I knew this was not to be my fate。 He brought the inkpot down onto my
head once again。 I was in such a state of profound torment that I could only
vaguely discern the impact。 He； the inkpot and the room illuminated faintly by
the candle had already begun to fade。
Yet； I was still alive。 My desire to cling to this world； to run away and escape
him； the flailing of my hands and arms in an attempt to protect my face and
bloody head； the way； I believe； I bit his wrist at one time； and the inkpot
striking my face made me aware of this。
We struggled for a while； if you can call it that。 He was very strong and very
agitated。 He laid me out flat on my back。 Pressing his knees onto my
shoulders； he practically nailed me to the ground while he raved on in a very
disrespectful tone； accosting me； a dying old man。 Perhaps because I could
neither understand nor listen to him； perhaps because I took no pleasure in
looking into his bloodshot eyes； he struck my head once more。 His face and his
entire body had bee bright red from the ink splattering out of the inkpot；
and I suppose； from the blood splattering out of me。
Saddened that the last thing I’d ever see in this world was this man who
would be my enemy； I closed my eyes。 Thereupon； I saw a soft； gentle light。 The
light was as sweet and enticing as the sleep I thought would straightaway ease
all my pains。 I saw a figure within the light and as a child might； I asked； “Who
are you？”
“It is I； Azrael； the Angel of Death；” he said。 “I am the one who ends man’s
journey in this world。 I am the one who separates children from their
mothers； wives from their husbands； lovers from each other and fathers from
their daughters。 No mortal in this world avoids meeting me。”
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When I knew death was unavoidable； I wept。
My tears made me profoundly thirsty。 On the one hand there was the
stupefying agony of my face and eyes drenched in blood； on the other hand
there was the place where frenzy and cruelty ceased； yet that place was strange
and terrifying。 I knew it to be that illumined realm； the Land of the Dead； to
which Azrael beckoned me； and I was frightened。 Even so； I knew I couldn’t
long remain in this world that caused me to writhe and howl in agony。 In this
land of frightful pain and torment； there was no place for me to take solace。 To
stay； I’d have to resign myself to this unbearable torment and this was
impossible in my elderly condition。
Just before I died； I actually longed for my death； and at the same time； I
understood the answer to the question that I’d spent my entire life pondering；
the answer I couldn’t find in books： How was it that everybody； without
exception； succeeded in dying？ It was precisely through this simple desire to
pass on。 I also understood that death would make me a wiser man。
Noheless； I was overe with the indecision of a man about to take a
long journey and unable to refrain from taking one last glance at his room； at
his belongings and his home。 In a panic I wished to see my daughter one last
time。 I wanted this so badly I was prepared to grit my teeth for a while longer
and endure the pain and my increasing thirst； to wait for Shekure’s return。
And thus； the deathly and gentle light before me faded somewhat； and my
mind opened itself up to the sounds and noises of the world in which I lay
dying。 I could hear my murderer roaming around the room； opening the
cabi； rifling through my papers and searching intently for the last picture。
When he came up empty…handed； I heard him pry open my paint set and kick
the chests； boxes； inkpots and folding worktable。 I sensed that I was groaning
now and then and making odd twitching gestures with my old arms and tired
legs。 And I waited。
My pain was not abating in the least。 I grew increasingly silent and could no
longer stand to grit my teeth； but again； I held on； waiting。
Then it occurred to me； if Shekure came home； she might encounter my
ruthless murderer。 I didn’t want to even think about this。 At that instant； I
sensed that my murderer had exited the room。 He’d probably found the last
painting。
I’d bee excessively thirsty but still I waited。 e now； dear daughter；
my pretty Shekure； show yourself。
She did not e。
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I no longer had strength to withstand the suffering。 I knew I would die
without seeing her。 This seemed so bitter I wanted to die of misery。 Afterward；
a face I’d never seen before appeared to my left； and smiling all the while； he
kindly offered me a glass of water。
Forgetting all else； I greedily reached for the water。
He pulled the glass back： “Denounce the Prophet Muhammad as a liar；” he
said。 “Deny all that he has said。”
It was Satan。 I didn’t answer； I wasn’t even afraid of him。 Since I never once
believed that painting amounted to being duped by him； I waited confidently。
I dreamed of the endless journey that awaited me and of my future。
Meanwhile； as I was approached by the illuminated angel whom I’d just
seen； Satan vanished。 Part of me knew that this glowing angel who had caused
Satan to flee was Azrael。 But another rebellious part of my mind remembered
that in the Book of the Apocalypse it was written that Azrael was an angel with
one thousand wings spanning East and West and that he held the whole world
