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dieonerememerberbook · 3 years ago

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EPISODE 1-

-DEATH-

Since when was my life in turmoil? I was living vaguely behind a veil of smoke. I was in the tender arms of my warm bed and my friends. My sons, my friends were around me; they didn't leave me alone, they tried to cure my problem, but I was still not comfortable. They were next to me, but I could only vaguely notice that I was slowly and slowly being involuntarily removed from them, pushed towards solitude.

For a long time, a severe weakness resembling numbness had come and gripped my body. My springs of life were slowly drying up, my strength was waning. It was as if there was a heavy burden on my back that crushed me and made me feel bored with its presence. The weight of my body was crushing my soul, making me tired. I was always out of breath as if I had run a long marathon.

My ties to life were slowly weakening, and death was approaching step by step. And I was aware of that. This; It was a fact that could not be escaped, that had to be accepted willingly or unwillingly, a way to go, a necessary direction.

I resigned to my fate in silence. I was trying to prepare as much as a person can be prepared for the coming of the destined, the inescapable.

But the first blow came suddenly and unexpectedly, when I felt a little better, and I thought my ties to life had strengthened a little.

A knife was stuck in my left side. The lightning bolts of a sharp pain fell on my horizons. A silver spear pierced my eyes, dazzled and blinded, numbing first my brain, then my body. I fell to the ground in an instant. I've been held captive by a ball of hard, painful, nauseating emotions. I tried to escape but failed. There was a foul odor in my nostrils, as if I had swallowed that blood when my nose bled.

These piles of emotions that pierced through my body were very heavy, painful and sharp. They were stretching and forcing the thick ropes called soul that hold and bind me.

Finally, sharp blows cut these ties; My efforts to hold on were in vain. I fell into a deep purple-rimmed well, into a nauseous darkness.

This fall was spinning like a somersault. It left a nauseous, disgusting taste in my mouth that looked like stale blood. The rumbles coming from the depths of my being are making me dizzy; it was pulling me out.

I thought I was going to crash into a hard floor and fall apart. But my fall was not drastic. It ended in slower and slower oscillations, as if I was caught in a springy mattress or net.

It was dark, wet, and cold where I came from, but I still felt a bit of peace. But my fall into the unknown was not over. It continued, albeit slowly, like a dry leaf swaying in a gentle breeze.

In the endless darkness that was imprisoned in my being, I was slowly rolling towards somewhere, whirling around. Something I didn't know was pulling me inside myself.

Great, cold and black mountains, vast holes opened into infinity, deep chasms had formed inside me. I was falling into myself, falling.

But that didn't last long either; it ended in the thick, cold, deep shadows of a mysterious, echoing darkness.

First, a cold, wet, black calm surrounded me. I was chained by bewilderment and imprisoned in obscurity. Something was squeezing me, crushing me, trapping me inside myself. My prison was my body. Then the walls of this dungeon collapsed. One of the doors opened. I found myself in a vast space.

I could barely discern the presence of tiny, colorful flashes of light flashing in the infinities of my horizons. Maybe the blinks are behind my eyelids that open and close like tiny wings; The lifeless sparks of a tiny flame that was about to die out and stuck to my eyeballs were the last struggles of the substance called soul trying to survive.

It was as if I had suddenly teleported and landed softly into an alien and mysterious world, where tiny clumps of light twinkling like stars through the fog, flashing and fading.

It was as if I had passed into another world, but there was still an unbroken thin bond between us and the place beyond. The painful black sword that had pierced through my very being had dried up inside me, turning into a group of thorny bushes. A thousand and one-tongued black dragon was tearing me apart, splitting, burning and catching cold. Something in me is contracting, expanding; An unstoppable force was pulling and pushing me. It was like inflating like a balloon while being crushed under a press. It was as if my self was splitting, disintegrating, numbing, raking, falling apart.

I felt the gilded blow of a crash into a hard ground as I faltered in amazement at what I saw and felt. My brain went numb, my horizon lit up for a moment, then plunged into darkness again. In the end I exploded like a bomb, shattered into granules. My horizons brightened and darkened for a moment, then I was enveloped in a black veil called obscurity.

Everything and everywhere was covered with a velvety soft darkness. I was somewhere in that fluffy velvet wrap. That wrap was both inside and outside of me. Spiritually and materially, it was divided into two, and a part of me was lost in the darkness. But these darknesses; It was an echoing, round, warm, full sound, and it was soft. A sluggish, swaying, round ball of emotion fills one of my heavy, heavy parts, seeks me out like a steep mountain vanishing behind mists or veils, driving me away from me; but it wasn't painful or painful.

I was slowly losing myself, even though I was torn in two, as if by mists, with a bundle of drowsy feelings like a heavy sleep. But that thin bond between my two parts was not broken yet.

Suddenly something roared deep inside me, something inside me shook. A timeless volcano erupted in my depths, and a relentless earthquake shook everything and shook it. Maybe I was thrown into infinity, then fell somewhere, hit something.

In an instant, the whole place was ablaze with a painful red. My throat was filled with a blood-like scent once again. A black cloud, driven by a strong wind, turning everything upside down, spewing white and sharp flames loaded with flashes, and an ominous whirlwind perched in these clouds blew from all around me, their hums echoing all around me.

A sharp, heavy, flaming pain swept through my veins like a net; burned, destroyed, destroyed.

