I run with powerful and swift strides, not turning off the lights on my light up sports shoes. I’m 10 years old, and I’m with my loved ones, but separations begin later.
It’s as if since that day, I’ve been running non-stop and swiftly. My mother and father never let go of my hand, and they lift me up every time I fall.
Ten years go by, and I still don’t understand some things. They tell me I should stand tall like the letter alif.
I scream, there’s no one else who hears me except Him; I cry, there’s no one else who sees me except Him. I’m amidst the wreckage, and I ask myself: “Does a person only die when their heart stops?” Can someone truly live without a spiritual heart that’s alive? Or can a person who falls into despair be considered alive?
I arrive in front of the house where I was born, and I remember the verse: “Did you think that We created you in vain, and that you should devote all your time to play and entertainment, and that you would not be brought back to Us (Al-Mu’minun, 23:115).
I reach the end of the debris-filled street and say, “I will live so that others may live!” I lean on these lines: “The motto ‘So that others may live’ and wishing eternal happiness for all have been our passion. This passion is so intense that if it were at all possible to come back to this life after death and we were given the right to choose, we would still prefer others’ lives to our own. The true horizons of humanity we would fix our direction towards; thoughts of revival we would breathe with; degradations we would close our eyes to; fuss about fundamentalism we would not be deceived by; those who come forward with slanders, calumnies, and accusations we would not be upset by or despair at; unrelenting violations and attacks of the severest kind we would bury in our chests; when it hurts inside, we would still manage to smile; when the magma inside erupts, we would suppress our exasperation so that no one is hurt or disturbed; and we would always display the privilege of being human.”[1]
Now I realize that the stale bread we throw away is just as delicious as the fresh bread coming out of the oven. We do not need to say, “There’s nothing left to watch on TV.” We can also enjoy a night admiring the Divine art manifested on the Moon. Early school registrations, clothes kept for another day, bed linens we haven’t even unpacked, the sounds that never diminish inside the house… It only took seconds for all of them to turn into rubble.
The transience of worldly life is deeply felt… Eight months pass, and I know no one is more merciful than Him.
[1] M. Fethullah Gülen, “Sükûtun Çığlıkları”, herkul.org/kirik-testi/kirik-testi-sukutun-cigliklari/
