This text has been automatically translated from Turkish. Show Original
“I'm a bad guy, but are they all good people? I know I'm bad. When I was a child, my mother used to say, "May God not give such a naughty, impudent child to my friends..." Then I went to school. I couldn't make the teachers like me. They said, 'He's a lazy, stupid person...' I worked with my father, he said, 'You can't be a man.' He was right, I couldn't be a man. I couldn't make anyone like me. They called him a thief, a scoundrel, a rapist. I did not say anything."
Emin Efendi could neither draw his own path nor walk on the path that was drawn. He is one of thousands who regrets what he did and regrets what he did not do. Sometimes a storm breaks out inside him, but the breath that comes out of his mouth is always weak.
As the poet says, "My leaves are falling slowly / My name is autumn", it is one of those who reach the end without seeing spring and shed their leaves untimely.
In short, Emin Efendi is a strange man, in the middle of black and white...