I was planning to spend the day in Istiqlal street today, between watching my friend’s event on Italian kitchen in the Galata Tower and strolling in shops while taking coffee breaks to work on my presentation for my University.
Somehow, I did all… I had coffee, I revised the presentation, I even wrote a few paragraphs in my novel, I met my friend, I tasted some Italian food, I strolled into shops, I was once again fascinated by how this streets opens like a wave and shuts back with each movement … I was taking pictures. I was watching people enjoying their time… what a welcoming city I always find myself muttering … clean of course.
I don’t know what happened when I though while I was strolling inside Zara with people jammed in all direction, what would people do if something horrific take place. Maybe it was the effect of a thought yesterday after mentioning earthquakes in a discussion
I just decided I wanted to walk back. A less than an hour later, I spotted a military keep and I smiled at the thought … it felt like a deja vu. Moment later my daughter was calling , everyone was calling … an explosion took place in Taqseem.
It seemed surreal to think about what has took place in the very same place I was walking, observing, thinking of the next time I will be buying chestnuts, or grab a seat in a coffee place nearby.
Too many people I thought… too many innocent people … too many victims… in a street where people can walk around feeling like people… regardless to where they are coming from , how much they have in their pockets or banks , what kind of activity amuses them most …
Unfortunately , some have no sense of any value to what it means to be living like a human.