tells of life in Bekir Ağa during the holy month of Ramazan.
This was before his court martial, subsequent suicide
attempt and release.//
Life in the Dungeon During Ramazan
It had been four months since our arrest. The holy month of Ramazan
had arrived. We had still not been taken to court martial, which was
the thing we waited impatiently for because the result would either
mean release or continued incarceration. In any event, we wanted to
learn our fate one way or the other.
We understood that our court martial would be held during Ramazan
so we debated among ourselves how we should spend Ramazan - some
of us in favor of fasting and others saying that if we didn't fast our
keepers would use our 'blasphemy' as a pretext to beat us. In any case,
the fervently religious fellows prepared for Ramazan just as if they
were on the outside - they had their relatives bring jars of jelly, soup
and pots and pans to cook eggs in.
Since I was the youngest inmate, I helped my father-in-law manage the
coffee service in Bakkalkapı Prison (evidently another name for Bekir
Ağa Prison). On the first night of Ramazan, all of us, with two
exceptions, decided to fast. We didn't have a newspaper or a book, nor
anyone coming by to guide us so we walked back and forth through a
'pass' half an 'arşın' (about 35 centimeters) wide and two meters long we
made between two grass-filled mattresses. We had to continue walking
left and right so that our knees didn't get caught bumping into each
other.
In the evening, our coffee customers would come one by one to our
grill to cook either soup or eggs, in preparation for the sound of the
cannon, signaling the end of the fasting day. Additionally, many of
the fellows wanted coffee, either plain or with sugar, in tandem with
their fast-breaking meals. I had a lot of coffee orders to deal with so
I couldn't help but get mixed up. Most everyone, though, forgave me
for any errors I made with the orders. In any event, we made good
money.
The first evening prayer of Ramazan was said by the 'hatib' (preacher)
from Cerrahpaşa Hospital. We chatted after prayers and when 'yatsı'
prayer time arrived Hafız Kemal Efendi instructed everyone to wash up
again and we said both 'yatsı' and 'teravih' (evening prayer unique to
Ramazan). In conclusion, we rained down curses and epithets against
our tyrannical CUP keepers in unison, asking God to put them in jail
this Ramazan.
The tyrant Salim (prison warden) got drunk each evening of Ramazan
so spared us his verbal and genuine whippings by not coming by.
Customs official Nurullah Bey and Hafız Kemal Efendi, along with
some of the other fellows, sang songs and did some impersonations to
entertain us. Even the guards, who normally beat us, became our
friends during Ramazan.
In particular, the guards were very fond of my father-in-law's theatrical
efforts, having never seen such things in their lives. One of them said to
him "You are so very talented! We should call you 'Enver Paşa' instead
of 'Enver Bey' (a reference to CUP leader Enver Paşa)" Yes, during
his imprisonment in Beyazit (Bekir Ağa), my father-in-law was first
called 'Enver Ağa', then 'Enver Efendi' and 'Enver Bey', and later
'Enver Paşa'. My father-in-law tried his best to lighten the load for us
in Bekir Ağa with his funny stories and impersonations that made us
laugh. In any case, this is how we passed Ramazan until, as I have
already written above, our court martial began.
//END of PART XVI//
Hiç yorum yok:
Yorum Gönder