For a girl named Peace: “I don’t want to be a tree; I want to be its meaning.”

Ka’s snowland trees

Ka looks at the snow trail and loses interest. He knows it is not important or relevant to the task at hand. He was born with a destiny and his assignment on earth is to fulfill that destiny. Nothing and no one can obstruct him from achieving that. Not An, no matter how much she may matter to him right now. He takes out his collection of a favorite writer’s quotes from the many books he wrote. Ka has read all his books. Somehow he can relate to those main characters in the books. Very lonely introverts who think a lot inside their hearts but are reluctant to articulate to anyone except perhaps a soul mate who may be non-existent. In a way, the readers become the soul mates of the narrators. Who are Ka’s soul mates? Readers? Why do they read his story? How long will he regard this world as his home?

“For if a lover’s face survives emblazoned on your heart, the world is still your home.” ― Orhan Pamuk, My Name Is Red

Ka does not have a lover (as defined by earth). He doesn’t consider An as even a potential lover. He does not have any agenda regarding establishing any intimate connection with anyone on earth. He is not programed to do that. He was born through a human birth and he has a soul and a spirit as well. But he is not human in terms of his heart. The heart is where all the programming has been done. And his heart controls his body.

In a way he is like a perfect tree. Yet he is not a tree. He has the perfect root system, trunk, branches, leaves and all the externalities of a healthy beautiful tree. Tall, straight, handsome, his countenance majestic and reaches to the sky. Yet, in his heart he knows he is far far more than that. “I don’t want to be a tree; I want to be its meaning.” (Orhan Pamuk) He has a purpose and meaning that no other on earth has. And he is here in this snow land finding out what it is. And here he has met a girl named An (Peace) and it seems there is a meaning in their encounter with each other.

When An says she loves him, he doesn’t know what the word “love” exactly means. Through her words it would appear she means she wants to possess his body and his soul, which is normally what other earthlings mean when using that word. Ka has rejected that word if it means that.

But what does his heart mean when he says he loves her in his heart? He knows it does not mean possession. It means something he wants to give her. The word “love” means “giving” without condition in his case. What does he want to give her? He searches his heart and finds it hard to describe in any language on earth. The best he can say is he wants to protect her and give her security. But they are not yet at war. There are always preparations by default but no one knows the timing. And he doesn’t know when. He has been assigned by his outer-space Source-authority to work on the four winds independently. An earth power has been assigned to give him a special classified status to access to certain military mobility resources.

So what is the meaning of a tree with which he has identified? Ka is still waiting for the answer to the question in his heart. (To be continued)

for a girl named Peace: Immersing oneself in the problems of a book is a good way to keep from thinking of love

Ka’ s snow land

He is not programed to love the way human love. That is why he has chosen to be a writer in his earthly pass-time. He lives in a small sparsely furnished back room. An occupies the beautiful master bedroom suite which she decorated tastefully for herself. The middle room is now empty. Ka doesn’t sleep the way others sleep. He goes to bed early and gets up at midnight and writes his book or works on his true assignment on the four wind. He doesn’t know what others do during the evening and he is not interested. He was trained in the etiquette of earth people before he got born into this world. He knows people eat dinner, drink, converse on unimportant matters or watch TV and then go to bed around midnight. He can do them when needed but they are of no relevance to him. He takes an afternoon meal and goes for long walk during which he talks in his own language which is instantly transmitted to the source-receiver in his own realm. He receives messages downloaded the same way from the outer-source-transmitter directly into his heart. When he returns to the house he has a shower and goes to bed in the early evening.

Ka is writing a book for earth people. It is about “Essence and Matter”. It is a good book because it is problematic. There are words that he has in his language that earth people do not have. For example, he is writing this story between An and him now as a book inside his book to illustrate the vast difference in definition between the love he believes in and the love An attempts to profess. What he used to think as straightforward has become very complicated now. How can he reconcile the two extremes? How can he avoid getting hurt or hurting her?

One significant word keeps coming up and demands to be defined and resolved. The word is “Possessed”. An defines love as possessing and being possessed in body and in soul. He defines love as not having to possess or be possessed. To him, love should be left free and pure of motive and agenda. He doesn’t look for reciprocation for love. In his language Love is giving. Love is not exchanging. For example, he gives her his love without the intention for an exchange with her or to get something in return for his benefits. In his realm, no one possesses anything. There is a solemn covenant made when two persons decide to love each other and be life partners. They may live together and share things and lives together. They may not. And they remain faithful in love for each other in essence regardless of the space and even time that may separate them. There is no divorce. There is no adultery. There is no affair outside a marriage covenant. There is no consummation in the physical realm.