My self first bent, twisted, stretched to the point of breaking. In an instant, I turned into the simplicity of aches and pains, I identified with them.

This pain was a bare sword. With vertical blows from my middle, he was dividing, slicing, dividing me into tiny granules, tearing me into pieces. But that didn't last long either. With a loss, a loss of myself in the darkness, it also ended and disappeared. Later….

I lost myself in the dark and found myself in the dark again. It was like I was in two pieces. The thin bond between them was broken. Each piece was separate from each other but still side by side. My integrity was intact.

I was two pieces side by side, but I knew I was myself. It was like waking up from a deep but dreamless sleep.

I was dazed and alone, tucked into the bottomless depths of a soft, still, but black sea that surrounded me. There was no one else there but myself.

my consciousness; It was trying to shine, to live indistinctly, like the sun behind a thick black cloud, or a tiny ember under gray ash. Later…

My unstoppable fall, which looked like a nauseous sway, started again. Involuntarily, I surrendered myself to these falls in desperation. After a while, this alternating fall slowly came to an end. Suddenly, something black, a darkness fell over me.

Once I heard the thumping sound of a soft object crashing against a hard ground, and I was once again dispersed, heavy and heavy like a dense smoke.

But it wasn't just a feeling, it was mixed with some feeling. As if it was about my stance. It seemed to come from below, from the depths, but it was clearer than before, harder but strangely light.

A little lethargic with loss of self; His pains were mixed with the flame of the pain he felt. It was as if it were the reflection of the rolling, rumbling, flame-colored sound of a lightning exploding within me, echoing in my depths.

This rattling, humming, round and colorful sound was soft and light, but it filled my whole being, and I was turned towards it, I was just transformed into it.

I felt some hustle and bustle around me, but I couldn't understand or hear anything. My consciousness, veiled and numbed by a smog, was not enough to reach them.

It was as if my scientist was imprisoned in a narrow steel cage and could not get out.

Somewhere, something like a pot lid was rattling, jingling. Something must have fallen. But I didn't know yet if it was me who fell.

Suddenly my horizons brightened and darkened, the darkness grew and surrounded me. The iron cage in which my consciousness was imprisoned got smaller and smaller; disappeared with its contents. My fragmented self, which I sought and found, was once again split, slowly removed from myself. As I was walking away, I lost my other part again in the mist like a slow fading image.

Again, I fell into the hope of darkness, which was thickened and enlarged by the unconsciousness that surrounded me. But still, inside me, an unquenched ember is alive like a pulse; There was a tiny, slow, slowly rolling white marble. My heavy, slowly melting self clung to it with all its might, clung to it. This; the darkness was like a tiny drop in my hope, a swaying white boat.

I sometimes saw flashes like tiny sparks on my horizons, which were fading into darkness, but they were far away from me. They were like tiny, colorful sparks trying to burn. They were painting my dark horizons a purple color.

But the radiant pulsations of these tiny sparks were short-lived, the bruises darkening, turning into sheer blackness once more. These blacks materialized, became heavier and thicker.

It was as if I was inside a giant purple-colored funnel that was getting narrower and deeper. An unstoppable force was pushing me to the bottom, crushing my particles, suffocating me.

Everywhere seemed to be in deep darkness, but still, that darkness was not absence. I can see and feel it as if it were a substance; I could take handfuls, handfuls, drink, smell. Maybe it was something else. Maybe it was the illusory darkness of my eyes dazzled by the light for that thing.

Then… My oscillating fall stopped once again; I reached a stillness like a calm and wide sea.

There was a smell coming from somewhere. This; It was fresh and appealing, like the smell of freshly baked bread. It was beautiful, it was bright, it was warm; It fed my soul, cooled me down, warmed me, caressed me, fueled my longing, as if I had sipped a sherbet with honey. But I didn't know where it came from.

Then… That smell stopped.

All of a sudden, the tide turned, everything turned upside down once again. Then a curtain, a door opened. I was brought to a bright place. It was as if I had passed into another world, I was a stranger here, I did not know. This recognition was tantamount to mere surprise.

Confusion breeds loneliness. Loneliness is fear...

Solitude was a steep slope. Fear was the snowballs rolling down this hillside. They grew, they grew, they grew. They rolled over and took me in and circled me on all sides.

Fear and loneliness were high mountains and they were very high. Their dark, heavy, cold shadows fell on me, crushing my being.

Darkness was the thick walls that surrounded my horizons. I was enveloped in a blanket of thick, black, heavy shadow. The silence was harsh and sharp. And I was alone in this steel silence.

I tried to hear the click and footsteps of that single thing, that piece of light, that I thought was coming with me. But he, too, had melted into this silence and left without saying goodbye.

From deep and far, echoing, rolling, sharp screams, shrieks, cries, like bare swords, some as straight and sharp as a spear, some sharpened by pain, break the silence; it was crushing, hitting, piercing and bleeding.

Someone must have been beating and crying. your laments; I was surrounded by the purple-colored trembling smell, which was haunted by the voices and gave the feeling of sadness and crying to the hearts. I felt this sadness with all its might, my lips were trembling, but I could not see those who were lamenting.

My loneliness fueled my fear, and fear fueled my loneliness.

They were both on the back of a strong bewilderment. My solitude was like raging storms coming back and forth from the peaks of the steep slopes. They had relentlessly bombarded me with tiny cannonballs and surrounded me from all sides. Black curtains hung all around me, all around me, and they were wrapped around my neck like nooses, suffocating me.

