Our Grand Despair Page #3

She's so confident lately.

She doesn't treat us

like big brothers anymore.

Can you write a poem for me?

Something about the pain and

uncertainty I've gone through.

A poem?

A poem.

A poem about the pain and

uncertainty you've gone through?

Nihal.

I'd love to,

but I can't write poetry.

Reading inspires some to write,

but it's the opposite for me.

Let me explain.

I think divine things,

such as writing should

ultimately inspire us to live

without doing these things.

Literature should inspire this

and so should prayer. Understand?

Writers, especially poets, have

a problematic relationship with beauty.

They either want to succumb

to it or reign over it.

They can't be in harmony with beauty.

Don't you think that's silly?

Mankind does such

silly things sometimes.

Reality can't be transformed

into art anytime we wish.

It's not same tangible object that some

alchemist can transform into art or poetry.

It's the most beautiful

thing I've ever read.

What did you mean by

"What the seasons cannot repeat?"

Don't do this to me, Nihal.

Don't do this.

I'm craving kokorec. Should we go out?

I'm not in the mood.

F*** your mood. Let's go.

Time out. We're going for kokorec.

No, thanks.

Everything alright?

Fine.

Can I bring over friends this Saturday?

We should get Fikret's approval first.

Come on!

Friends from school?

For dinner?

Just a visit during the day.

You'll meet them.

OK.

Here we are.

Welcome!

Welcome.

Is it cold?

- Yes.

Winter is here.

This is Bora.

Cetin and Ender.

- Ender and Cetin.

Pleased to meet you.

- Me, too.

Well,

enjoy yourselves. We gotta go, right?

Nihal, tea will be

ready soon. Around 2:40.

Sprinkle coconut shavings on the cake.

As for liqueurs I have

cognac in my room. OK?

Great.

Bye.

Bye.

- See you.

This is a poem in a language

I only learned recently.

I know it better than my own,

for the love of my teacher.

Who am I,

smeared in the desert,

sun beating my forehead,

who am I?

Three days to go before me

and savage words

hover about my head

Who am I,

when you say my name,

picking fruits from your voice?

To the red sunset where meaning sinks

a chaotic caravan inside me

Who am I to carry dreams to you?

Sky low,

sweater tight,

short of experience, tell me, who am I?

Did you sleep with Nihal?

You want to get punched?

Don't question me like that.

Why not?

When I was at work or in Istanbul.

So did you?

Stop it.

I'm not like you, making

out with girls at weddings.

You know I don't like this kind of talk.

But why?

You slept with Sevgi.

It's OK to do it...

But not to talk about it.

Sensitive gentleman, my ass!

Cetin, the question is not

if I slept with her,

but if I loved her.

Imbecile!

Love Nihal?

You love her?

Bullshit.

You only love yourself, as usual.

Funds are available

for debts and real estate,

but not for education and health!

Capitalist mentality!

Policies for the people

will enable everyone to benefit

from free and good education.

Speak up! Claim it!

Education is a right!

Speak up! Claim it!

Education is a right!

We won't allow them to mess

with our future anymore.

Schools shouldn't be run

by merchant-like boards.

Let's not produce conformist

citizens for monopolies.

Don't let schools become assembly lines.

Universities back to the students!

Universities back to the students!

Can I have a beer?

What's up?

Nihal is pregnant.

We had lunch today.

She's worried, afraid.

She doesn't want to tell Fikret.

Nor you.

She needs help to get an abortion.

She needs a doctor.

And money, a loan.

What did you say?

I said we'll help if she wants the baby.

But she's set on an abortion.

I got her an appointment

for next Tuesday.

Where have you been?

What's up?

Grad studies or whatever the f*** she

does, send her to Germany with Fikret!

Tell me what happened.

That Bora guy came too.

Driving home he asked: "Can you drop us

at my place?" And Nihal didn't object!

It was too much, dropping

them off together.

How much more must we bear?

We open our hearts,

our home to her highness.

And look what she does!

Have you eaten?

Did you turn the stove off?

I did.

Shall we make zucchini with rice?

They're rotting in the fridge.

OK.

With red pepper paste

and dried mint on top.

Garlic would go well.

And local yogurt.

Could it have been different?

I guess not.

Useless to ask, but I can't help it.

Could it have turned out differently?

I don't know, guys.

I was scared for Cetin.

If I had been alone...

I was 18.

Cetin was only in third grade.

Imagine, university and

the bank at the same time.

But I thought of him.

I was afraid something...

would happen to him.

I was so worried that Cetin

would slip through my fingers.

Then he ran away in sixth grade.

We laugh now,

but then...

I felt I had failed.

It was really bad.

Actually, you know what my mistake was?

Thinking I could handle

such a heavy burden.

Losing our parents,

still being a kid...

I thought:
"Hey, I'm alive!"

I can handle it.

I'm on my feet, I have a job.

Cetin must go to school.

I expected a disaster, but...

nothing happened.

Things happen with time.

Without noticing it go by.

Cetin

became the Cetin he is now.

And I, this Murat...

Weighed down with

heavy responsibilities.

Something in me still

doesn't feel right.

Are you OK?

It's nothing.

If you want to talk...

I'm sorry.

Mrs. Nurten wants to know

if there's a problem.

It's nothing, I'm sorry.

Has she eaten anything?

No.

She can't resist this.

Ice cream?

Welcome.

How are you?

You lost weight.

Didn't they feed you?

The stress of graduation.

She spent the last month in her room,

her head buried in books.

Come on, let's go.

I'll take your bag.

Fix your collar.

Have it ironed better.

Tuck in your belly.

I'm stressed out.

Is the lady on her way?

Yeah shortly.

Here she is. Come.

Very pretty. Ready?

Smile please.

And...

Cetin's right. We shouldn't change real

estate agents, but she's not trustworthy.

I say furnished, she asks to

put the furniture in storage.

That much furniture in storage?

If it's furnished, she says only

students or foreigners will rent it.

It doesn't matter.

I'm OK with students.

We've been there too,

can't forget those days.

We've already locked

the private stuff into one room.

If she doesn't call next week,

you guys will have to deal with it.

Are you laughing at me?

Do I talk too much?

Watch out for the mirror.

"To the two best guys in the world."

- What?

"To the two best guys in the world."

Why do you think Nihal wrote that?

Cause we're good,

aren't we?

Of course we're good.

Are we writing her back?

We are.

But what?

I have something in mind.

But let's not use those

machines to post it.

Let's use real stamps.

- My good buddy!

You're a great man.

There's a series with flowers

and birds. Let's use those.

OK.

Go on, play, play.

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