Seventy Thousand Assyrians

I said goodbye to the young Assyrian and left the shop...
I was thinking about what happened: the Assyrian country, the Assyrian Theodore Badal who was learning barbering, the sadness in his voice, the despair in his attitude.
This was months ago, in August, but since then I want to say something about Theodore Badal, the young, alert but hopeless son of an ancient people who has been thinking about the Assyrian country. Seventy thousand Assyrians, only seventy thousand people remain from this great people, the rest are in the sleep of death, all that greatness is ruined and forgotten.
It is not fair to isolate him from others because he is dishonorable. Just as the Armenian suffers, the Turk also suffers. It sounds ridiculous, but I wouldn't have known that then. I could not have known that the person we call Turk was a humble, sweet-hearted wretch who followed the path he was forced to follow. That hating him is equivalent to hating an Armenian made from the same cloth. My grandmother didn't know, and still doesn't know. I am aware of this now, but how much is it worth?
Poor Markar. Anyone who watched him sleep would think that no one in the world had any troubles, his snoring was as rich as a merchant's; for in such things men are equal... In simple things all men are side by side, common, sad and worthless; In a good market, a man's money is worth a thousand. In the unity of nakedness, the poor man is a brother with the priest, the poet and the politician. Take the turban from the head of the most magnificent person; pull off the black robe of the pious priest; take confidence from the proud heart; consolation from the arrogant soul, what remains? A groan, a itch, a snore, a sniffle, a whine; Jumping like a goat, a fart and a parrot's ridiculous speech.


Thin Cover:

Number of Pages: 192

Print Year: 2016


e-Book: < br>
Number of Pages: 190

Printing Year: 2004


Language: Turkish
Publishing House: Aras Publishing

First Printing Year: 2004

Number of Pages: 192