Then I was caught in a black snowfall. Then this precipitation turned into a relentless blizzard.

Whatever rained down on me was black and cold. My gaze did not pierce his intensity. My consciousness was captive to them. All three of them were hiding what lay before me, punching and curtaining my eyes, preventing me from seeing. These fist blows thrust me into vast seas of fearful amazement. Later…

Time swept over me like a slowly spinning cylinder. Later…

My fearful astonishment deflated slowly, like a balloon; My numb consciousness slowly awoke, lifting its head like a springtime seed from under its thick cover.

Something warm, a fresh, unseen spring sun surrounded me, awakening and invigorating me. I couldn't see it, but I could feel it. This was a big change. I was like a butterfly in the dark trying to come out of its cocoon.

It was an awakening, a resurrection, but my wandering fixed eyes found solitude, solitude and fear. Hope was a warm sun rising after my mountains of fear. But it was not enough to melt my fears. I was left alone with my fears, loneliness and hope. Fear and loneliness killed my hope. They both came together and swooped on me.

Fear and loneliness grew heavy, materialized and solidified. I felt their weight on my back, their icy shadows fell on me, I was shaken by tiny earthquakes.

Then… The thin thread holding my selves stretched once more and broke once again. I came out of my cocoon and abstracted from matter. I just became feelings and sensations. They were extremely sharp and lean in these.

Like a novice butterfly that has just emerged from its cocoon, it has become numb and hardened; While I was floundering in bewilderment, fear and loneliness, suddenly a white dot, a tiny cloud approaching, tearing the darkness of my horizons, appeared and grew as it got closer.

As if he; It was a huge star, growing as we got closer, twinkling in a pitch-black night. The closer he got, the closer he got. He melted the ice of my darkness with his light. A luminous human silhouette appeared from within. She came with him in a very light breeze, peaceful, cool, fragrant, ruffling her long, white hair that fell over her shoulders.

She was dressed in a white dress and was tall. She had a face that was dazzlingly beautiful and as bright as the sun. Their eyes were black as coal, lively-eyed, and large. His body was straight and imposing as a harpoon. Every part of them was in harmony with each other and they were very beautiful.

In his left hand he held a cane-like silver wand with a curved end. White, long, graceful fingers gripped the knob of the staff. He had a ring on his middle finger. In this ring, a large green stone was shining brightly even in the white of the environment.

It looked like it had come from far away, but there was no trace of the tiredness of his journey or anything like that. He was fresh, alive and vigorous, like a healthy child who had just woken up. And he was smiling at me in a friendly way.

This smiling face caused my sun of hope behind the steep mountains to rise once again. My eyes were dazzled. At last I dared to look into his face.

His face was pink mixed with white, and it was bright, bright with a smile. Her one-piece dress, white as snow, like silk, was touching the ground and covering her feet. His clothing was so light that it was as if he was dressed in a white cloud.

Her broad locks of hair were parted and left in the middle of her shapely head and were long enough to touch her shoulders.

His mustache was clipped short. His beard, the color of his hair that framed his smooth cheeks, was also a little longer.

He was very old, but not old.

His large, dark eyes covered most of his face. The black of his eyes was very black, and the white was very white. His eyes were fresh, lively and luminous, like the eyes of a mischievous child. A benevolent radiance warmly enveloped these damp worlds.

He was as majestic in appearance as the steep-sided mountains. But his majesty was full of abundance and humility, like lush forests. It was warm and soft, exuding a dignity filled with confidence rather than fear.

When I saw him, my loneliness softened and melted. Fear, on the other hand, was still a mountain of ice on my back, but the warm and reassuring look of the guest was melting this heavy load, making it a little smaller and lighter.

He is for me at that moment; with warmth and softness clearly felt in his apparent personality; it was the shadowy hope of a warm friendship and friendship sun that would warm and cool my heart, which was freezing, burning and suffocating in the sullen hell of loneliness.

That musk smell from somewhere still persisted and was all over the place. I thought it must have come from him.

When I suddenly saw it in front of me, I was first scared, then glad. His presence made me forget everything. I thought he was one of my friends who came to visit him.

It was normal for me to expect and expect him as a friend, a friend.

For a long time, illness was a burden on my back and chains on my feet. In my bed where I was a prisoner, I longed for the smiling face of a friend, the warmth of compassionate hands, I was hungry and thirsty for these. My children swirling around me could not satisfy my hunger or quench my thirst. Bedridden and sick people like me are always hungry and thirsty for friendship and love.

He came right in front of me and greeted me. I received your greeting and commanded.

-I said welcome. I'm sorry I couldn't greet you standing up. The debility brought about by my illness prevents me from showing this respect. My place is very narrow, but still, welcome to the best and most spacious place. All I can offer you for now is heartfelt love and respect.

This bright-faced man came to my place and sat comfortably. It was like he was used to coming and going to places like this.

Looking at his face one more time with joy:

"You don't know how happy I am to see you," I said. Perhaps the hope of this big problem called loneliness, you will be the warmer and the contender of this cold load on my back. You see that I am cold with loneliness and trembling with fear with the insecurity it brings.

He looked at me and smiled. But this; it was not a bright smile like a joy, but a smile that was darkened with a slight sadness, a little sad and sad.

It was as if I was an old friend who had come from far away and brought me bad news.

