Having a conversation with him was like having that conversation on a Mediterranean beach at summer nights. It was the times where I was relentlessly humiliated and excluded, with nobody else left in the world. We met at such a moment. He received me by himself with an old, baggy trousers on him, when I went to the city where he lived in order to get his opinions about destiny. We looked at one another for a moment at the airport exit. We were both poor. There was such a flow in his looks that love-filled caravans couldn\u2019t carry that burden. It was at this moment when I broke with the past, that I forgave everyone and I got healed. It was a “moment”, just a \u201cmoment\u201d… Did the scar of those years that passed in pain and in rooms covered with spider nets really heal? Yes, they did…<\/p>\n
We started to talk about destiny. As we were on the way to his run-down house… We were going to talk about it for three full days. Non-stop…<\/p>\n
The Creator, who knew the antecedents of everything being experienced, was also foreseeing what\u2019s going to happen in the future with full accuracy, whether he wanted it or not. This must have been the one step of the thing called destiny. Because the antecedents wouldn\u2019t change, what was experienced would not change either.<\/p>\n
Just then, until the end of the seventy-two-hour period, he said \u201cYou cannot find it by thinking about God… You’ll find it in your heart, that\u2019s the only solution.”. Alas, now the question \u201cWhat is heart?\u201d was about to start.<\/p>\n
In the meantime, it was obvious that practices were made at night time when hearts were excited…<\/p>\n
When I asked a question, the man I talk about was looking up in the Quran, in the Bible, in the Torah, consulting the rabbi, priests, mufti about the answer to that question. He was reading. He was reading Mehmet Akif. He was reading the Capital of Karl Marx from cover to cover. He was a true intellectual… Yet none of his characteristics could explain those looks. Because it was not possible to catch those looks even in those who were very knowledgeable. What courageous, affectionate looks they were, almost reflecting the softness, mercy and power of the one that is merciful. They were emphasizing the intentions to forgive all of our sins and mistakes. For instance, he was telling about a drunk, psychopath prison breaker showing up at his door, screaming, scaring the neighbors that late at night, about them crying together, hugging each other without saying a single word.<\/p>\n
One day, he died, too… Leaving many in need behind.<\/p>\n
Nowadays, when I’m alone at night, I think and realize that everything has a knowledge and emotion. This truth, which has already been noticed by many, was always in the ears.<\/p>\n
I don\u2019t know how I should tell about it for those who don\u2019t know. For instance, think about a serial killer. They blindfold their victims before killing them… Do you know why? Who knows, maybe they were the ones who were telling about the importance of separating emotions from knowledge. Once the emotions are put behind a rag, there is no border before mercilessness. Once again, the way, the memories of deep dementia patients revive when they feel the emotion behind the events, was being witnessed.<\/p>\n
So, catching up with the truth was possible not only by knowing it, or only by heart, but by bringing the two together.<\/p>\n
The matter of heart and knowledge was hidden somewhere over here…<\/p>\n
He dressed the wounds of many, like me, and he left…<\/p>\n
I wish mercy for Sadi Baba. I know he didn\u2019t live his life in vain.<\/p>\n
– In fear that it might go overlooked, I add my daughter\u2019s comments:<\/p>\n
\u201cWe lived the thing called the age of reason without considering the emotions; we couldn\u2019t do away with wars and disasters. I wish those, who are considered greats by the history, looked a little bit like Sadi Baba… May God have mercy on his soul.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Having a conversation with him was like having that conversation on a Mediterranean beach at summer nights. It was the times where I was relentlessly humiliated and excluded, with nobody else left in the world. We met at such a moment.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":1376,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1216],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1708","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-aphorisms"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n