What were the chances, being with freinds at a crouded bar, late at night, for our meeting to happen? Moon, a nice Corean girl tells me that my seat has been taken as I was talking to Chris. I turn around, and there is Gülsemin. A red headed rose that makes Istanbul tulips look lame. I start telling her that she took my seat, but the sentence never ends... I thought I didn't want the seat without her on it. All kinds of childhood memories filled up my head : Sitting on a branch of a tree, the taste of the peaches in the garden, my mom's smile, the red cheeks of that girl on the beach at Pont Blandin whose name I will never know, the first ride on my brother's bicycle, the taste of the first kiss... I was speechless, yet I spoke endlessly...
We shared meaningless thoughts. I spoke about the otomans, the almoravides, andalucia, and how a union between the turks and the moroccans could have overtaken the world. Needless to say, in all the simplicity of the talk, there was so much third degree metaphores. Oh God, how it feels nice when one can express his thoughts, and is understood with no need to explan! It feels so much better when the same conversation is taking place with a bombshell. I can't even start describing how it felt good that night talking to my rose. I was just a talk, but I felt that it was just the begining of something wonderful. We said goodbye, and I went on partying with my friends.
(to be continued -- out of battery power on my tablet, and in my turbulent heart)
Remember Me