in his hands。
As I grew more confused； the angel bathed in light approached as if ing
to my aid； and yes； just as Gazzali had stated in Pearls of Magnificence； he
sweetly said：
“Open your mouth so that your soul might leave。”
“Nothing but the besmele prayer ever leaves my mouth；” I answered him。
This was just one last excuse however。 I knew I could no longer resist； that
my time had now e。 For a moment I was embarrassed at having to leave
my bloodied and ugly body in this miserable condition for my daughter；
whom I’d never see again。 But I wanted to leave this world； shedding it like
some tight…fitting garment that pinched。
I opened my mouth and abruptly all was color just as in the pictures of Our
Prophet’s Miraj journey； during which he visited Heaven。 Everything was
flooded in exquisite brightness as if generously painted with gold wash。 Painful
tears flowed from my eyes。 A strained exhalation passed from my lungs
through my mouth。 All was subsumed in wondrous silence。
I could see now that my soul had left my body and that I was cupped in
Azrael’s hand。 My soul； the size of a bee； was bathed in light； and it shuddered
as it left my body and continued to tremble like mercury in Azrael’s palm。 My
thoughts were not of this； however； but of the unfamiliar new world I’d just
been born into。
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After so much suffering； a calm overcame me。 Death did not cause me the
pain I’d feared； on the contrary； I relaxed； quickly realizing that my present
situation was a permanent one； whereas the constraints I’d felt in life were
only temporary。 This was how it would be from now on； for century upon
century； until the end of the universe。 This neither upset nor gladdened me。
Events I’d once endured briskly and sequentially were now spread over infinite
space and existed simultaneously。 As in one of those large double…leaf
paintings wherein a witty miniaturist has painted a number of unrelated
things in each corner—many things were happening all at once。
194
I； SHEKURE
It was snowing so hard that snowflakes occasionally passed right through my
veil into my eyes。 I picked my way through the garden covered in rotting grass；
mud and broken branches； then quickened my pace once I’d exited onto the
street。 I know you’re all wondering what I’m thinking。 How much do I trust
Black？ Let me be frank with you； then。 I myself don’t know what to think。 You
do understand； don’t you？ I’m confused。 This much； however； I do know： As
always； I’ll fall into the routine of meals； children； my father and errands； and
before long my heart； without even having to be asked； will whisper the truth
to me of its own accord。 Tomorrow； before noon； I’ll know whom I am to
marry。
I want to share something with you before I arrive home。 No！ e off it；
now； it’s not about the size of that monstrosity Black showed me。 If you want
we can talk about that later。 What I was going to discuss was Black’s haste。 It’s
not that he seems to think only of satisfying his lust。 To be honest； it’d make
no difference if he did。 What surprises me is his stupidity！ I suppose it never
crossed his mind that he could frighten and abduct me； play with my honor
and put me off； or open the door to even more dangerous outes。 I can tell
from his innocent expression how much he loves and desires me。 But after
waiting twelve years； why can’t he play the game according to the rules and
wait another twelve days？
Do you know I have the sinking feeling I’ve fallen in love with his
inpetence and his melancholy childlike glances？ At a time when it
would’ve been more appropriate to be irate with him； instead； I pitied him。
“Oh； my poor child；” a voice inside me said； “you suffer such torment and are
still so utterly inpetent。” I felt so protective of him that I might’ve even
made a mistake； I might’ve actually given myself to that spoiled little boy。
Thinking of my unfortunate children； I quickened my steps。 Just then； in
the early darkness and blinding snow； I thought a phantom of a man would
run right over me。 Ducking my head； I slipped by him。
Upon entering through the courtyard gate； I knew that Hayriye and the
children hadn’t yet returned。 Very well then； I’d e back in time； the
evening prayers hadn’t yet been called。 I climbed the stairs； the house smelled
of orange jam。 My father was in his darkened room with the blue door； my
feet were freezing。 I entered my room to the right beside the stairs holding a
lamp； and when I saw that the cabi had been opened； that the cushions had
195
fallen out and the room had been ransacked； I assumed it was the naughty
work of Shevket and Orhan。 There was a silence in the house； not unusual； yet
unlike the usual silence。 I donned my house clothes and sat alone in the
darkness； and as I gave myself over to momentary daydreaming； my mind
registered a noise ing from below； directly below me； not from the kitchen
but from the large room next to the stable； used in summertime as the
illustrating workshop。 Had my father gone down there； in this cold？ I didn’t
remember seeing the light of an oil lamp there； suddenly； I heard the squeak of
the front door between the stone walkway and the courtyard； and afterward；
the cursed and ominous barking of the pesky dogs roaming past the courtyard
gate—I was alarmed； to put