and glorified girl. She has preferred to live her younghood in that way consciously. Her family was rich; they were inhabiting in a big and comfortable house, dwelling an easy life. Attending to one of the best universities of Istanbul, she was a brilliant American literature student.  I was introduced at her magnetic field; she was effecting me from head to toe with her mind, beauty and charm.
Was I in love with her?
We haven’t talked anything about love with Nüket, the words of love do not exist at our books. She used to call on me whenever she wants to be with me. We were intimate to speak and do everything but our togetherness without the group was very rare.
An evening during the week, pausing the video film translation that I used to do to get my allowance, I’ve called Nüket this time.
-Heyy. How’re you?
-Fine. And you?
It’s began playing the cult song of Procol Harum; ‘The Whiter Shade of Pale’ on the radio, I’ve got quite rejoiced.
-I’m doing a film translation, you know... A bit bored.  Would you like to go out with me?
-Alright.  Come and take me at ten thirty, let’s go to the bar at Bebek. Could there be anyone from the team, would we call?
I was bored up with the group those days. I’d like to be alone with Nüket.
-How about to keep away from them a while?  We see them later on, if you want.
All of a sudden, she passed to defend her friends in a surprisingly rough tone.
-Why? We enjoy and go around so good...
-Don’t you want to go around alone with me?
-No. I mean I want but...
-Yeah?
-It’s different to sneak around for entertainment with the crowd...
-Right then; let’s get out only you and me tonight, on Saturday we’ll be together again. Okey?
She didn’t keep on insisting but her voice changed instantly. There must have been something to her mind.
-I want to ask you something; you don’t think that we’re lovers, do you?
I couldn’t know what to say. And couldn’t understand why she’s asking so, either.  I preferred silence. When I paused, she felt herself to continue.
-I hope that you don’t think anything serious with me...
-No, I don’t think but...
-But what?
-Just couldn’t understand why did you asked that?
-Because I’m not ready to be ‘lovers’ with you yet.
Her voice tone was getting harsher. So I felt the necessity to soften the atmosphere.
-Alright Nüket. Whatever you like. I’m not an addict of love. I just think that sometimes it could be better to chat together all alone; just you and me... Is it that much strange?
-Oh no... Alright, I just don’t want to depend on anybody, that’s all.
Then, she closed the matter all of a sudden.
-You can pick me up from home at ten thirty, OK?
-Right, see you.
I ruminated after I turned off the phone. My age was also too young to be a serious guy. So, I didn’t care much about Nüket’s manner. I decided to close my eyes and think about sex only.
Our neckings with Nüket were to be a real heart-stop excitement. Usually, we used to lay at Haşmet’s bedroom at the back of the house. The erotic words performed at the shows, used to transform to touches of hands and bodies later on.
Exceeding the boundaries of alcohol zone, we used to chat at the bar in the hall. Mostly, she used to stick her hips to my body and demand me to touch her legs.  When our bodies came to the point of insanity, we used to run inside. The settle ups for the first session was done while standing. Within ten minutes, we were to start again; velvetly naked...
Ahh, sex was something that blinds our eyes, to the heavens of life. Unfortunately, it was so flying; the pains of the real life were not like that.

15
MUSIC AND BOOKS

At eighties, the taste of my type of music got to be shitty. The rifle’s coined and the bravery’s got spoiled; they’ve founded some recording techniques which they use the electronic shynthesisers more frequently, and they’ve mixed more money and more lies into the music biz. The magical atmosphere of the seventies; the times that plenty of fabulous albums released, and the sincerety of the recordings where the vocalists used to sing together with the band, were all abandoned for some bullshit reasons.
Questing of innovation in arts would not necessarily used to give fruits that lead a way to good and beautiful; it would be a supply only that covers the mass expectance pumped with advertising by the art brokers to earn more money.