After her beautiful and bright eyes wandered over my face for a moment:

"We found it nice, but people don't usually feel happy when they see me," he said.

Looking at his face curiously:

-Sorry. I said I didn't know you. It's like I've never seen it before. Or have we met before?

Shaking his head in the negative:

-He said no. With me, people only meet once in their lives, they meet once. I only come to them once.

I was going to ask why he had come here, when he immediately understood my intention.

Looking at my face

“I came here for you,” he said. I'll take the shackles off your neck and open the cell door. You were a drop of water in an old whip for a long time. I'm going to pull you out of this prison you've been in for so long, this old and torn cocoon.

His words intrigued me, but also shocked me.

-Shackles? Is it a cell? I asked. Or was I a prisoner here?

- He said yes. How long have you been in this seedy cell with shackles around your neck and chains on your feet, but now it's time to get out. Your chains and shackles are now well rusted and worn out.

I couldn't understand your words. I thought I could grasp everything, know everything with my mind. I had not yet learned that a limit of reason, sometimes of seeming freedom, can be captivity. So I immediately objected.

"But I'm not a prisoner," I said. Contrary to what you said; I don't have shackles on my neck, shackles on my feet, or handcuffs on my hands. As you can see, I have neither eaters nor guards.

Until yesterday, I could go anywhere I wanted, do whatever I wanted. What connects me here; it is nothing but old age and the disease that comes with it, which takes away my strength and power.

Old age became identified with me, it settled in me inextricably, it became a part of me, but I think my illness is temporary. Aren't you wrong about that?

Shaking his head in the negative direction again:

He said, "People generally cannot see the shackles around their necks, the papier-mâché on their feet, the handcuffs on their hands, the guard on their heads, and they cannot notice the cell in which they are staying. It's like the inability to see a caterpillar's cocoon or a human being himself. This is a human disease. People are in the prison of their selves, and they are often not even aware of it.

You are also suffering from the same problem. You still do not realize that what you describe as old age is a part of what you cannot see.

His words were perfectly reasonable. I was old, wise, and experienced enough to notice the fine line between straight and curve, to know that sometimes the truth can go the other way, and that the short, cross-eyed mind is not always a good guide.

What was in front of me must have been my destiny, which I could not change. So I bend my neck:

-Alright! Since you will set me free. So I said do what you want.

Looking at me with interest:

-Freedom? "Like everything else, this is up to you," he said. This right of choice is exclusive to you only. This right has been given to you by living and using the virtues of your creation, but it is hidden within them. You have to seek and find.

Freedom is the air you can inhale. What's the value of the atmosphere you're swimming in if you can't bear it?

People are generally heedless. They cannot see, understand or know the virtues given to them that make them real people. That's why, thinking they will be free, they leave one cell and enter another. Unfortunately, the second cell is narrower, darker, and its shackles are thicker.

His words were strange to me.

-Since I leave one cell, I will enter another, narrower and darker cell. So there's not much difference between staying here and leaving.

At least I'm happy here, with my loved ones. Why did you come here? I said let me stay here.

Shaking his head in the negative direction:

-He said no. There is actually a lot of difference. I told you, this choice is up to you. Every event has a consequence. You will reap what you sow. Also this; unchanging appreciation is mercy towards you.

Bowing down:

-I said okay. I submit to this unchangeable fate and discretion. As far as I understand, you are the only authorized and responsible person in this business.

I know that hilm is one of the greatest virtues. You will not find me rebellious and rebellious. For mercy, I think I have no choice but to hope.

My guest nods negatively:

-No! Said. As with everything, this is your will; The sweat you shed is the product of the seed you sow in your field. Do not be astonished by those who go from planting to harvesting.

-I said okay. I silently submit to my divine providence and destiny.

He smiled at me and said:

-Submission; He said, "It is a result that you inevitably follow, like your will, like destiny. In the end, everything comes to Him, what He says happens. Divine judgment is not delayed, it is not delayed. Come on, give me your hand.

I extended my hand. He grabbed me and lifted me up. His hand; she was cool like mercy, warm like a mother's skin, full of love and soft. That musk scent I heard became stronger, fresher and more beautiful.

The thick black walls that surrounded my horizons, that surrounded me, collapsed. I found myself in a luminous light.

We were somewhere a little higher. I could see everything clearly and distinctly, as if from a bird's-eye view from the top of a mighty mountain, but I was both too close and too far from them. This was going to me too.

Since when was my vision blurred? My hearing power and other senses were weakened, my lifelines and bones were thinned, and that driving force called soul was replaced by a weakness and lethargy. I was also afflicted with that inevitable disease called old age, which takes power and strength from the hands of people.

From the moment my old friend took my hands, something warm passed from him to me, and the heavy weight that I had been crushing for so long was lifted from my back. Like pressurized steam coming out of a tiny hole, I suddenly found myself in a peaceful void. That infallible pressure on me was lifted. The sharp sword that sliced through my self was broken. My oppressive pains and pains that I felt with all their might suddenly came to an end. And I found a deep peace.

I felt light as nothing. It was as if I had gone to another world or been reborn. This; It must have been like the sheer amazement and amazement of a baby who came out of the womb and saw and felt the world for the first time.

The veils in front of my senses were lifted, the barriers collapsed, they became their mere essence. They were incredibly sharp and powerful. I could hear the tiniest click and see the furthest things.

