Bliss: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

Russian author Dostoevsky described his return to Russia from Europe by saying, “It’s just like putting on your old pantofles. ” Sliding your feet into your old bedroom slippers—that was a good definition. That was the way people lived their lives. If they were not safe within their own familiar world, they would probably feel like a boy who was raised in a cellar, then cast out into the public square. But İrfan yearned to surmount the restrictive, tiresome security of his life, which, disguised as happiness, threatened to overwhelm him. To do this he needed to change. A personal metanoia should be experienced at least once in a lifetime.
    The Stilnox had started to take effect. İrfan’s eyelids had begun to droop, and his mind was becoming cloudy. In the dimly lit bedroom, Aysel slept silently as usual, like a corpse, one leg released from its coverings.
    The professor returned quietly to bed and laid his head to rest on the pillow. His last vision before falling asleep was of two young men and a boundless expanse of ocean. While he stood there on the shore, on the horizon was the slowly fading silhouette of the boat carrying his friend Hidayet to Alexandria to explore the poet Cavafy’s city.
    “Had Hidayet reached his goal?” he wondered. Maybe he had stopped off somewhere along the way and settled down to a different way of life. Or perhaps the waves whipped up by the adverse winds of Zeus had engulfed his tiny boat.
    “Good-bye, Hidayet,” İrfan murmured. And he dozed off into a troubled sleep, still unable to escape the fear of advancing toward death, of being aware of his destiny.

INNOCENT BRIDE, BEAUTIFUL BRIDE
    Nine hundred miles east of Istanbul, and seventy miles beyond Meryem’s village, Cemal woke up trembling with excitement in his bunk at the outpost on the snow-covered slopes of the Gabar Mountains.
    He had been dreaming again of the innocent bride, whose legend had been passed down in his village for generations. In his dream, the pure young woman had glanced at the forbidden part of his body. Then Cemal exposed his private parts to her, opening his body to the delicate touch of her hands as her eyes grew wide in wonder.
    Although the identity of the innocent bride was unknown, the young men of the village never ceased to talk about her—endlessly repeating to each other the same titillating story.
    Once, long ago, a young girl had grown up to the age of fifteen sheltered from all evil and raised like a precious flower in the seclusion of her home, ignorant of the world outside. Her parents did not let her play with other children, shielding her from knowledge of the shameful things that could happen between girls and boys.
    The year she turned fifteen, the girl was married off to Hasan the shepherd, who prized his bride’s naïve innocence and was determined to preserve it. On their wedding night, he said, “I’m going to tell you a secret, my virtuous bride. I’m different from other men.”
    The innocent girl looked expectantly at her husband.
    “I have something they don’t have,” he said as he revealed himself to her.
    “Oh my goodness,” she gasped. “Whatever is that?”
    “I’ll show you what it’s good for,” Hasan said and proceeded to demonstrate all the skills of his secret until dawn and prove to his wife that he was indeed different from any other man in the world. From that day on his wife wore an enigmatic smile. She did not share her man’s secret with anyone, but, in front of others, only lowered her gaze in a knowing, half-mocking way.
    Several years later, Hasan had to report for his military service. Before leaving home for this two-year separation, he hugged his wife and told her they would carry on from where they had left off when he returned. “Just wait patiently for that time to come,” he said. After he was gone, the young woman’s face lost its smile and her eyes were full of yearning. “What’s the matter?” people would ask.