In the earth realm, marriage without physical consummation can be annulled in court, even though physical consummation does not mean you have a particular love relationship between two persons secured for life in today’s promiscuity. In Ka’s world the covenant made in spoken words is the consummation. For example, if he says in audible sound to An, “I love you” and she accepts his vow of love, it is sealed and engraved into his and her heart and it is irreversible until the death of one party. The wise and more responsible thing to do is not to say anything unless you really mean what you say and is committed to keep it “forever” (until death do part).

Ka knows his book is boring and even borders on absurdity to a normal earth man or woman. “What kind of love is that? Weird!” They will exclaim in disbelief and laugh it off as a means to gain cheap publicity. Of course, he doesn’t intend it to be read by the mass audience. He only wants An to read it and keep it. Perhaps one day when she is very old she will think back and remember one snowy season what happened between she and a man from another realm and he is real and his love is pure and real even though he cannot say to her he loves her. And he cannot even touch her hand (with love in his heart) for a second without getting his heart seared. Maybe she will remember how her whole life was changed because she read this book one day out of pure love for him.

“I read a book one day and my whole life was changed.”― Orhan Pamuk, The New Life

One day she tells him she is working on the various topics that successful role models in the society can teach the young people about. She lists some possible professions and lifestyle practices. Then he adds, “What about how should a man treat a woman?” And her countenance lights up, “Why didn’t I think of that, yes, that is definitely the most important subject to teach!”

Perhaps that will be his next book. Looking through the blind, he notes that the snow has stopped and left an entirely different world outside. Colorless. Haunting. Like the seared love patches in his heart. (To be continued)

for a girl named Peace: does love make one a fool or do only fools fall in love?

a snow-painted land

He hears the piercing siren in his heart. He knows she is in danger. And she is crying out to him for help in his spirit. He sees her lying in a pool of blood. It is in the imminent future. Just as he sees her dancing with a strong, broad-shoulder man in a club. Those scenes have not yet happened but he sees them. He has a choice to make. It takes nine hours to fly non-stop by a commercial air-plane. Her time is seven hours ahead of his. It will take him two hours to get to his airport to catch the next flight. He can take a military plane anytime using his classified status. But he won’t.

What else can he do and is wiling to do for her? He can get there in the blinking of an eye through his super-human ability but it would mean having to give account later for misuse of power and worse, arbitrary changing of his station in the four wind. On the other hand if he travels by mere earth flights he will not be penalized.

He feels his heart in his throat, being pulled by an invisible string towards the unknown of hers, somewhere in another continent. He can see the helplessness and fear in her eyes biding him to go instantly.

“Tell me then, does love make one a fool or do only fools fall in love?”
(Orhan Pamuk, My name is Red.)

He decides to be the fool and opens his briefcase. In an instant he is there at her room door and he knocks. She opens and pulls him inside. “Quick, we have no time. That bully is coming shortly to take me to a dinner and a dance.” She says in one breath. “I know.” He smiles. She hands him her packed suitcase and holds on to his free hand firmly. In another instant they are back in the snow land house. The whole house is filled with the brilliance of his smile. He doesn’t know why he is smiling. It lasts only an instant and yet the happy effect lingers like forever.

For an instant he holds her hand and squeezes it. Then he lets go. That momentary bliss burns a sizzling pain in his heart. The housemate has moved out around the same time An left. And now there are only the two of them. An makes him a cup of coffee. They sit across the dinning table and look at each other. She looks deep into his eyes and sighs, “The sadness returns so soon.”

“You know I will come for you?” He asks. She nods. “I always know.”

“You know about my time machine and my ability to see beforehand and prevent bad events?” He wants her to admit she has hacked his code. Who is she? He begins to be cautious.

“Did you put those pictures into my vision? You dancing and lying in a pool of blood? Virtual images. ” He remains his cool, having switched back to his above the neck mode. He knows next to nothing of this woman whom he loves. He wishes he is writing a fiction. And this woman is a mere fictional character in his story.

I know all about you. She narrates like she is the fiction-writer herself. I have known you from the first ten minutes I met you. Ka, what makes you think you can hide from me and not let me find the real you? Yes, you are a writer as you say you are. You write into the hearts of people. And so do I. No, I don’t need to hack code. I use a higher power. It is called love.