I could easily see and hear the people around me, but they could not see or hear me. between us; there seemed to be a very thin curtain, transparent, strange, like a one-way mirror.

The sudden awakening and sharpening of my senses; It made me happy as much as it surprised me and left me in awe.

-Ahhh! How beautiful I cried. My senses were awakened and sharpened. It's like I was reborn. I can see and feel everything easily.

My friend looked at me at my words and smiled. His smile this time was warm and bright.

-Yup! Said. You really were just born. Your existence up until now has been incomplete and flawed in some ways. You will see and realize that you have other senses, feelings and faculties besides the ones you know. They are the means of manifestation of divine providence.

We were looking down on a room. In the middle of the room was a bed, with an old man lying on the bed. It was yellow as wax; His long, white beard came to his chest. His eyes were closed, his mouth ajar. His hair was messy, gray and white on the ground, his long hair protruding from the pillow where his head was buried, and some people surrounded him. I couldn't see their faces. They must have been crying. I recognized the old man immediately.

With amazement:

-Aaaah! What is this? I shouted. I'm the one lying there in the bed, but here I am. How can this be?

My friend once again shook his head negatively:

-He said no. There are unbreakable bonds between you, but the you there is no longer you. He's now nothing but a drained, useless old whip inside him.

I looked at my friend's face in amazement. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

-So… So I'm dead now? I asked. But how? Isn't death a transition from the world of existence to the world of non-existence? But I see that the opposite is true. It is as if I have passed from the world of non-existence to the world of existence and awakened from a deep sleep. I also felt neither the pain nor the pangs of death. What I heard was a part of myself as if in a dream, and they passed away like a wind.

Mate:

-Yup! He said you are right. What you describe as death is actually an awakening from a dream world, or from a sleep with long or short dreams, opening your eyes to reality. It is the transition from the world of nothingness and imagination to the world of existence. As for the pain and suffering of death; they were really the pains and pains of life, not death, and they were too light for you. There is no doubt that this is the mercy of our Lord towards you.

I looked at me, who was no longer me. Everything was a little strange. I found this strange, and I was astonished, but its strangeness was not because of its strangeness, but because of my opinion.

The place was full of people, but there was no one but the two of us. We were alone in this crowd. Loneliness and silence pervaded everything like an invisible mist.

This is how I polled myself. I was becoming more and more aware of the changes taking place on me. I realized once again that the pains and pains that had been going on for a long time, that had ravaged my very being, ceased and disappeared. It was as if they were trapped down there in me, which was no longer me. Those thick ropes were broken, the shackles on my neck and the knuckles on my feet were loosened, and I came out of my cell. I was free now.

In a way, I was happy with these, but my second wife, children and other loved ones who had been circling around for a long time were on the other side. There was a thin line between us, but I could not cross this line and reach them. It was as if they were not yet aware that I had crossed over to this side. They still thought that I was me, who was not me, they were praising that old whip with a hole in the bottom, they were hugging themselves and crying. In the meantime, I was just noticing that big change in me.

They weren't the only ones on the other side. It was my self in matter that stayed with them. I had lost my self that I thought was me, and found my true identity. But at first it was just a feeling.

A heavy load that I have been trying to carry for a long time has been taken off my back; I was relieved and relieved. I was abstracted from matter, as light as absence, but I was not absence. I knew that for sure.

And that greatest truth, more real than truth, appeared before my eyes once again.

The shackles on my neck and the knuckles on my feet were removed, my cell door was opened, and the thick ropes were cut off. I was free now. I was free, but in the bewilderment and ignorance of freedom, I was in a way a prisoner of freedom. I had not yet gotten rid of the influence and habits of that tiny cell I had lived in for years.

I seemed isolated from what lies below, but there were still some strange bonds between us that I couldn't break out of, that I couldn't describe. It was as if we were apart, but still together. This blinded my eyes and prevented me from seeing the truth.

The tiny oil lamp that had been burning inside me for a long time, longing for the footstools, had gone out. My visible being was numb and cold. The rustling light and heat from the flame of that tiny lamp had vanished.

My friend turns to me:

"Let's go now," he said. I said that divine judgment cannot be delayed or delayed.

I was with the one lying there. I was inside, but separate from him. She was under soft clothes and thick duvets, but I was naked.

That's when I realized that I was naked. I was also very cold. My friend seemed unaware of my situation. He was in a hurry to leave immediately.

I turned towards him. Tir, trembling:

-I said I'm so cold, I'm also naked. Let me get something on me from here.

My friend shook his head again in the negative:

-No! Said. With your own hands this is no longer possible. You are not in a position to do your own work, to help yourself.

Those on this side of the line reap only what they sow. This is not sowing, but harvesting. They must have told you all this. You should have been prepared. If you're not prepared, it's your fault. There is Right, there is no injustice. Good is rewarded and evil is punished and is not delayed. Everyone here is their own prosecutor, their own judge, their own executioner. Here, everyone judges himself and carries out his own execution.

Out of self-preservation instinct, I immediately objected. It was the irrational illusion of the soul restrained mind.

-No! I said that no one told me that he would come, that he would free me, that I would be left naked like this.

Looking at my face with amazement:

-Didn't they inform you? Are you saying I didn't know about this big expedition that you're going to leave sooner or later? Very interesting. In fact it; Your mother, father, spouse, friend, relative and other people have said and shown many times and continued.