Durig the same period, the situation in Turkey was horrible. 1980 coup’ve had created hopelessness in all areas, it’s had deepened the lasting depressions much more. We had no way out... The music that’s composed at such an atmosphere could only be something like crisis songs or anthems.  So, in eighties, together with the clinging of the arabesque music to the apex at the country, there were some weird changes in pop music as well.
I was a guy who plays guitar and sings since college years. When I wanted to find a way of evolution to that interest of mine, some smart brother’s book of modern harmony has totally changed my view of music.  I began to study music at nights, experimenting orchestral arrangements.  I was dreaming to be a musician, working hard with great pleasure.
The songs I’ve written were closely related to the books that I’ve been reading. At that time, I was influenced by the poets and story writers especially like Edgar Allan Poe and Dylan Thomas, and some beat-generation authors and minstrels like Burroughs, Kerouac and Ginsberg.  For that reason, I was tring to compose my poetry in an original way, which narrates deep pains and partings, malice passions, dementia, and other anti-system attitudes of mine.
The songs were not to be written for only the composer himself, of course. Some time later, there came out the necessity of expression. I was in a need to tell, play, sing and share my songs with other performers.
At the attic at the Taksim Square, together with a friend who’d had a studio, drum set and sound system there, we’d set up a four-guy band. There on Sundays, we used to do an experimental type of rock music, and play the songs that we’ve written.  When some good things began to come out, we wanted to perform concerts, do some studio recordings and attend to some song contests.  Some people should’ve listen and discover us. But it was impossible that way; we just haven’t got the material poverty to open to the outer world.
There was no captain at our band but most of the songs belonged to me. Doing the arrangements together, I was playing guitar and singing some of the songs. In fact, there was a contrast between the music that I listen and the songs that we played at the attic. I don’t listen anything else than Afro-American music nowadays, but I was fixed to listen to the North European jazz at that period.
We had some jerry-built mikes and amplifiers in our studio at the attic. The equipments were gathered there by the individual effort of the bass player friend of our band who used to understand that kind of stuff. Some of the cables were to be started to transmit by pulling its connectors, and the echo device were to be operated by slapping it. We never used to worry about the wringers we went through, just laugh away and go.
People who deal with music, ultimately want to record their work.  This is an inalienable ambition; you want to know how the voice that you’ve produced sound from outside. We wanted to get into an audio studio to make our music recorded. We didn’t have got any money, but that was the thought which was enriching our dreams.
When we began to learn further about ourselves through our ongoing affair with Nüket, I’ve brought her to here, to the attic that we work music. After the rehearsal that monitored by her, she told me that she liked very much what she’s heard. That Sunday evening, I tried to tell her this part of my life with all the details; and tell her that I was sure that I’ll be a famous music man in the future. I don’t know why did I do that, but I just drew all the longborn there... I would start from somewhere and someway, and surely reach to some heavenly success.
Nüket told me that she appreciated that and wanted to support me.  I was very glad with that. For the first time in my life, I believed that someone can do something for me. She was a kind of girl who knew what she’ve told, wise and strong. Even if she doesn’t have the family that provides her whatever she wants, she’s got the charm, talent and intelligence that will form her life according to her whims.
On the next Sunday, she wanted to come to the rehearsal again. When we exitted there, we went to a restaurant and had dinner. While we’re chatting, she told me that she’s brought the money that we needed to do the recordings of the music that we’ve performed. It was an amount to solve all the problems the band had.
Nüket’s always been avoided to strike up any direct connection with me until then. Very recently we started to date out without the crowd, and these were the things we never intruded before.
-Why do you do this?
-Have you ever think why do I wander around with Haşmet’s group, those scraps?
I wanted to ask her ‘Why do you wander around with me?’, but I gulped, and tried to answer her.
-For amusement, I guess...
Smiled at me.
-Yes, she said. You’re right in a way. You know I’ve been having language. I’ll continue at the America next year, I am a student good enough to confuse the people who see me with the crowd. Be sure that I read much more than an ordinary literature student, but I’m aware that I have no tend to any kind of creativity.
