വാരാണസി; അപഥസഞ്ചാരങ്ങളുടെ നിഴലുകള്‍ ചിത്തഭ്രമമാസ്വദിക്കുന്ന നഗരം.
കാറ്റും കരിമ്പനയോലകളും ഖസാക്കില്‍ നിന്നും പാറി വരുന്ന ഇതിഹാസത്തിന്റെ മണമുള്ള എട്ടുകാലിവലകളും നെഞ്ചേറ്റുന്ന പാലക്കാട്.
അറബിക്കടലിന്റെ മനോഹരിയായ റാണി, കൊച്ചി.
കേരളത്തിന്റെ രാഷ്ട്രീയ, സാമൂഹിക, സാഹിത്യ മേഖലകള്‍ കടപ്പെട്ടിരിക്കുന്ന നഗരം, കോഴിക്കോട്.
വളരെ സമ്പന്നമായ വിദ്യാഭ്യാസം,
ചിന്തോദ്ദീപകമായ രചനകള്‍.
ബ്ലോഗിന്റെ പേരിനോട് തികച്ചും നീതി പുലര്‍ത്തുന്നവ.....
"The Sultan wants me at the palazzo, I'll have to leave, dear" I said and made my way out of my mansion after kissing my beloved's cheek.
I worked as a minister in our Sultan's palazzo and people called me Hikmet; meaning wisdom. Ten years ago, I would have never even dreamt of living in Istanbul and serving the Sultan. My actual name was Ishak and I came from Persia, ten years ago. I had been a good scholar then and soon was deputed as one of the Sultan's ministers.
As I peregrinated towards the palazzo, I was occupied by the bustling activity in the streets. I observed children running and playing with the toy swords, the beautiful maidens gossiping and few street dogs languishing in the front of food stalls. I could hear the sound of musical instruments as i walked past dervish houses. Osman was busy persuading customers to buy the new arrivals at his garments store. What a clever tradesman! I thought. During my melancholy walk, I wondered why the Sultan had commissioned an order for me to arrive at the palazzo, as I knew I had completed all my work and was looking forward to spending a day with my wife.
The city was as beautiful as ever. I saw that the stunning minarets, tombs and mosques acquired a golden tinge in the morning sun. The cherry and Pomegranate trees had icicles on them. Nature was recovering from yesterday nights heavy snowfall. I couldn't help praising Allah and the beauty he has endowed in earth. The air was cool, fresh and had a sweet smell of lavender dispersed in it. The gorgeous maidens smiled at me as I glanced at them, their coquettish instincts showing off, probably being intimidated by the handsomeness I possessed.
Having walked for few minutes now, I could now see that I was approaching "Sultanahmet Camii" or the Blue mosque. With its 6 magnificent minarets, it was one of its kind. I stood gazing at this architectural marvel for some time. "The Ottomans were really gifted by Allah" I thought. I was awakened from my state of awe when the thought of Sultan's letter crossed my mind and continued walking to my destination, the palazzo.
The only way to find out the culprit was by torturing methods. The torturers took me and others branded as suspects into a dark room. We were stripped naked, Now, awaiting the torture, I cried to Allah. "How can they punish me? I am Innocent..Allah ! give me strength!! " A man closed in me with a dagger, or was it a dagger? I was not sure. I didn't dare to look.Soon I felt sharp pain, wincing, I jumped, and screamed at the top of my voice.
The pain subsided, I opened my eyes, to my amazement, I was sitting in my bed, sweating. I didn't have the long magnificent beard nor the fair, golden skin nor the ostentatious Turkish clothes. Grandfather was lighting the lamp. I saw the beautiful picture of lord Krishna, Ganesha and other deities in the room. Grandfather had just started praying.
I shoved the blanket and discovered the book I had left half-read last night- "My name is Red" by Orhan Pamuk. I took the book in my hands and buried my face in its pages. I reflected again my time in Istanbul and its mystic beauty, the people I met there, Gulben, the smell of lavender that hung in the air, the blue mosque and the handsome Hikmet or..Ishak.
Grandfather was getting irritated of the fact that I had not bothered to get up and offer my prayers. I quickly got up, prayed to lord and hurried downstairs. I stared aesthetically at the gorgeous morning sky, still, very different to the amethyst sky I saw in my dreams, where Eagles hovered over the myriad tombs and minarets of Istanbul. A strange hollow feeling haunted me, I wish I was still there, to prove my innocence to Sultan and continue my life as Hikmet, in the city where east meets west and which happens to be the most intelligent city of the world, Istanbul.
കാറ്റും കരിമ്പനയോലകളും ഖസാക്കില്‍ നിന്നും പാറി വരുന്ന ഇതിഹാസത്തിന്റെ മണമുള്ള എട്ടുകാലിവലകളും നെഞ്ചേറ്റുന്ന പാലക്കാട്.
അറബിക്കടലിന്റെ മനോഹരിയായ റാണി, കൊച്ചി.