Death is the greatest lesson, the greatest lesson for wise people. Death was enough as an advice for you.

Do not forget. Sometimes what you see is more eloquent, eloquent than words. If you still don't understand it's your fault, not theirs. You had to learn to hear with your eyes and see with your ears.

He was right. I had seen and stopped this great truth over and over again. But always in front of me stands a thick wall called nafs, an insurmountable obstacle; it was covering my eyes, covering and hiding the truth.

The mind was a light that illuminated the darkness of the lurking, but I couldn't use it enough either. The soul loved the world. When this love is illuminated and not guided by the light of the mind; it was turning into heedlessness, like a beautiful dream in a deep, dark, heavy sleep. I couldn't take enough lessons from that great lesson and I couldn't benefit from it enough because of my mind that was blinded, drugged and deceived and cast aside by the beautiful dream in that deep sleep of heedlessness.

How strange it was not to hear and not see the facts even though they were shouting and shouting before your eyes. Eyes that were thought to see sometimes did not see, and ears that were thought to hear sometimes did not.

What I actually saw were words that were more elusive than the words I heard with my ears. The truth was hidden by what we saw and heard, behind or under it. They whispered under their veils, reflected as though they were mirrored in a mirror, were visible, albeit vaguely. But I had not learned enough to see with my ears and hear with my eyes. This was a huge shortcoming for me. And now it's too late. It was certain that regrets from now on would be of no use. It's real right now; unsheathed, it lay on my neck, sharp, relentless like a bare sheathed sword.

The fear that I would tremble like this, that I would be naked was about to fill me, when a little boy appeared, whose origin I did not know. I knew him from somewhere, he didn't sound foreign at all, but at that moment I couldn't make out. She was wearing a beautiful dress and a sable fur coat. He looked at me and smiled, then said:

"Here, uncle, I brought these to you," he said.

I just bought it and got dressed. I was in such a hurry and rush that I did not think to ask where and how this little boy got these beautiful clothes and sable fur. Turning to the boy who was standing next to me and looking at me with his smiling eyes after I had dressed well and put on:

I said thank you, my child. But I couldn't recognize you. How did you know that I was so cold, that I needed a dress?

The child laughs:

"Of course you can't remember," he said. It's been a very long time. You must have forgotten, but I did not forget. Because good deeds, like bad ones, are not forgotten or lost. They are written in an indelible place.

I was an orphan boy in your neighborhood. It was years ago. You bought me a dress on a cold winter day and dressed it. This is the dress you bought me.

I immediately remembered the boy.

-Aaaah! Said. Now I remember. You are the orphan of our neighborhood, little Osman. Oh my God! Here I see what should not be seen and hear what should not be heard. Surely this is; It is an illusion of my senses and mind, which is open to mistakes and mistakes, which confuses and confuses me.

As I recall, you died as a little boy years ago. We also had your corpse removed. I was very upset that day. I still feel the pain of that day, and the tears flowing from my eyes wet my face. Now tell me. Answering my questions also quenches my thirst, which is called curiosity, even if it is a little bit.

How did you get here and what are you doing here?

The boy laughed again.

-Of course he said. I will answer your questions as I know them. But first let me state this. You're wrong when you say I died years ago. No, uncle. I didn't actually die years ago, I was born. I am here with my parents. Traveling and commenting as I want.

I was still in deep astonishment and astonishment. one in two; I was looking at a child, the fine clothes I was wearing and the sable fur on my back. My astonishment increased even more. Still, I couldn't help myself from asking.

But I said my child. What I got you was a used, shabby, worthless thing. If this dress and sable fur are the same clothes, they must be very valuable. Aren't you making a mistake?

The boy looked at me with a smile and said:

- No, uncle said. I'm not wrong. Those who are sent here multiply exponentially and return as they are valued. You actually bought that dress for yourself, not for me. I was also in custody. They are your own property. Goodbye, wear it.

The boy's words were extremely interesting. This triggered my curiosity, an old illness that I thought was good.

"Well, Osman?" I asked. Where are you staying here?

Osman:

-I told you, uncle said. I am here with my parents. I wander and dust as I want in heaven. All my requests are fulfilled immediately.

I knew his father from his health. He was a drinker, a gambler. He did not take care of his family and children. I had given many advices and help to bring him on the right path, but it was of little use. That's why the child's words caught my attention and increased my amazement. I couldn't help myself from asking.

"Okay, but my child," I said. As far as I know, your father was a naughty drinker. We tried very hard to put him on the right path, but it was not possible. Again He the Greatest knows, but I didn't think he was heavenly.

The boy's face and eyes suddenly became sad, as if he had recalled some bad, painful memory. Some of the stars of joy playing in his eyes faded. His eyes darkened the horizon with a sadness that he could not block, but accepted as a fate and quietly surrendered.

Causing a small child's distress was not something I could accept at the time. I felt sorry for myself when I realized that I had hurt him. I regretted like crazy when I asked such a question. I scolded myself.

The boy looked at me as if he understood my feelings. He must have seen and read my sadness and the regret it brought in my eyes. His eyes and then his face lit up with a sweet smile, as if he understood that the deeds were intentional, that I was only asking my questions for the sake of learning the truth, only for knowledge, and as if he wanted to console me. It was as if he was telling with this smile that sometimes one has to grieve or be sad in order to reach the truth.

