Galata is remarkably worldly-wise for the city. It is the one that separates guest from host, right from wrong and sake from waiter. Dilemma of victims, Breath of timid strays, It sees tearful flagstones, reveals them.

What relieves human beings after all turmoil? Either ecstatic laughter of sea gulls, or strokes of hammers into copper pieces firmly. Just eyes see crowded bazaars, a craftsman just makes the first sale of the day, pathways are just paced without tiring, and then human misses the peace.

In Anatolia, love happens at a snail’s pace, summer is as arid as a desert. The reason behind hiding the loved one in the darkness of nights is a tendency for a lover. It is the chance that for the lover that a gentle breeze somehow sweeps down to the window. Whatever that could not be told before, is whispered slowly through the breeze at that night.