The World From The Windowsill

I’m either 6 or 7. I’m in the living room, laying on the carpet. I have my favorite toy in my hand, a little White dog with pink ears and a pink nose. The television is on, a radio channel again. 90’s Turkish pop, is my favo
urite. My mother is on the sofa, a book in her hands. My father is in the kitchen, probably drinking coke secretly, as usual. Footsteps approaching from the kitchen and an excited shout: Quickly look out the window, it’s snowing!

My eyes are shining, I throw the toy on the carpet and run to the window. My mother comes after me, and then my father. There is a street lamp in front of our house, the yellow light shows the snow glamorous. I adore these white little pretty things.

Mom and dad look for two minutes and then come back to the sofa. I am there. Hours pass, the songs change, sometimes our cat comes and walks around my legs. I’m still there. Missing the first snow of the year? Even stepping out the window for two seconds is like a betrayal for me.

My mother made salep, she brings it. I hold the glass in my hands, it’s warm. The city is quiet. This happens every time it snows, I don’t know why but absolutely I love it! I watch people passing by, there is a young girl in a black coat. She is walking by herself, has a calming aura

It’s 9 o’clock. Come on, they say, it’s time for bed! A kiss for mom and one for dad. If I go to bed without doing this ritual, it is impossible for me to sleep.

I have a stereo on my desk, gray. I only have three types that appeal to me and I only listen to one of them. Today I want to listen to something else. I’m running the radio. There are a couple of good channels. I open one of them, yes, something just like i want!

Songs are playing in foreign languages, I don’t understand what they are about to but I have no doubt that they are so beautiful. A man with a deep voice presents the program, interestingly very deep voice. A request came from a listener from Ankara, a request for a poem. I guess the radio guy is used to such things. He begins to read a poem about snow and such beautiful things as love, freedom, hope and brotherhood. A small smile forms on my face. As if snow unites all people…

I’m thinking about tomorrow, going to school and building a snowman with my two best friends. Then maybe have a snowball fight or write our black initials on. I pray: Dear Lord, please let the city be white and let it snow when I wake up, please…

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