-Creativity is not a natural born character, I interrupted her.  It’s an improvable thing. When its time comes, you may become a perfect author, who knows.
-I know myself, at the furthest I would become a good critic or something like that.
I didn’t try to persuade her this time.
-In any case, you can appreciate this better. I haven’t read anything you’ve written; I don’t want to argue through my hat about this.
-I live all these frenziness and drollery to forget the meaningless of life, and I saw that an ordinary and stable life don’t please me...
She was talking word by word and fluently as a book. I was looking in her mouth. It was an amazing thing that a twenty-two years old girl could speak in such a terrific maturity.
-People should have to have an aim, things to be realised, desires to dream and aspirations. I didn’t have any aim like that and I think it will never be. I colligate this with the lack of my imagination, to my dryness. But you’re different. I want you to try the best thing that you believe in, and seize the opportunity that you can do a boom at music.  I’ll present you that opportunity, because I believe in your art, and I think that you’ll be successfull.
I told her that it was enough for me that she liked my music and  to express this sincerely. I’ve recognized then that I didn’t want to get under such a responsibility.
She kept on her insistence against my unwillingness.
-I provided this money by pledging the diamond brosh that inherited from my grandma on top of my travel money that I was planning to go this winter. I tell you that for the reason that; this is an important sum for me, and it should be meaningful for you as well.
-Then I can’t ever accept it.
I could not tell her that I’ve lost all my hopes regarding life, and that it was no use to take the words I’ve told her about my music life in future that much seriously.
Sometimes, your perception becomes blunt. If only I could use my head a little bit I would perceive that; accepting her offer would lead the way to win Nüket; may completely change the horizons that I go; and may rivet my togetherness with her by another cord; and maybe would not live all the misfortune that I’ve faced from then on.  A smart and mature man is someone who can draw his line when he’s living the incidences. But I was devoid of the knowledge and experience to do this.
-Nüket, I thank you very much but before I take this money I’ve got to know what to do with it. I’m not ready for it yet; please let me have some time...
Smiling, she put the envelope back to her bag, didn’t say anything else. That night I understood that she was the girl that I wanted to be with in all my life. I just wouldn’t be able find someone looks like her.   She was a fairy who has a magic wand at her hand; someone who will carry the man she stands against to triumph.
When I laid down on my bed at night, I thought that there was something at myself that Nüket saw and I did not notice. Nüket was a girl that could find fifty better guys, whenever she wants. Then, why did she want me? The answer was clear and definite; she might’ve been finding this shiny boy quite interesting. I should be a more interesting bummer in order to marry her.
And I was going to be...

16
UNPLEASANT ENTERTAINMENT

My journey with the crowd had turned into a monotonous togetherness in the midts of September. This relationship was affecting the quality of my life, eventhough I’ve had no plan for the future; inhibiting to intensify at my attendance to the school, to the work and music, it was even worsening my togetherness with Nüket.
As I’ve told you; I’ve had a half-time work at a company where I used to do the English to Turkish translations of the movies and prepare subtitles for them. For that job at newly-developing video-casette duplication and rental service, I was earning a small fee for the translations of each movie; something neither not to let die nor not to make smile. I was doing it by listening to the voice-over track from a casette player to eliminate waste of time. Later on, those translations were to be recorded onto the video tapes as subtitles by a person called synchronizer.
Video was a newly invented thing.  They’ve buncoed us a system that has not accepted at the world; a format called ‘Betamax Video’ that goes out-of-order continiously, and the tapes deteriorate while just staying on the rack, and changes colour at every televisor brand...
Actually, for a proper translation, you’ve got to watch the movie and work at least ten hours on it, but I didn’t had that much time. I’ve used to work a total of five-six hours to take out a film subtitle. This worthed good enough to the wage that I used to get.