“It may not happen in the first instant, but within ten minutes of meeting a man, a woman has a clear idea of who he is, or at least who he might be for her, and her heart of hearts has already told her whether or not she’s going to fall in love with him.” (Orhan Pamuk)

Believe it or not, I love you and that’s all I need. I know my beauty and worth. I know your super natural ability and power and you yourself told me you were different. No, I don’t do high tech. The bully pervert is real. My potential predicament is real. He is my ex-husband, a highly qualified and famous expert in socially exalted field. I married young and thought that he would lift me up to his pedestal but instead he delighted in crushing me to pulps in the mud. It was a bloody divorce. I went back to settle some outstanding financial issues and he is thinking of taking advantage again.

How did I know you would come for me and rescue me in time? I operate in love. Love doesn’t fail. You do not fail. Because you too, operate by love.

Ka suddenly feels immensely happy. She is back and she loves him.

“Happiness means being close to the one you love, that’s all. (Taking immediate possession is not necessary.)” (Orhan Pamuk, The Museum of Innocence)

I love you, An. He says inaudibly in the silence of his heart. But she answers as if she can hear his heart, “I love you too, Ka.” The snow has come again and started painting outside. (to be continued)

for a girl named Peace: listen to your heart

Before she finally storms out, she tells him repeatedly, “Ka, listen to your heart and not your head! I know you have a super genius head, but it means nothing to me. I want you to tell me honestly what your heart really feels. What your heart honestly decides. Whatever you want to say to me, filter through your heart. What does your heart really say to me? Stop lying to me that you are happy. I can see deep sadness ingrained in your eyes. “

“Happiness means the prospect of future misery and hopelessness. ” He hears his heart say to him. What his heart means is that her kind of happiness would bring sorrow and disaster to him. He is not programed to handle what she wants him to become to her.

She entices him from the very beginning. She is not his first woman. There are always women who want to love him in different space and time. But he has never left his heart and soul with them. He always locks his heart securely in purity, stays an indifferent and respectful distance and moves on. But she is different. When he is assigned to this corner of the wind he moves into this house and she moves in a day later. There is another woman housemate but An is the one who is attracted to him. He tells her he is a writer. And she says she likes writers. “How long will you be here?” She asks. He says he doesn’t know. He then hints that this could be his last assignment.

He is young and boyish looking, sort of ageless. She says he has good features, but looks intense and gives others a heavy feeling. Yet when he smiles he lights up the space as if there is a sudden burst of brilliant light coming from a million stars. His smile is spectacular and infectious. She is dazzled by his smile. But he hardly smiles. He even avoids looking at her in the eyes. She says he is rude and disrespectful. How can he tell her that the eyes are windows to the soul? He doesn’t want to see hers.

She knows he is using only his head to talk and interact with her. One day she draws an invisible line across his neck and says annoyingly, “You only use this upper part above your neck. You shut off all the rest below. Why? Why are you so scared of using the rest of your body?” She stares at him defiantly, issuing a challenge.

He knows what she means. She means she wants his soul and his body. And he cannot give her.

“Are you A or B?” One day she corners him and insists that he answers. “Neither.” He cannot lie. And she freaks out. He cannot explain to her that she should not think of him in human term. That he is from another realm and not her kind. His body is human but that is all. His heart, thoughts, abilities, emotions and feelings are not. Even his concept of love and the way it should be expressed are not what she thinks it should be.

We live in the essence of things and not the things themselves. He deliberates in his heart. We do not speak things unless we want them to manifest in the physical realm. We don’t depend on the physical to know if anything is real because the essence in our hearts is real enough. Our bliss is from the inside and not outside. It means we are not vulnerable to the external elements. It also means we are invincible. A silent lecture forms in his heart when she rants. Her words are like pearly rain drops that glide off the surface of waxed leaves although he enjoys watching the passion and love with which she expresses in such honesty for a man she doesn’t even know.

“Nothing makes you happy in life except love… Neither the books you write or cites you see… I am very lonely… If I say that I want to be here in this city close to you until the end of my life would you believe me?”
―Orhan Pamuk, Snow

Yet right now he has this strange quote in his heart. If I say that I want to be here in this city close to you until the end of my life would you come back? He asks in silence. (To be continued)

for a girl named Peace: What is the thing you want most from me?

“What is the thing you want most from me? What can I do to make you love me?’ Be yourself,’ said Ipek.” (Orhan Pamuk, Snow) Ka (not the Ka in Snow) takes out his briefcase and looks into it. He has always kept his secret inside. He has a special code to its lock. One day he finds An trying to open it. “I can open anything, you know.” She says, “but this one I can’t.” She cannot open his heart, he sighs.

“What is the thing you want most from me?” He asks. “Say you love me.” She answers. He cannot say it. Because in his language he cannot say anything unless he wants to put it into action and he cannot put love into action in her world.

