Perihan Akçay
Çeviri: Ömer Muhtar Akkaş
Spring… Blessed time of the year when the earth speaks on behalf of the Creator. Excitement of rebirth in nature touches all the hearts so that one feels enlightened with this unrivaled energy boost.
I, who want to paint the spring with my brush… Birds that are chirping together happily… Trees, ornaments of green fields, are trying to revive… Crowds that are trying to breathe under the delicate boughs of those trees… We are all ready to change. Only one that does not change is the Almighty Hand, who ceaselessly gives life to the universe… It is like, in front of all these beauties, he wants us to remember, remember him who never changes…
Constantly in chaotic places, we are used to the change even in spirit, we should be afraid of that unchanging hand. This should drive the human to live a more venerable life. But, alas no! Even in our daily lives we stumble upon such events, it is impossible to mot lose hope. Sometimes one suspects “Will humans learn to live humanely one day?” For instance, I should tell you about a sorrowful event I lived last week.
We were going to coast of Beyşehir Lake as a family. To take advantage of spring. You know how hard it is to love birds, flowers in gardens, from a far, from pictures. The Generous Sole Owner of the spring has given us daisies poppies, fragrant thymes etc. without sparing anything. When we stumbled upon some storks that made nests at power grids near the town of Yenidoğan, with an admiration for their innocent whiteness, we got off the car and started watching them. Just a little further, a stork was circling its nest, landing on and off trying feed the fish in its beak to its young. Apparently it caught them off the lake. A moment later it took off again. Suddenly, we heard several gunshots. Then we saw that happy stork which was flying happily opening its white wings, falling down like a ball. Some of the storks which were wandering the fields flew away, some suffered the same fate with it. My husband ran to the car in terror and sounded the horn, to warn the stork killers that we cannot see from far away. If it was possible he would have driven into the rough terrain and go next to them. But, who cares. When weapons started firing again, we drove off quickly to not become a victim of a random gunfire.
* * * * *
That’s it my friends. Complex, but a great natural order. Flowers invite bees by putting out smells. Bees make honey, catering to people. But this is human! So ungrateful. They are even killing storks without a reason. When we were in Hüyük couple years ago, I witnessed some neighboring kids constantly hunting sparrows. I was shocked when I found out the reason for it. They told me that their fathers and grandfathers were encouraging them. I am baffled by the minds which think that they will gain a youth elixir or a healing from a droplet like meat of that tiny bird. What about storks? Why would they kill them? Even their meat is inedible. These are suffering homesick birds. They are guests here from kilometers away. Our ancestors called them pilgrims, imagining that they are flying around Hejaz and hills of Arafat. Every spring they waited their return impatiently. You will salute the pilgrims. That’s all! It is not enough to deprive them from salutation, even killing them mercilessly. Can you believe this? We have already depleted our rivers and lakes. We have ruined the habitats of our birds. What’s more, we are not even ashamed of killing them. Believe me, even though many days have passed the trace of witnessing this traumatic scene has never left me. In fact, my friends told me about an event in Gaziantep in the past months. “A man killed the cat with a shotgun that ate his goose fledgling. Getting angry, the owner of the cat killed the man with a long knife. I thought that incident was unbelievable. But today, I can’t stop the surging negative emotions in me when I think about the cruel spirited people that bloodied the wings of moor sultans.
“Folks! If you wonder about what is civility. Know this, civility is being able to show patience and endurance against every vulgarity.” says Rumi. Let graceful storks fall on red poppies one by one. Leave their fledglings as orphans. It is impossible to tolerate these shameless beings.
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