An old shirt and making plans

‘Always make a plan and stick to it, be it in a professional or personal life.’ Uncle, most of the time, finishes our Skype talk with this sentence. There are people who like making plans in everything all the time (my uncle is one of them).

Today, one of my shirts, a very old one took me five years back (Yeah, I am a saver, when I really like something I keep it for years.) I remembered I had bought that shirt as a birthday present for myself five years ago. Actually I had bought two, but I don’t know where the other one is now, although I still wear this one and take it with me wherever I go.

An old shirt and making a plan, huh?

Sure enough, I have my own connection between them. If you are still reading the post, one more step. While contemplating I realized when I bought that shirt I had totally different plans, in professional and personal life. There is nothing left from those plans in the current flow of my life. It is just me there at that time and here now, and my family and closest friends. The rest is gone far away as those plans are.

They didn’t work out, for good or bad,  no matter how determined I was  to stick to them since they were what I wanted at that time. Now I see a different me in a different place around different people.  I have new plans, but again I am determined to stick to these plans of mine (Sometimes, Uncle really convinces me how important making plans is.) Who knows?! Where I will be after five years, with whom and what percentage of my today’s plans will work out. So many questions. Again!

Learning while living is all we are supposed to do. Making plans, despite the fact that they might not work out, is very exciting; even the idea brings joy to the heart, and effort made to realize the plans is always worth.

While thinking about all of those plans, current plans, new people, new experiences a shy smile is searching somebody to smile at. Sending that smile to all of you who read my another not-very-clear-blog post in the end.

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Stop soldier death


Last year, at one point I stopped reading Azerbaijani news. It was because almost every day there was news about soldier deaths and suicides coming from the army. When I read last, I remember clearly there were more than thirty soldiers died in the army. They all had the same reasons; for suicide- psychological problems, for death- misuse of guns.  In a book by O.Pamuk ‘Snow’’ Ka goes back to a small Turkish city where plenty of young school girls commit suicide. One of his intentions to report on the suicides of young religious girls forbidden to wear head-scarves. I think we needed somebody like him to go to the army and investigate the reason, the real reason behind the deaths and suicides. But there was not anybody and we all waited till the death of Jeyhun Gubatov, because this time they failed to say it was misuse of gun or suicide.  ( Although, in the paper sent to the mother from the officials it says the reason of his death was connected to the heart problem .)

He is one of those young kids coming from poor  and one-parent family, which is why he was sent to one of the rural regions in the army. (Like unwritten rules in my culture which is called ‘mentalitet’ there are unwritten rules in the army service too.)  In the third month of his service he was killed. Don’t you think by an Armenian in the front line. He was killed by other Azerbaijani soldiers with whom he was serving. Yes, 19-year-old Jeyhun, the only son of a mother who had to raise him all alone was beaten up  to death by his fellow soldiers in the army. That is what, finally, awaken us-Azerbaijanis.

Today, in Baku, there will be a protest, hopefully! I have never been any part of any protest. However, I want to join my fellow citizens who are protesting against soldier deaths in the army. This protest is not simply against the soldiers who killed Jeyhun or the government officials who let such kind of terrible things happen. I think we are protesting against us too. No matter how ugly it sounds, but it is true the doers of this terrible thing are Azerbaijani soldiers, so we are protesting against our friends, neighbors, brothers, partners, fellow citizens- male Azerbaijanis. We are telling them don’t beat each other! Don’t insult!! Don’t kill! You are in the army to protect one  another too not just your country.

We need to change things!

P.S. Before we all the Azerbaijanis have heard lots of stories from army: how stronger, richer, more educated, more experienced soldiers beat weaker ones. My friends know that I have a term for a group of boys in Azerbaijan, I call them ‘special guys’. They are the guys who chase girls in the streets, who say stupid words to them, thinking they are cool, in short, boys who think they are better than girls by just being a boy and have all kind of rights to insult girls they don’t  even know.  We can’t really find reasons to their ‘special’ behavior, but taking into consideration the army situation they must be those who have been beaten and insulted in the army, so that when they are back they do beat and insult their women to feed their ego, with an attempt to provide themselves with the self-confidence they never possessed. Quick note here, in Azerbaijan there are decent boys too that don’t deserve to be called ‘special guy’ at all.