Why can’t you just say it? Is it because you think I am not pretty or attractive enough for you? She asks.

No, it is not that. You are very beautiful. But I cannot love you the way you want me to. I just cannot. I am not programed that way. Maybe one day you will know why, but I cannot tell you now. He thinks quietly to himself.

Ka is not from earth realm. He is born into a human body but he does not function the way human do. Seeing her hurt and anger because she feels rejected and despised, he wants to comfort and tell her, “You are very lovely and I love you but I cannot be what you want me to be. I cannot put love into the action you expect. You see, in my realm we love in a different way. ” Of course he cannot explain this to her. It will expose his secret.

He sits at the dusk window and looks far. He does not expect her to return. He can actually see her (through his spirit) now in her flowing long white dress dancing in the arms of an earth man. And she is resting her lovely head on his broad shoulder. They just had a dinner at her favorite exclusive restaurant in that old city and now they are dancing to her favorite jazz, “Cry me a river”. Ka would want to be that man (if he could). But he couldn’t. He is born to earth with a special mission and he has to complete it before he returns to where he is from.

He tries to imagine how he may continue his letter, “Well, An, you may think I am crazy or trying to bluff, but I am really from another realm. “

He falls asleep as he writes in his heart. He wakes suddenly in the middle of the night and the room is illuminated by the reflection of the snow outside his window. He feels wetness on his cheek. He has been crying in his sleep. In his sleep he has felt human pain in his heart. He can fall in love with a woman only if he knows next to nothing about her. And An is that woman.

“Why can’t you be either A or B? I can accept you as long as you be just one and not both!” Her hurting words are unintentional but they are real. He replies in the silence of his heart, “Neither. I am not there. I am neither.”

He is not the only one sent to earth. There are not many but he is not alone. They are scattered to man the four corners of the wind and they do not change position unless there is a cosmic shift. From birth he knows he is different. He has power and ability beyond nature. He knows things. He sees the unseen. He sees with his spirit. Thoughts come true when he speaks. And he has to be careful what he speaks. Instructions have been downloaded to him since he can remember.

People tend to misunderstand him and think that he is proud. He is not. He is just being real. In his realm there is only truth. Purity and truth.

But right now he shuts off his spiritual eyes because he doesn’t want to see her. He respects her privacy. He knows how hard she has been searching love. In the story Snow, Ka asks the woman whom he knows nothing about, “What is the thing you want most from me? What can I do to make you love me?’ Be yourself,’ ” she replies.

Then he remembers an earth song called, “Sometimes when we touch”.

You ask me if I love you
And I choke on my reply
I’d rather hurt you honestly
Than mislead you with a lie…

At times I understand you
And I know how hard you’ve tried
I’ve watched while love commands you
And I’ve watched love pass you by
At times I think we’re drifters
Still searching for a friend
A brother or a sister
But then the passion flares again

“Suddenly Ka realized he was in love with İpek. And realizing that this love would determine the rest of his life, he was filled with dread.”
― Orhan Pamuk, Snow

He is filled with dread. Yet he whispers in the secret of his heart, “Come back, I love you.” (To be continued)

for a girl named Peace: I know next to nothing about you

He decides to write a letter which he will not post. ‘Dear An (pronounced as “Un” meaning “peace” in her ancestor’s language), I am writing a letter that I shall not post because you have not given me your address. I write because I cannot phone. On the eve of your departure I asked for your number and you said, “No need. What do you want to contact me for?” So here is a letter I shall not post.

Indeed, as he lifts up his pen he pauses and ponders, “What do I write to you for?” There was never any commitment between them. They had never even shook hands. From the beginning she said, “Let us be platonic friends.” Yes, it seems a good idea. No commitment. Platonic. No contact in anyway except in the intellect. No unwanted sentiment. No knot tying. No strings attached. Clean and pure.

Hence he writes, “My platonic friend, I just want to say that the pink snow has come and filled our void. The snow land has become a postcard overnight and this is a glimpse of her dawn. Yes, I am back here early thinking of packing and moving. I am lingering between a regret and an apprehension, such as, “what if you come home and find me gone?” or “what if I stay and you never return?”

His perception is that she will not return. His hope is that she will. I must not expect the worst case scenario. He says to himself. There is a fifty-fifty chance for everything. perhaps she will or perhaps she won’t. Deep down he knows the chance concerning a human’s physical decision is actually 100 to 0 either way. How can she be returning half and not returning another half? The chance is always 100 or zero. Either she loves him and will return as a full person or she doesn’t love him and will not return. She tells him on the day she storms out, “You can only be either A or B. You cannot be both A and B together!”

