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Did these people not understand that she did not want to reach a decision about their code of belief? All she wanted was to be on the move. If she came down on one side or the other, she feared she would turn into someone else and it would be the end of her.
‘Baba, doesn’t religion give you a sense of security – like a protective glove?’ ‘Maybe, but I don’t want an extra skin. I touch the flame, I burn; I hold ice, I’m cold. The world is what it is. We’ll all die. What’s the point of safety in crowds? We are born alone, we die alone.’
Peri’s mind raced as she attempted to deconstruct the intonation of this apparently simple remark. She had come to learn that the English had an indirect way of expressing their opinions. Unlike the Turks, they did not communicate resentment through resentment or anger through double anger. No, there were layers to their conversation; the deepest discomfort could be conveyed with a reticent smile. They complimented when, in truth, they wished to denounce; they clothed their criticisms in cryptic praise. If I gave a bad performance on stage, Peri thought to herself, in Turkey, they’d pelt me
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debate. When you feel offended, which is human, remember the counsel of a wise man: ‘If you are irritated by every rub, how will your mirror be polished?’
The problem today is that the world values answers over questions. But questions should matter so much more! I guess I want to bring the devil into God and God into the devil.’
She wanted to explain that those who stayed behind, despite the hardships, enjoyed lasting friendships and wider social networks, while the ones who migrated for good remained incomplete, jigsaw puzzles missing a critical piece.
head. ‘I admired you too much. Now I can see it clearly. When we fall in love we turn the other person into our god – how dangerous is that? And when he doesn’t love us back, we respond with anger, resentment, hatred …’ She said, ‘There’s something about love that resembles faith. It’s a kind of blind trust, isn’t it? The sweetest euphoria. The magic of connecting with a being beyond our limited, familiar selves. But if we get carried away by love – or by faith – it turns into a dogma, a fixation. The sweetness becomes sour. We suffer in the hands of the gods that we ourselves created.’
