Tale of the One

And watching a human living is like watching a comet falling. First, a little spark occurs, then the explosions… Pure vibes of the childhood transforms to the passionate youth...

  • 14.11.2016
  • Pelin Sürmeli

And there they were, people gathered under the same vault of heaven. Legend has it, they were created by stardust. Maybe they were looking at the sky in the darkest nights to imagine their homelands, who knows… But one thing for sure, my beloved friends, that they have never changed since the first day they landed to the planet earth…

Time is relatively faster in earth. One lifespan of us equals thousands of human lives. And watching a human living is like watching a comet falling. First, a little spark occurs, then the explosions… Pure vibes of the childhood transforms to the passionate youth. Different lands, different eras, different stories of them, yet the feelings are the same… They get furious and hate, they fall in love but lie, they get disappointed and they lose. Within the fragments of eternity, they all go watch the sunrise to burn their tears with the first lights of the day. They all wait the soft afternoon sun to dream. They all drink wine when evenfalls and make love for the sake of the night. After all those memories of their life, like a meteorite accelerating upon the space, they all burn. Suddenly, time disappears. They become more ash rather than flesh, they become less and less, and eventually they burn out. They left a bright yellow scar on the dark sky after freefall, like brush strokes of Van Gogh…

And then, that is it. Everyone seeks a unique melody, yet they are nothing else but a huge crown of dancers for the same song. Sometimes in joy, sometimes in sorrow, but always sharing with the same steps with other people from thousands years ago. In other words, my beloved friends, it is like watching a comet falling. All you need to do is to hear the stories of the stars…

Share this post:

Similar Articles:

Prologue III

Prologue III

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.

Read more
Saddler Abdullah Usta

Saddler Abdullah Usta

We are passing through authentic mosques remained from Aydınids (or Aydınid dynasty) in Tire district of İzmir. We are looking over stone houses while we are breathing smell of saddle inside the historical bazaar. We visit Abdullah Usta whose shop is placed on the left side when moving to Paşa Mosque. He started his own craft, which was inherited from his father, in 1962. We are speaking a 54-year saddler Usta.

Read more
From Iskilip

From Iskilip

A sincere gaze at İskilip from Kadir Tahtacı's lens...

Read more