I went on with this tempo for a long while. By the time of rottening, I began to do serious translation errors, and fuck-up all the films. One evening, my boss called me to the studio and show a scene from a movie that I’ve made the translation. I just didn’t know what to say; while the woman at the scene was talking about the faucets at the bathroom, I’ve put a sentence related with some love affair in between. Fortunately, I’ve only got a warning just because my past performance was quite good at the job, but I’ve understood that I’s reaching to the end of the road with great speed; I was about to crash to the wall.
After rejecting Nüket’s proposal, we’ve turned back under the level that we recorded recently, and just like the older times, we began to talk the same old shallow conversations, and live the same shitty monotonous shows.  She could find herself a new lover at any time, because the taste of our pettings have all gone and our sensual trade has turned into some mechanical frictions.
The members of the crowd were always busy; they used to chase after some new funs and new vagrancies.  I was feeling that I was sinking down to the vortex that that I was grabbed. To tumble down to the end of everything has begun at the third week of September.
Nüket’s father was a member at the administration board of that Galatasaray Island, one of the most elite social clubs of the town. One night, Nüket has taken all of us to a dancing party.  Our heads were fine, especially Nevzat and Mamfi were pretty overflowed.  First, they began with mollesting the elegantly dressed ladies around, and then got on the dancefloor to do some weirdest dances in the world.
Nüket has easily handled to keep me still, but it was impossible to manage the other drunk rotters.  The people at the dancefloor who couldn’t resist the hand and foot strokes that flew off left and right, have all scattered around.  As time went by, Nevzat felt that he was popular, and he just dropped off his pants and showed his ass to everybody.
When Nüket noticed that it’s been going to some infamousness, she tried to bundle off us, but couldn’t. In the late hours of the night, when they rejected to serve spirit anymore, Mamfi tipped the chief with a hundred bucks and flied off a bottle of whisky. We all got down to the unused landing at the back, and sloshed down all that fiery water with the bottle. On top of it, we wrapped a three-papered there. It happened to be something like the peace pipe of the Indians. Our heads were stoned; we were making fun like mad. When the waiters came there to boot us out, we didn’t resist; we hopped on to the motorboat, got to the seashore, and went to Haşmet’s to do razzle-dazzle.
There gathered plenty of girls to Sir’s appartment that night. I remembered some of them from the bars we hanged, and didn’t know the others at all. Our heads were hunky dory; when we began to play and sing, I noticed that one of the girls was looking at me as if she would eat me.
That night, I flew with Şermin and that fattish friend of hers, I can’t remember her name now, and never saw them again. Girls have chosen me all among those guys; I’ve got nothing else to do.
I laid with her at the small bedroom of ours, and the fatso, without any propose, jumped into the bed afterwards. Honestly, I got surprised that both of them were so desirous and daring.  I’ve completely forgot  about the crowd outside, and when we’ve finished our study and get into the hall, I felt the blackness of the glances somewhere at deep inside. Then I did farewells to everyone, and returned home.
We always used to pay a price for everything we’d done in this life.  I’ve got what have I done all by myself, but I was a guy who doesn’t know what not to do for commiting a sin.  The story of the night have reached to Nüket’s ears before I reached home, and all the matter were transferred to her fully distorted.
As though, according to those gossiper jealous rotters, I’ve bulldozed these two girls to the bedroom, and raped them...

17
THE FACULTY

Alcohol again, shows again and nights full of sex again were following each other. We’ve come to the mids of October. Except Mamfi, all of the team members were enjoying their lives, collecting energy for the night. As for me, I’ve got to work by speed of doing one film translation per day. If not, leave to offer cigarettes to the crowd, it wouldn’t be possible to go to Arnavutköy even by bus.
In fact, no one was demanding me at all.  Besides, after all those disgraces that’s been lived, if I wouldn’t go there and keep dealing with my job it would be much bettter for me, but the problem was that; I was someone itching for trouble.