More

More..

everything is more now..

the more I think about you

the more I want to come to you…

I miss you more

I love you more now..

I want to run to you

stand in front of you

looking right into your eyes

shout I need you more now!

 

It all started from a line

Being persistent always pays off; when we really want something we never give up until we get what we want.

I think it is the same in relationships, if there is love, which holds different definitions for different people, then there will be a happy beginning, eventually. In other words, if we want to spend a lifetime with our beloved person we will not surrender to any kind of difficulties standing on our way. As lazy people do-how they can convince others showing hundred of excuses for their laziness- it is the same in relationship, the person who does not want to make a commitment will come up with dozens of excuses convincing everybody around, particularly, the opposite side that s/he is a good person  but… there is nothing acceptable to continue this sentence.

I recall our professor at our university in Baku, who already had pretty enough life experience to share with students from time to time.  It was last day of university years, he was blaming young generation, as most other members of older generation do, that young generation, we, consume everything in a very greedy way.

Out of his words, I never forget what he said about confessing love. He said: “I still remember that very first time I told my wife I loved her, and it took me years to tell her that very sentence, although I loved her and cared about her long before that day. But you guys, meet today and tomorrow express your so-called love, of which you have no single idea”. Our professor, of whom, we thought as a very shy boy back then, had a point. I have started to understand his point as I add years onto my age. Love is not in words, but in actions. It is not in text messages, or chats but in a warm look staring right into your eyes expressing readiness to make sacrifice for you as it is what it takes. Continue reading

Pacifier tree

Germans in Germany are surprising me more and more every passing day. I hope one day I will be able to gather all my observations in one post. While waiting for that time I wanted to share with you a tree of pacifiers; a Pacifier Tree.
In my home country- Azerbaijan, host country -Bulgaria and in neighborhood countries -Georgia and Turkey I have seen -probably you too if you have visited, at least, one of them -wish trees from which people hang small pieces of clothes, and wish something.  While we were visiting a small town-Passau we saw a tree with pacifiers. The three rivers city- Passau will always be on my mind as a city with a pacifier tree.

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On Living- a poem by Nazim Hikmet

In the midst of questions on life and living, I remembered this poem by a Turkish poet, Nazim Hikmet.  First time I heard it years ago, it got me thinking how we need to live in order to be able to say I lived. I am keeping my thoughts on life and living to myself to let you enjoy this beautiful poem. The video is in Turkish, however you can read English version of it. For the English version of his other poems check this website.

On Living

I

Living is no laughing matter:
you must live with great seriousness
like a squirrel, for example–
I mean without looking for something beyond and above living,
I mean living must be your whole occupation.
Living is no laughing matter:
you must take it seriously,
so much so and to such a degree
that, for example, your hands tied behind your back,
your back to the wall,
or else in a laboratory
in your white coat and safety glasses,
you can die for people–
even for people whose faces you’ve never seen,
even though you know living
is the most real, the most beautiful thing.
I mean, you must take living so seriously
that even at seventy, for example, you’ll plant olive trees–
and not for your children, either,
but because although you fear death you don’t believe it,
because living, I mean, weighs heavier.

Continue reading

The third with shiny eyes reads ‘ Silent-Sippers vs. Noisy Sippers’

There were bittersweet times when three of them would sit, eat and talk about things. Yes, daily stuff. However, those talks would end, most of the time, with small fight that would bring up discussions. Those small fights had the same reason every time, and it would be repeated over and over again.

It was noise, the invisible cause of fights was noise. Thus, two of them would make noise while eating and sipping, well, on purpose of course, since they knew the third one would get annoyed very much. It was one of the rare cases that one would see the third one annoyed and very angry.

One day, the third one stumbled upon a post called ‘Silent-Sippers vs. Noisy-Sippers‘.  That is what I needed, the third thought since explaining and asking two wouldn’t do any good, and decided not to just join the union of Silent-Sippers but also create a union for Silent-Eaters.