Happy B-day, Dearest Gentleman by the Bosphorus Strait


Happy B-day, Dearest Gentleman by the Straights

La multi ani, ….escu!

Happy B-day, Gentleman by the Bosphorus Strait!


Sometimes we stumble into the right people for us, at the very crossroads of life.

We take a road, only to have it lead into the very hearts of the people destined for us.

In my case, the Bosphorus strait turned out to be, despite all the drama, the very shelter of empowerment, encouragement and love for a lady girl from Damascus, such as myself.

“You have got the very great stubbornness of a mule in you.”
“Sende keçi inadı var”, He, the Gentleman by the Straights, would tell me.
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... nobody squeezes a lemon, like the Gentleman by the Strait.
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Limone sul Garda – Waketon Road
In the context of the annual workshop organized by the Romanian Cultural Institute in Istanbul:
"You shouldn't waste your time translating.
What you ought to start doing, at once, is start writing.
You ought to write a book.
Not to translate one.  Go on: Write!"

We are all a bouquet of souls.

And each one of us has unique needs, aspirations and desires.

These very needs are ours to behold and cherish.

At times, they might contravene with the conventional norms of daily life, of society, at large.

I for one have been divergent, most of the time.

Oftentimes, I have been told to fit in.

Many others, that I was the "other".

Irrespective of time and space, religion or culture, my personal magnet would always, but always attract soulful and heartful roses.

Hearts of a feather align together -- as ONE

And on my way forward to Damascus, I have stumbled into the Gentleman by the Straights.

The Coolest Genius of the Gentleman by the Bosphorus Strait!

For as "abnormal" and "unbalanced" in your genius as you are ... you are and shall forever be the very Gentleman by the Strait.

The very first person to believe in me and the capacities of my brain.

The very first person to recognize me.

To see me.

To Love Me, in your Allah ya3tiki al 3afiye way.

And they have been jealous, they have.

This is a very special dish for Sapiens.

Whenever Sapiens sniffs in the fragrance of a love story, many have to veto it. Because if they don't... if they neither can feel it nor possess it, well, my dearest, then why not interfere, sow intrigue, generate hubbub and havoc.

Why succumb to the flame of the heart, when we have been incredible at planting seeds of ruin and destruction wherever we'd go.

Thank God that's changing.

We are ascending, we are.

Like it or not, we are stepping into the 5th Dimension as One.


Everybody into me — blood relative or the society in Bucharest, one way or the other, have been jealous of Istanbul. I asked myself: why?

The answer came from the universe…

I was walking to Piata Unirii, for a short and necessary shopping spree.

On my way, my attention got caught by a Turkish street shawarma seller.

I have become a Lacto-vegetarian.

So it wasn’t food that caught my attention.

But the room perfumes exhibited in the street window shop.

This is it! This is my moment. I’d better give it a shot.

I went towards the dürümcü Gentleman and asked:

“Abi / Elder brother, do you have Turkish cologne?”

What do you think the dürümcü Gentleman did?

Give it a guess, will you?

He opened the fridge and served me Turkish cologne. Waited for me to open my palms and receive the kolonya. “Because it's summer and it’s very hot.”

You see… my dearest, the dürümcü Gentleman didn’t ask me whether I was buying anything, wasn’t interrogating me: does your father sit on a petroleum tank? how much did you pay for your website? how much… do you anything? What's my R.O.M. - Return On this Moment with you and from you?
He opened his heart and gave away the Turkish cologne.
The Gentleman gave away to and for me, unconditionally.

How did I react?

I went numb.

With this pandemic, I haven’t been travelling to Istanbul for my dose of warmth, humane Orientalism, or friendship and cologne. As a Damascene European hybrid, I have always lived in-between worlds. There was no other way!

Stuttering, both nervous and happy, I replied:

“Abi, I’d like to buy one.”

Finally, I'd found Turkish cologne in Bucharest.

With the state of emergency, all the COVID-19 pandemic related restrictions, I couldn't find one.

The dürümcü Gentleman fetched it out from somewhere in the back, a classic of lemon fragrance.

The best fragrance of the summer: cologne d'amitié.

And I felt warmth. Right over here.

I felt Home.



Life delivers to us who we need, when we need it, in the very place suitable for us.

At lucky times, we are deployed into the very loving hearts of people who are not our blood relatives.

Much more, they are our Soul Family.

Pip had his benefactor, Cosette had her Monsieur Madeleine, Gibran Khalil Gibran had Lady Benefactress Mary Haskell. And I had stumbled into the humane heart and genius of the Cool Gentleman by the Bosphorus Strait.

Ma Turkish Brothers ...
Photos @Pinterest: Exquisite Alaçatı, Türkiye. One of the most beautiful places I have been to, both worldwide and in Turkey. 

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