I have a story: she has a story; we both had a story.
I met her at an unusual place – a book cafe: a calm evening with dark clouds, the popular Julius Meinl coffee on the table, Istanbul and there she was searching for the book. I was looking at her and could sense her impatience for ‘that' book. I tried to keep my eyes away from noticing her – she was beautiful. I was enjoying my coffee, trying to write something, gazing at the clouds, seeing the dark getting darker, the traffic becoming silent, birds going to their babies, and that girl still searching for ‘that' book.
"Fuck this library!" she seemed to be exhausted. Despite being so technically advanced, the library still allows you to feel that the library that existed in older times: it lets you search the books without any digital intervention. She sat right in the chair opposite mine. "I think you should keep quiet," I asked her. She didn't bother to look at me and kept her head down. "Mrs Dollaway, is it?" I tried helping her by guessing a name. "It's Dall-o-way," she looked right at me and the way her lower lips moved away from upper lips while pronouncing ‘way' at the end, I really thanked the one who invented phonetics or pronunciation thing, "and yeah, I was reading that earlier and that went missing". I smiled, "Yeah! I have Dyslexia and that's why this Dalloway thing, am sorry." She seemed to be apologetic. It's so good to lie sometimes, I have no dyslexia, but who cares. "Hey! I am really sorry, I am just searching for a book but she didn't seem to be anywhere in this library and I don't want to go anywhere else," I was listening patiently. "Things fall apart," I tried another guess. "Fuck! Yeah! That one! DO YOU HAVE THE BOOK YOU NAMED!" She was thrilled. "Yeah, I have her. Do you want her?" Her twinkling eyes were enough to convey that she knew I love books like her because I addressed books as ‘her'.
"Yeah, yeah, I would want to. I was reading that book for the past 15 days and suddenly this book too went missing somewhere," she was a book lover and her love to stories was evident.
"Coffee? This place is loved for the books and the Julius Meinl coffee?" I told her and continued, "you are new to this book cafe, right?!"
"Yeah," She didn't have any further enquiries.
We sat, drank the coffee, looked at the dark clouds, shared stories, went for a walk, got to know each other.
Isn't it strange that the girl didn't ask ‘how did I know the books she was searching for; how did I know that she was new to the cafe, why she just went for the walk with me when we met for the first time, why she told her stories to me: so many whys.'
Her name was Aahalya, 25 years old, 5 feet 4 inches, brown, black hair, Civil Engineer at Foster and Wheeler, 4 breakups, love to find herself in the stories told by others to escape the reality, not a coffee lover, avid book reader, demisexual, and beautiful lips.
I saw her the first time in the library and I found her beautiful; I just wanted to see her talk, so I took or stole the books she was reading and kept it in my bag and pretended to write every single day. I knew she didn't drink the popular coffee so I asked for it, I knew she was new to the cafe. She wasn't dumb enough to figure out that I wasn't a dyslectic by anyway, the way I was typing, by precisely telling her the books she was searching for, and then asking her for the coffee which she hasn't tasted in the book cafe from the day she has come.
She told me her stories that evening, and I told her mine. We exchanged numbers, went on a few walks, kissed each other on a starry night at the back of the library, once in the library, and I gave her the one book she wanted (obviously! after we kissed), and the other book after...making love for the first time – I know it sounds cheap.
After listening to stories of each other, taking long walks, seeing the sunsets, dating, kissing and making love for around 7 years now, it is the time to get married. I am getting married to her. A simple love story that started by just wanting to talk to her, to marrying her. This is my story or my version of the story, she would be writing her own; and you would know my name then.
Date: September 17, 2020
Venue: Sumahan on the Water
Address: Çengelköy Mh., Kuleli Cd No:43, 34684 İstanbul, Turkey
Coordinates: 41.054085, 29.051807
We make stories that we want to – nothing happens by chance.
I met her at an unusual place – a book cafe: a calm evening with dark clouds, the popular Julius Meinl coffee on the table, Istanbul and there she was searching for the book. I was looking at her and could sense her impatience for ‘that' book. I tried to keep my eyes away from noticing her – she was beautiful. I was enjoying my coffee, trying to write something, gazing at the clouds, seeing the dark getting darker, the traffic becoming silent, birds going to their babies, and that girl still searching for ‘that' book.
"Fuck this library!" she seemed to be exhausted. Despite being so technically advanced, the library still allows you to feel that the library that existed in older times: it lets you search the books without any digital intervention. She sat right in the chair opposite mine. "I think you should keep quiet," I asked her. She didn't bother to look at me and kept her head down. "Mrs Dollaway, is it?" I tried helping her by guessing a name. "It's Dall-o-way," she looked right at me and the way her lower lips moved away from upper lips while pronouncing ‘way' at the end, I really thanked the one who invented phonetics or pronunciation thing, "and yeah, I was reading that earlier and that went missing". I smiled, "Yeah! I have Dyslexia and that's why this Dalloway thing, am sorry." She seemed to be apologetic. It's so good to lie sometimes, I have no dyslexia, but who cares. "Hey! I am really sorry, I am just searching for a book but she didn't seem to be anywhere in this library and I don't want to go anywhere else," I was listening patiently. "Things fall apart," I tried another guess. "Fuck! Yeah! That one! DO YOU HAVE THE BOOK YOU NAMED!" She was thrilled. "Yeah, I have her. Do you want her?" Her twinkling eyes were enough to convey that she knew I love books like her because I addressed books as ‘her'.
"Yeah, yeah, I would want to. I was reading that book for the past 15 days and suddenly this book too went missing somewhere," she was a book lover and her love to stories was evident.
"Coffee? This place is loved for the books and the Julius Meinl coffee?" I told her and continued, "you are new to this book cafe, right?!"
"Yeah," She didn't have any further enquiries.
We sat, drank the coffee, looked at the dark clouds, shared stories, went for a walk, got to know each other.
Isn't it strange that the girl didn't ask ‘how did I know the books she was searching for; how did I know that she was new to the cafe, why she just went for the walk with me when we met for the first time, why she told her stories to me: so many whys.'
Her name was Aahalya, 25 years old, 5 feet 4 inches, brown, black hair, Civil Engineer at Foster and Wheeler, 4 breakups, love to find herself in the stories told by others to escape the reality, not a coffee lover, avid book reader, demisexual, and beautiful lips.
I saw her the first time in the library and I found her beautiful; I just wanted to see her talk, so I took or stole the books she was reading and kept it in my bag and pretended to write every single day. I knew she didn't drink the popular coffee so I asked for it, I knew she was new to the cafe. She wasn't dumb enough to figure out that I wasn't a dyslectic by anyway, the way I was typing, by precisely telling her the books she was searching for, and then asking her for the coffee which she hasn't tasted in the book cafe from the day she has come.
She told me her stories that evening, and I told her mine. We exchanged numbers, went on a few walks, kissed each other on a starry night at the back of the library, once in the library, and I gave her the one book she wanted (obviously! after we kissed), and the other book after...making love for the first time – I know it sounds cheap.
After listening to stories of each other, taking long walks, seeing the sunsets, dating, kissing and making love for around 7 years now, it is the time to get married. I am getting married to her. A simple love story that started by just wanting to talk to her, to marrying her. This is my story or my version of the story, she would be writing her own; and you would know my name then.
Date: September 17, 2020
Venue: Sumahan on the Water
Address: Çengelköy Mh., Kuleli Cd No:43, 34684 İstanbul, Turkey
Coordinates: 41.054085, 29.051807
We make stories that we want to – nothing happens by chance.
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