Sırrı begins to contemplate suicide. He refers to Bekir Ağa
prison as 'Bakkalkapı', evidently an alternate name for the
jail.//
A sample front page from 'Karagöz'.
They told him (Mahmud Şevket Paşa) about the crimes of the next
prisoner and after he learned about the reasons for the arrest of all the
other inmates, he left. It now seemed to me that execution was the
inescapable end result, especially after seeing a related article in the
'Karagöz' newspaper, above which the names Şerif Paşa, Hasan, Kemal,
Rıza Nur, Sırrı and Enver were written. The character Karagöz is seen
emptying a bucket of water, while his partner Hacivad stamps on the
wet ground with his foot, lamenting that "Oh God, Karagöz, two of
them got away, let's strangle the rest of them for goodness sake!"
//Ed. Note: the 'Kemal' referred to above is probably the
Kemal who recruited Sırrı into the 'secret society' and who
fled to Europe with money provided by (Mehmed) Şerif
Paşa, also referred to above. Evidently the "two that got
away" were Kemal and Şerif Paşa.//
I now believed that our death sentences had become a fait accompli,
remembering from my childhood days a caricature in 'Karagöz' where
a drunk Bekir says to a Jew "you'll wish you were dead." So I started
to consider alternatives to execution like being shot during an escape
attempt. I asked a guard about this and he told me that those who tried
to escape had their feet shot and stuck with bayonets.
Lately, they had been letting us out in the garden and I saw that the
wall on the side where the metal workers were located was about the
same level as a minaret. I figured that if I jumped off that wall I would
die instantly. But while I was preparing my will, I noticed an article in
a faded newspaper about a woman in Beyoğlu who jumped from a
fourth-floor window. She broke some bones but lived after being treated
at the French hospital.
How strange, I thought. A gentle woman breaks her bones but doesn't
die! Considering that my manly bones were much sturdier, I gave
myself no chance of dying from jumping. Next, I thought of slitting my
wrists with a piece of glass but finding one was impossible. I thought
and thought about suicide methods but couldn't come to a decision.
The trials were over and some prisoners were going to be released on the
eve of the holiday (Ramazan). But I was filled entirely with gloom,
accentuated by the sound of the cannon fire on the holiday morning,
which seemed to formally announce the terror of our calamity. We all
hung our heads in desperation, thinking about the joys of the holiday
on the outside, with children dressed in new clothes and everyone going
to the holiday prayer service. It hurt all the more, since I was a father
and head-of-household myself.
I dwelled on being deprived of these honors and the depths of my
family's sorrow. At that moment, prison warden Salim came, dressed in
his formal uniform and wearing white gloves. He wished us a happy
holiday but none of us responded in kind. Just by coming and saying
a few words, he thoroughly disgusted us. After he left, we all began to
cry like the Iranians do during the grief ceremony in the month of
Muharrem and to shout curses about the CUP leaders and cadres.
The holiday passed and the chances of getting newspapers and news
from the outside ended, because henceforth they weren't letting anyone
from the outside into Bakkalkapı Prison.
//END of PART X//
Hiç yorum yok:
Yorum Gönder