After that Şermin incidence, Nüket has changed her attitude towards me; she was keeping a distance with me.
Suspicion and inferiority complex that I’ve lived the first time in my life has caused to a strange rage; I used to clamp down to Nüket who was trying to run away from me. I was wandering around Bebek-Kuruçeşme line and hoping to catch her hand by hand with the new lover I’ve created in my head. I was sure about it; there was somebody in her life.
On top this unpleasantness that I invented by myself, there was another problem; the school’s got opened and I’ve got to attend the lessons. Eventhough I hated all that education stuff, there was nothing I can do. At the finals of the first period, I’ve got to clear out the bad credits thats left from the second class.
Four years ago, I’ve entered this faculty with a good overall score. But, at the first days of the university, I’ve got bored of the lessons and the environment, and I couldn’t attuned to there. It was impossible for me to meet anything to attract me; my ambition was dead for a long time.
In the first and second years, like Economy and Accountancy, there were lessons that I could manage to pass by just one night reading. But there were also some lessons like Business Math and Statistics, good enough to tire a haggard like me. Even though I entered to the exams several times, I could only clean up the first two years lessons.
Officially there was no obligation to enter the lessons. To enter visas ans finals and to get D was good enough at those years.  At the first semester, I’ve bought my books, to gather the lesson notes, and to make some friends who’ll inform me from the progress I entered to the lessons for along a few weeks.
For not to unbind entirely from the faculty, I’ve hoped to get some help from a group of friend in the beginning. At first, they’ve shown a little interest, and then, for some undefined reasons they’ve left me outside. I’ve desperately had entered the finals just by reading the books and succeeded in some of those snappish lessons.
One of the lessons which I passed with a high grade just by one night reading was Economics.  Our teacher, the head of professorship, was a countrywide known man who’s published plenty of books. He should’ve found me quite close to himself, came beside me at the first lesson after the final.
-Well done, son. You don’t look like so, but you’ve been pretty wise about the price theory.
I didn’t know what to say, and tried to make a cliché joke.
-With your help, sir. If you allow me, I’ll write a book, too.
-Of course you may, son. However, I suggest to you to give examples other than man-woman relationship when you’re writing that marginal demand formula. They may understand you wrongly, and your head gets into trouble...
The pupils have dropped down under their desks at the classroom when they’re laughing outloud. With an amazing positiveness, ‘You can do better, son’ he said to me.
No doubt, there were always betters of better done things at this life...
It should have been a quite rare thing for a rascal at the age of twenty-three like me to have that much frequent and heavy love demand at those period. What could I do? I was a guy who’s been preferred by the girls; both before and after. I mean they wouldn’t let me go after they’ve gone to bed with me.  Maybe it was better to say ‘no’ to them virtuously. I was thinking like that, really. And maybe I could be...
However, for well you know, I was someone who was far away to live such a respectful life then.

18
THE LAST SHOW

At Istanbul, the autumn’s lived superbly. The sun is broken, the wheather becomes cooler, the colours of the trees and the sea creates a wonderful harmony. It happens a magical diversity to the always-beautiful atmosphere of the Bosphorus, where one can view that extraordinary silhouette of the historical peninsula at the time of the sunset. And I, in despite of all my pessimistisism, become freshened and try to live the flavour of the season.
At these months that the ground turned red, the sorrow in me would risen more, but anyway, I was a man of both joy and sorrow.  Through these periods, I used to get adapted to my unfulfilled desires inside me, and feel to satisfy the needs to do some different things.
The late-time show that I participated that October night at Haşmet’s was more crowded than the usual.  In a short period of time, it really turned into a ritual of rottenness.  There were new guests; two sisters who were watching us with admiration. As far as I understood, the elder one was Mamfi’s new gal Figen; I’ve heard her name before.