The child taught me once again the most beautiful and the most valuable thing I have learned so far with what he said with great maturity. With your beautiful eyes fixed on my face:

-Yes, uncle said. As you said, my father was a mischievous person in his health. He would not look at us, sometimes he would beat us. But it was still my father. He put his trust in my death and took refuge in Allah (c.c.). I prayed for intercession for him. I cried and begged so much that He the Greatest, Most Merciful and Most Merciful accepted my prayer, my request for intercession. He forgave my sinful father to me.

You must have known. The prayers of mothers, fathers, those who pray at dawn, the innocent and the oppressed are not rejected.

What the boy said, the great knowledge and maturity in what he said, caught my attention and interest. I looked at him with envy and thought how ignorant I was. Surely this is; He was the manifestation of the Mercy of the Most High, the manifestation of the attributes of Rahman and Rahim.

I wanted to talk to him more. He seemed to have some of the remedies for my beautiful disease called curiosity, and I was dying for it, but my friend was getting impatient. So I had to cut it short.

- Okay, Osman, I said. I'm glad you're in heaven with your father and mother. Say hi to your dad for me. I don't know if we will meet again. Pray for me.

Child:

He said, "My prayers are for my parents first, and then for you who take care of me." I have never forgotten you and will never forget you. I hope we will meet again.

I kissed the boy's cheeks. It disappeared as suddenly as it came.

I went with my friend. It was very cold, but I was warm in my clothes and sable fur.

Weddings and joys were coming from one place, and crying and lamenting sounds were coming from another place, mixing with each other.

Turning to my friend:

I said what a strange world this world is. What we hear are from him and they are in complete contrast. While weddings are held and entertained in one place, they cry and lament in another place. Both get mixed up.

Friend:

- He said yes. For some, this day is the wedding day and the night is the night of vuslat, Seb-i Arus. They are very happy. For some, it's the opposite. That's why; Joy comes from one place, and lamentation from another. These are opposites that complete the life of the world. Happy is he who can read the book of the world correctly.

-Integration with opposites? But isn't that unfair? I asked.

My friend nodded again.

-He said no. Why is it unfair? Each person chooses his own path, draws it himself. Created equal on both sides, they are brothers and are at the same end of the line at the start of the race. The influx or land is of no importance. No one is favored. The difference is only in deeds.

All human beings are generally endowed with the same faculties. If the result; people's choosing and planting seeds of their own free will is the manifestation of divine justice that occurs after a good or bad harvest.

Divine manifestation is the result of the chosen one, the harvest of the sown. In a way, man will reap what he sows. Where there is right, there is no injustice or oppression.

I really liked these wise words of my friend. I admired him. He must have been a very knowledgeable, wise person. But I didn't know him well enough. I couldn't help asking the question that stuck in my brain for a long time.

Turning to my friend:

-I said I'm sorry. Maybe it's a little late. Surely you are a wise and good person. You showed me the way and direction. You have done favors. I owe you a debt of gratitude. I want to thank you if you donate your name.

My friend looks at me and says:

He said, "I am Azrael.

The response was utterly surprising and frightening. Looking at her face again in amazement:

-Is it Azrael? I shouted. But how? We Azrael; we know him as a tall, ugly skeleton man in a black suit, with a black hood, holding a huge scythe in his hand. That's how we learned about Azrael, that's how we thought, that's how we imagined it. On the other hand, you are a very beautiful, wise and good person. You don't fit this schedule at all. I think you are making jokes.

She smiled slightly, her beautiful face brightening a little more.

In a way, you might be right. He said, "I will come to people in any way they want." And this is the result of the manifestation of that divine justice. That is why I am formed in separate disguises. My development, behavior and disguise are entirely up to your people's wishes.

Some people accept their lives as a trust and surrender them willingly. Some people do not want to accept it. They immediately rise to rebellion. At that time, I will beat the souls of those people in their faces and backs.

There is nothing really bad or ugly in His creations. Goodness in evil and ugliness comes from people's souls like beauties. their souls; The highest of goodness and beauty is fermented with the ugliest of wickedness and vileness.

All other creatures cannot step outside the line from which they were created; they neither ascend nor descend, but human beings are beyond that. Reason is their guide, so the choice is theirs.

The soul accepts the guidance of the mind and rises if it follows it. This ascension can be up to the top of all creation.

If the mind follows the soul and accepts its guidance, it descends and falls to the lowest of the creatures. Well; This right of choice given to people can raise him to the highest and lower him to the lowest. That is why they are weighed on the delicate scales of divine justice. Man may be the most honorable of creations, but he can also be the most honorable of you.

I stared in amazement at my friend's face. His words were also extremely interesting, eloquent, beautiful. This beautiful-faced, wise and good-hearted person; Could it be the Azrael who took the lives of people and tortured them?

Myself:

-No no! I muttered. This good and beautiful person cannot be Azrael. This must be a joke or a joke of my friends towards me.

I remembered a joke made to a friend of mine years ago. Some mischievous friends went to a mosque saying that he died for our friend and had his sala read. That confused expression on the face of our friend, who heard his name after the Sala, became a joke that caused laughter for years, and it was talked about. Surely this was such a joke, it should have been a joke. I thought if this was a joke it should be read in salami now.

I had just gotten rid of these thoughts when the raft began to be given.

-Huh! "Okay okay" I mumbled. I wouldn't be surprised if it is read on my tag after Sala. This must be a joke my friends play on me. This good person is also a specialist physician they sent.

