The Time Regulation Institute Read Online Free PDF Page A

liquidation. If I have received any praise for this book illuminating the life and work of Sheikh Zamanı, the patron saint of clock makers, all credit must go to the founder of our institute, Halit Ayarcı, the dear benefactor and beloved friend who plucked me from poverty and despair and made me the person I am today, for indeed his excellence knows no bounds. Everything in my life that is good, beautiful, and precious belongs to this great man who was taken from us three weeks ago in a car accident. I need only recall the moment when, having invited me to tell him everything I had learned about clock making while working alongside the
muvakkit
Nuri Efendi, he had a flash of inspiration as profound, perhaps, as that which led to the creation of the institute itself: for not only did Halit Ayarcı discover Sheikh Ahmet Zamanı Efendi at that precise moment; he also knew at once that this man belonged to the reign ofMehmed IV.
    These were the two discoveries that allowed for our swift transfer to the headquarters where, in happier days, we were able to celebrate our “time” holidays with such success. My book was translated into several languages, and its critical reception abroad was as solemn and profound as it had been at home: this alone should prove that our dear friend Halit Ayarcı—may he rest in peace—was not at all mistaken when he divined our need for the illustrious Ahmet Zamanı to have existed, nor was he wrong when he assigned him to the centuryin question. The original idea was not my own, but when I think back on this book that bears my name, when I recall its translation into eighteen languages, and the reviews it received in foreign newspapers, and the great scholar Van Humbert, who traveled all the way from Holland to meet with me and visit the tomb of Ahmet Zamanı, I know I am remembering the most important events of my life.
    This scholar, though, turned out to be rather irksome. Finding the tomb of a man who never existed in mortal form is more difficult than you might imagine, as is surviving vigorous debate with a foreign scholar, even with the aid of an interpreter. We were saved first by what the foreign papers called our “Sufi-like attitudes and detached—or, rather, indulgent—personalities,” and second by the fact that our forefathers had availed themselves of pseudonyms.
    After wandering the graveyards of Edirnekapı and Eyüp for several days, and visiting the Karacaahmet Cemetery, we were bound to find an Ahmet Zamanı Efendi. And so we did. I am not unduly troubled by the minor alterations I made to the identity of the actual deceased. If nothing else, the poor man had his tomb repaired and his name made known: glory and calamity are both at God’s mercy. Photographs of the tomb were printed in the press, first in Holland and then in other countries around the world, but always on the condition that I would be there with one hand resting on the tombstone and the other holding my raincoat, my hat, or perhaps a newspaper.
    There is only one thing that saddens me when I remember this man who wrote such lovely things about my book, who introduced me to the world and spent so many days with me searching for the tomb: never once did I allow him to pose for a photograph leaning against Zamanı’s resting place. No sooner did Van Humbert ask the question than I turned him down, saying, “But you
are
a Christian—it would be a torment for Zamanı’s soul!” and insisting that he stand off to my right. Thinking about it now, I can allow myself to imagine he forgave me. And considering the months of trouble the lout brought upon me, it serves him right! What business did he have swooping in like that and causing such aggravation? We are people who live in a world of our ownmaking! Everything is just as we like it. But as you will see in due course, Van Humbert had his revenge.
    So I never was one for reading or writing.