Soluk Soluğa

March stands at the mouth of the early night. The street lights are already faded. The rain, suppressing the wind that was increasing in anger towards the evening, passes through the streets with the style of old furnaces, swallowing the gunshots rising from the main street. While curious windows are asking each other what's going on, a humming noise that becomes louder and louder as they get closer rises over the neighborhood. Or else?... No one wants to believe the bruised possibility on the tip of their tongue. The ashes of Sivas cannot have been scattered here either. In recent months, when the body of the young man, who was slapped saying "Are you a Kızılbaş" and put into a white Renault, was handed over to his family three days later with the report "He hanged himself", hundreds of people marched to the police station with an anger similar to summer heat. Although some old men, who had been using their coolness as a cooling system for a long time, intervened and calmed this grudge, from that day on, men who had fallen from the thousand-year-old tree of feudal pride were waited in coffeehouses covered with cigarette smoke that had lost their optimism; In this neighborhood, where women with swollen hands were kicked out of the houses they went to clean and could not prepare lunch boxes for their children, the word of death was the word whispered from ear to ear, and as the events accumulated, the most frequently mentioned thing, sometimes with longing and sometimes with curse, was the word death.
(From the Promotional Bulletin)



Number of Pages: 236

Print Year: 2013


Language: Turkish
Publisher: Ceylan Yayıncılık

First Printing Year: 2008

Language : Turkish