"If we are to go down the memory lane, I will get on the table alone. No need for witnesses." - "A Trip Down the Memory Lane" / Vüs'at O. Bener

[Story]"The Root" | Melike Şenyüksel

The Root | Yunus Kocatepe


He had felt his legs breaking down and had leaned over that weak tree in the small park. He was never unsure that it could carry him, despite its weak appearance. He had trusted its roots clinging to the earth, even though its branches were dry. When the sharp air of betrayal hit one's face, he could only get hold of a tree.

He couldn't believe his eyes. His eyes smiling to the world just a few moments ago were caught hanging in emptiness now. Just like a kite of which body was wounded, caught by the wires.

There had to be an explanation to all this. An explanation to his beloved one's being in the arms of somebody else and passing by him a moment ago. She looked so happy walking in the arms of the man. In the arms of a stranger...

The woman didn't have clue of his presence there. That's because those pretty eyes were cast onto the other man, blind to anything else. He was unnoticed in that street picture. He was an insignificant element, forgotten in a dark corner. While everywhere was bright and living, he was just a side ornament that is out of this world, or he was a dark bush. The woman whom he wished to root forever had thrown him aside, detangling him from the root. He felt a few teardrops running down his cheeks to his neck and caught eyes of a boy trying to eat an ice-cream which seemed bigger than him. At the same time, he was shouting to his mother:

“Mom! Look at that man, he has stuck to the tree. Hah ha! How funny!”

On one hand, he was licking his ice-cream that is to be melting. He saw his mother's indifference and acted like his mother. He went his own way as if nothing was odd. Any man could lean over any tree at any day, of course.

He felt the hardness of the tree on his body. He tried to move. But his weariness hadn't yet faded away. If he let go off the tree, he would feel like collapsing. He had to stay like this a little more. He had already created a scene. He stayed thereby without moving. He thought of the roots of the tree growing under the earth. He thought of its branches, body, being upright, awesomeness. He had a lot to learn from it. He leaned his head to one of the dry branches. He was in the right place.

» You can read the story in Turkish from

Sayı: 47, Yayın tarihi: 07/07/2010

Translation published on 06/10/2010
Translated by Betül Erhan

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