What shall I say to a woman whom I hardly know? Sometimes she says she wants to be his best friend and other times she says she is not his friend. She never tells him her past. She is shocked he can google and find her photo with the dog. “You have no right to do that!” He tells her he is a researcher and story writer. it is natural for him to find information by all means.

He wants to explain to her that a story teller often adopts many roles. He submerges himself in another’s stories and sometimes people get confused between his real life and the story’s hero’s life. He wants to say that he is neither A nor B. He is just not anyone.

“Believe me, the snow has a special hue. Wish you were here. ” (He thinks of Fleetwood Mac’s song).

Oh, this distance between us
Can’t get you off of my mind
As I lay here in the darkness

wish you were here.

he signs his name, Ka (BTW, I know next to nothing about you.)

“There are two kind of men,’ said Ka, in a didatic voice. ‘The first kind does not fall in love until he’s seen how the girls eats a sandwich, how she combs her hair, what sort of nonsense she cares about, why she’s angry at her father, and what sort of stories people tell about her. The second type of man — and I am in this category — can fall in love with a woman only if he knows next to nothing about her.”
― Orhan Pamuk, Snow

for a girl named Peace: a haiku and a prose

A girl named Peace

He nearly passed her by. But something inside his heart prompted him to turn back and went over to look at this flower. She is a tiny insignificant thing presenting herself alone in the cold. She is the only flower in sight. There is a flaw on the outside of the petals. He would have walked by without glancing back.

Yet he turned his head and looked and then walked back to her. He looks at her from another angle and takes some shots. He keeps taking until he finds a perfect angle. Then he walks home.

He has not come this way for 1825 days. This time he comes for a break from the snow land for the warmer weather. This morning he decides to walk. And then he sees her.

She is beautiful from one angle. So is a woman in the snow land. She appears in his scene awhile ago. He has captured a perfect shot of her in the camera of his heart and stored the precious glimpse of her soul in his treasure chest.

It is just a morning in November and they have only met for two months. Someone says it is her birthday and he asks her whether she wants a meal or a present. He merely asks casually out of polite goodwill. She replies that she wants neither. She says a breakfast will do and she will provide her own tea. He can provide a cookie.

A day before that morning he walks to the pharmacy and buys her a Disney Pooh’s card on enjoying the little things in life and be someone’s reason to smile. He then decides to make her a proper gift. He googles and finds a picture of her holding her beloved dog (who has reached his full age and died a year before she comes to this land) and pastes it on a piece of A4 paper. Then he finds and pastes on it a Rudyard Kipling’s poem on “The Power of a Dog”, using human friendship (with a dog) to illustrate the inevitable sadness of parting after an investment of sentiment.

On her birthday she brews Starbucks coffee and butters a croissant for him. They sit across the breakfast table (in a house shared among three housemates) and he gives her the present. He says, “Be prepared to cry.” She cries. He never asks her why. He knows why.

Then a stormy relationship attempts to develop and they both crash at the take off runway.

Like this flower he finds by the roadside now there is a taint which is so glaring in one angle. Yet like this same flower there is a great beauty in her that more than covers whatever taint she has.

I will remember you. He says to the corner of his heart where he keeps his treasure of pictures of momentary glimpses of beauty. Will you remember me? He asks in silence.

Does remembrance really matter? He tries to remember all the women who had tried to love him before. But he could not reciprocate their passion, unlike the playing cards which he handles so well. Which card is his heart, spade or heart or diamond? Then he remembers the lyrics of a song, That’s not the shape of my heart.

She gets very upset when he doesn’t say he loves her. She wants him to say it. But he can’t. It is a life and death issue involved and that’s why he cannot say it to any woman. Can she not see in the sadness in his eyes?

Somewhere someone says, there is no greater love than this, laying down your life for the one you love. No, he does not know the size of his love, if any, and certainly not to the extent of laying down his life for someone, even a woman.

So here he is sauntering down a gentle sunny slope with a deck of new cards, and she, lost, two oceans away in the city of biography and reminiscence and childhood dream, none laying down their lives for one another.

He walks home slowly and sighs, “This flower is beautiful to behold, but there is a distinct flaw. ” Still he has decided to keep the two pictures, to remind him of this sunny morning and his encounter with this flower. “I love you. Come home.” He whispers in his heart to the girl named Peace. (To be continued)

a girl named Peace 2

a haiku for a girl named Peace

coffee croissant shared

thug life mug handled with care

ignore or beware

“#Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge, #CFFC