കേരളത്തിന്റെ രാഷ്ട്രീയ, സാമൂഹിക, സാഹിത്യ മേഖലകള്‍ കടപ്പെട്ടിരിക്കുന്ന നഗരം, കോഴിക്കോട്.
വളരെ സമ്പന്നമായ വിദ്യാഭ്യാസം,
ചിന്തോദ്ദീപകമായ രചനകള്‍.
ബ്ലോഗിന്റെ പേരിനോട് തികച്ചും നീതി പുലര്‍ത്തുന്നവ.....
It was as if I was seeing myself for the first time! As I stood in front of the mirror, admiring myself, I caressed my magnificent black beard and glanced at the beauty of my golden colored skin. I had bought a Turkish cap last week from Osman; the clothier and I was going to wear it for the first time. Just then, Gulben, my beautiful wife entered. She had a glass of red cherry sherbet in her hands which I had ordered her to fetch. She looked even more beautiful in the slight ray of sunlight that hit the room. Her red veil though, hid her perfect face.
"The Sultan wants me at the palazzo, I'll have to leave, dear" I said and made my way out of my mansion after kissing my beloved's cheek.
I worked as a minister in our Sultan's palazzo and people called me Hikmet; meaning wisdom. Ten years ago, I would have never even dreamt of living in Istanbul and serving the Sultan. My actual name was Ishak and I came from Persia, ten years ago. I had been a good scholar then and soon was deputed as one of the Sultan's ministers.
As I peregrinated towards the palazzo, I was occupied by the bustling activity in the streets. I observed children running and playing with the toy swords, the beautiful maidens gossiping and few street dogs languishing in the front of food stalls. I could hear the sound of musical instruments as i walked past dervish houses. Osman was busy persuading customers to buy the new arrivals at his garments store. What a clever tradesman! I thought. During my melancholy walk, I wondered why the Sultan had commissioned an order for me to arrive at the palazzo, as I knew I had completed all my work and was looking forward to spending a day with my wife.
The city was as beautiful as ever. I saw that the stunning minarets, tombs and mosques acquired a golden tinge in the morning sun. The cherry and Pomegranate trees had icicles on them. Nature was recovering from yesterday nights heavy snowfall. I couldn't help praising Allah and the beauty he has endowed in earth. The air was cool, fresh and had a sweet smell of lavender dispersed in it. The gorgeous maidens smiled at me as I glanced at them, their coquettish instincts showing off, probably being intimidated by the handsomeness I possessed.
Having walked for few minutes now, I could now see that I was approaching "Sultanahmet Camii" or the Blue mosque. With its 6 magnificent minarets, it was one of its kind. I stood gazing at this architectural marvel for some time. "The Ottomans were really gifted by Allah" I thought. I was awakened from my state of awe when the thought of Sultan's letter crossed my mind and continued walking to my destination, the palazzo.
Sultan's men were waiting for me at the gate. They informed that a masterpiece of the great miniaturist Ismail Effendi that Sultan recently received had been stolen and I was one among the many suspects. I had seen the painting. It was a true wonder and to be honest, I had wished if I possessed it. Its exquisite work and embellishments would have had any person longing to possess it. But I had not stolen it. I wondered why the Sultan would suspect me. It was so harsh, being a loyal servant of the Sultan for years, how could he distrust me!?
The only way to find out the culprit was by torturing methods. The torturers took me and others branded as suspects into a dark room. We were stripped naked, Now, awaiting the torture, I cried to Allah. "How can they punish me? I am Innocent..Allah ! give me strength!! " A man closed in me with a dagger, or was it a dagger? I was not sure. I didn't dare to look.Soon I felt sharp pain, wincing, I jumped, and screamed at the top of my voice.
The pain subsided, I opened my eyes, to my amazement, I was sitting in my bed, sweating. I didn't have the long magnificent beard nor the fair, golden skin nor the ostentatious Turkish clothes. Grandfather was lighting the lamp. I saw the beautiful picture of lord Krishna, Ganesha and other deities in the room. Grandfather had just started praying.
I shoved the blanket and discovered the book I had left half-read last night- "My name is Red" by Orhan Pamuk. I took the book in my hands and buried my face in its pages. I reflected again my time in Istanbul and its mystic beauty, the people I met there, Gulben, the smell of lavender that hung in the air, the blue mosque and the handsome Hikmet or..Ishak.
Grandfather was getting irritated of the fact that I had not bothered to get up and offer my prayers. I quickly got up, prayed to lord and hurried downstairs. I stared aesthetically at the gorgeous morning sky, still, very different to the amethyst sky I saw in my dreams, where Eagles hovered over the myriad tombs and minarets of Istanbul. A strange hollow feeling haunted me, I wish I was still there, to prove my innocence to Sultan and continue my life as Hikmet, in the city where east meets west and which happens to be the most intelligent city of the world, Istanbul.
aashamsakal.....
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