The girls have been seated by the big pillows on the floor, sipping slowly their drinks and watching the show. To lend wings to Arzu for a strip-tease show, I was playing one of the erotic songs that became classic.  Haşmet has wrapped a double-papered and he was trotting it round.  We have turned the beam of the terrace door into a gallows tree for the decor of the show that we’ve planned, and to the tip of the rope that we tied on it we have hung a huge rag doll where we placed two big flaming torches at both sides of it.
When Arzu finalized her session, I sat in front of the piano and start to play Chopin’s Funeral March. After a while, Haşmet and Zafer came in speaking Latin, dressed like monks within black sheets. Their faces were almost covered, and they have crosses and candles in their black gloved hands.  They sanctified all of us one by one.
They brought Nevzat from inside, dressed all in white, with his hands tied behind and sweeping his feet. It was written ‘testament’ on the big envelope hung on his neck.  While I was playing, they read his testament; it was a silly, funny thing.  Nevzat was leaving his hair to Mamfi to eliminate his definitive boldness problem in the future, his underpant to Arzu to wear at the shows, his sex organ to Haşmet to use as a fetish object when dried.  And finally he testated Nüket to me; what more could he do?
They took Nevzat on top of the stool, hooked the rope to his neck, and after a mob of funny ceremony the executioner finalized the operation. The other end of the rope was tied loose, the captive fell on the floor and acted like he’s dead. After the prays of the monks, Haşmet took the younger sister step up to the stool, we all applaused and whistled.  The girlie smiled at us in an emberassed face. They tied her hands back and folded her shirts neck to make her ready to be hanged.  Her all-white neck appeared, hooked to the knot. The crowd gathered around the gallows, and all were applausing with some fake exuberance.
Suddenly, I felt that I got bored; left playing piano and passed to the other side of the terrace door. I untied the end of the rope which has been lightly attached to a nail on the wall, and then fixated it strongly to the knob of the iron door. No body saw what I did. While the monks were counting the sins of the girl with some Latin-like sentences, Nevzat kicked the stool within a sight of an eye; thinking that the convict of death would fall on the floor.
Within a time unit that can be measured by split seconds, I’ve noticed the delicate body of the girl drop towards the floor at the end of the rope. Her feet kicked the air desperately like a fish on the bait, and saw the horror at her eyes that goggled out. Her neck stressed like a red rubber band, and there came out a strange, blood-curdling grunt from her protracted throat which the almost-ripped muscles held hardly together. All of her organs were fluttering with involuntary motions.
Nobody could recognize the dreadfulness of the happening for a long time; for they were not in the mood and expectancy to get into action and save the girl,  and I was watching those deadly flutterings  within cold blood. Without moving a single feather of mine. Her sister Figen, some time later awakened to the seriousity of the incidence.  Splitting the crowd, in panic, reached out to the bottom of the gallows.  She surrounded the trembling body of her sister, and tried to push her up. She was crying out and cursing at all of us. Mamfi helped her girl-friend and they saved the body from the tip of the rope and took it down.
The girl, laying all along the floor was shocked and she was still as a stone. Figen, with a useless bustle, trying to re-animate her; puffing air to her semi-open purple lips, skimmed her clothes and trying to do heart-massage with some clumsy strokes. The smell of the liquid that discharge from the urine sac of the unconscious girl reached at our noses. The tramps were confused. Without speaking, they were living the excitement of the last show that I introduced to them.
Figen requested Mamfi to take them to the hospital. She was continuously repeating that we were some rotten crowd of animals, and that she would complain us to the police.  Mamfi’s got afraid, he’s got to be in-between, and resentful to all of us. As soon as they got out of the door, there came out a silence that lasted a long time. The wheather’s turned sour. When the girls wanted to go back their homes, Zafer prepared to go out with Nüket. I stopped them with a harsh manner that they didn’t expect, and said ‘we’ll get out of here together. ’  I was offended to be treaten like a stranger.