I kept giggling.

-Let me pretend to swallow this joke and take it to the end. Let's see what will happen?

Looking at my friend's face:

-I said it's being read. So who died?

Looking at my face meaningfully and meaningfully:

He said listen to the end of the hall. They will tell you the identity of the deceased. Then you learn.

As I guessed, my tag was read at the end of the session. Now I was sure that all this was a joke, a joke directed at me.

Shortly, laughingly:

-But this is mine, I said.

My friend didn't say anything. We came to the mosque together.

- I went to the fountain, saying that I should take an ablution, and my friend became an obstacle. Throwing a meaningful look at my face again:

- Didn't you have wudu? She asked

I choked myself. Somewhere deep within me, a tiny but bright light was burning. It was very, very small. Maybe it was a tiny speck, but this light illuminated me, washed me with cool water and refreshed me. This feeling is just like a person who likes to do good after doing good; It was like the joy and relief he felt in his conscience.

I remembered that I heard these cool and refreshing feelings a lot after I had ablution. This light that swallowed and washed me cleared my doubts. I had been lying on the sickbed for a long time, but strangely enough, I was still abducted. I knew that for sure. It must have come from the family.

Looking at my friend's face:

-I said yes. You're right, I have ablution. I know that for sure.

As I was passing by the fountain, I saw some darks crowding the faucets. Most of them were naked. Men and women were mixed, but the concept of men and women lost their reality, and they all assumed a single species identity. Their situation was extremely strange and unusual.

There were large boils on their faces full of surprise and fear, and there were pus-like foul-smelling discharges. They tried to open the taps to wash, but they could not succeed. From what they opened, a foul, heavy-smelling yellow water flowed out. Regardless of its foul smell, they were attacking here, crushing each other, trying to be cleaned with filth, to cover and remove the filth with filth. Some of them extended their heads to each other; they were trying to clean each other by licking the pus and dirt that was flowing from their faces. They must have had no other choice.

Seeing them like that filled my heart with compassion. Turning to my friend:

I said the taps must be stuck or broken. They often get stuck and break down anyway. If you let me, let me help these people so that they get rid of their dirt.

My friend holding my hand:

-No! Said. Neither they nor you can help each other anymore. They are those who do not have wudu before they die. That's why they try to clean up the mess with the mess. Here; It is the place where goodness, evil, beauty and ugliness cannot be hidden, where everyone carries their own burden and reaps what they sow. This is also a part of divine manifestation.

Leaving them to their fate, we proceeded towards the mosque.

As Gasil passed by the house, I saw some activity there, too. Some people were rushing in and out. Both of them were my sons. They were helping the housekeeper of Gasil. This was perfectly normal. All my life, I had tried to teach them about the virtue of dealing with funerals, hoping for the pleasure of Allah (c.c.). They must have been attending the funeral of an acquaintance or close friend.

We entered the mosque and sat in the front row. After the prayer is over, when it's time for the rosary, the muezzin brings istirca and says:

He said, "Inna lillah wa inna ilayhi raji'un = We are the servants of Allah and we will return to Allah." This meant that there was a funeral and the prayer would be performed.

Laughing for:

- Wow, meatballs, I thought. How well they arranged everything. So I came to this game of theirs. I'll take it to the end. It'll be really fun to see their faces when they realize I didn't swallow their jokes.

After the prayer, we were at the forefront of the funeral prayer. When the Imam raised his hand for takbir, he pushed me with a hand and led me to the side of the coffin. I had to stand there during the prayer. But I was determined to take this game to the end no matter what.

After the prayer, the coffin was loaded. There was me on the right front of the coffin, and my friend on the left front. A few people were also helping us. The rear end was loaded by my sons and relatives. The coffin was moved from hand to hand quickly and quickly. From hand to hand, we carried the coffin to the carriage at once, like a boat flowing down a river of outstretched arms and hands.

After the coffin was placed, when I saw my friend get into the car, I got in too. Just like when moving, I was on the right front and my friend was on the left front. My two sons were sitting at the back of the coffin. Their heads were down, their eyes were teary, and their noses were crimson-red. It was as if they had not seen me and my friend.

Shortly, laughingly:

I muttered, "Get out of you." You try to deceive me, to play games, huh… Look at them, how sincerely and beautifully they play their roles, as if they were real.

I chuckled, trying to imagine the look on their faces when they realized that I hadn't swallowed their game, that I knew everything from the start, but that I had tricked them. It gave me immense pleasure as it showed my vigilance and intelligence, and I was determined to make it through to the end.

It didn't take long for us to reach the cemetery. Together with two people, my friend and I carried the coffin in the front and brought it to the pit that was dug with the help of the other people.

My friend landed in the pit and signaled for me to get down. Two more people went down with us. The pit was narrow, but even though we were four people, we didn't bump into each other and didn't hinder the movements. It was as if the two of us weren't there.

The four of us held the body wrapped in a white cloth, lowered it into the grave and placed it. Two other people were placing the extended boards, while me and my friend were straightening them.

Everything was fine until the last piece of wood was inserted. When the last piece was put in, I found myself on the other side of the boards, next to the corpse. Did someone push me here? For a moment, I was stunned in this unexpected movement or situation. The rumbling and loud noises of the discarded lands on the boards would remove my surprise. Frightened, I tried to shout.

-EPISODE 1-