After a little while, I felt that all the eyes escaped from me.  Somehow, they should’ve understood that I tied the tip of the rope and caused that indecent disaster. I was irritated but I wasn’t regretful. I was a real rolling stone; I used to play dangerous games.  Nüket has wanted me fot that reason, what happened to her and so she keeps away from me now?
To be obstructed from discreetness of somebody, is not something divine; its an excuse that we make up to ourselves for the covering of the silly mistakes that we’ve done. If I would’ve left there together with Mamfi and the sisters after the incidence, and took them to the hospital, the deal would be softened a bit, and the bricks would get together eventually.
Sometime later, some people called the house; Haşmet talked to them by giving off his eyes. When I stepped to the bar to prepare some drinks to reduce the stress of the environment, the doorbell rang, I opened the door. There were two policemen from the station.  They asked my name only, I’ve got to go to the station with them; there was a complaint about me. When I turned and looked at my back, I saw that there was no sign of anxiety felt for me at anybody’s face.
I passed the night in the lock-up of the Arnavutköy police station.  The father of the sisters should be a wheighty guy; they didn’t let me inform anybody, cut my hair, and beated me quite bad. I’ve deserved everything; showed no objection but just cried out in pain. They took my declaration, there was a serious complaint; I was wilfuly attempted to murder and I’ve done it all alone.
The next day, my mother retained a lawyer; he came there and spoke to me. Then I learned that he has convinced the family of the sisters; I stayed there one more night until the documents have been completed, then released out.
Nüket never called me again after that incidence. I went to the bar at Bebek a few times just for to see her, whenever I met someone from the crowd and attempted to talk, all the heads turned away from me.
The guy in Nüket’s mind wasn’t someone like me. And what’s more, she’s got nothing to do with a man who thought that he’s done something fine by rejecting her money offer, and that in fact, a coward like me who has no guts to try the opportunity.
What would happen if I owed her some money, and do that studio recordings to release an unsucccessful album? What could happen to be?
Would I be indebted to her, or would I be shameful to the people if not sold enough?
But what if I was successful? What if that music album would sold hundreds of thousands copies and I’d earn helluva money? Maybe Nüket has tested me to understand that if I were a useless man or not.
And she’s understood...
A man is to be courageous in order to be a real man. But my bravery was used to come out only for hanging the undefended girls to the tie beam.
Then, I’ve erased Mamfi, Haşmet and the dog named Nevzat from my book, and never met them again.They all were unworthy bastards. They left me alone like a stem and they burdened the crime totally onto my shoulders and quitted. As if there was nobody but me who’s done that shitty play; as if I organized it all by myself.
When I thought about the crimes that commited together, I remembered Ayhan again. In fact, that Yalova incidence never got off my mind since eight years. Each time I fell down, I was remembering the damned night that bruised my personality in an irrevocable way.  Fifteen days after that incidence which remained unforgettable scars on our lives, they’ve taken Ayhan from the school, and all the family have returned back to Izmir. I’ve never seen, talked, and heard from him ever again.
There were some points of breaks in a person’s lifeline; they look like junctions on a road. I’ve lived the night that I’ve lost my soulmate hundreds of times, like some ever repeating nightmare. The unsolved mysteries were to be revived distinct at my dreams. Maybe I should’ve found Ayhan and ask him that if he killed that man or not. God damn it, this wasn’t the only thing that I was hunting up.
After Ayhan, my communication has totally changed, not anyone has become a real friend of mine since then. I’ve turned into a man who changed face to the direction of the wind, trying many ragged ways to resist that unbearable boredom existed inside.
And when I lost Nüket, I lived the second breakdown in my life; I haven’t ate and drunk anything else but soup, and I haven’t got out of my bedroom for twelve days. My mother’s tried hard to take me to life again. Then I decided to resist; after a war that lasted many years, I finished the school, and then I started to do a business to earn money. This was the reason to keep on living:
When I become reach, I would find her once again.

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