“excuse me?” Someone said. I ran “here is what you wanted.” They gave their orders. At that time, I was doing other things, trying to reach other tables. Suddenly that table asked for something more. I ran again and took their orders with the same manners and morals. They were very kind. They were very humane too. The place we are in was actually a tourist attraction. Turkish customers wouldn’t come much. When we saw them speaking Turkish like that, we felt ourselves at home.

The papers started to come out on the table. I looked there are poems scribbled on it with the corner of my eye. They even discuss poetry with their friends. It caught my attention when it came to poetry. Such customers would not come much. Anyways. During the long discussion, they began to answer each other the content of the poem, even answer and questions. Someone read a line from a poemThe other could not answer. -If my tongue was cut off and I didn’t intervene there- I said the poet. They turned and looked at me. When we came to my eyes, I looked like I was saying “what happened? Someone said, “Are you interested in poetry?” I said, “No, I’m not interested, it was the poem I knew by chance”, but it wasn’t very convincing that they looked at me like “I wonder.


Anyway, when they were empty, I took permission and sat next to them. We started talking. They read the poems they wrote. Frankly, they were not poems that were my style and that I could listen to, but I watched and admired their excitement as their labor and dealing with poetry impressed me. We’ve exaggerated a bit. We went from poetry to classics, history, sociology. As the conversation progresses. They were constantly telling me “Are you really the waitress here?” I always said “yes” without anything odd to me.

They wanted to meet again. He grabbed my hand and said, “We felt like we were in a movie scene. It’s like the paper collector being a karate teacher. ” he said, laughing.


Yes, our life was like a movie. Everyone has a movie, a script, a “darkened” “RTÜK disabled image and voice.” We can hear stories that can be affected by lives we never imagined. Those two young people – our ages were close to one – were classifying people under the influence of their prejudices. We are all actually prejudiced and judged.

Just like in Nikos Kazantzakis’ ZORBA. The author is about what goes between the boss and a worker.


He calls it “paper rat” for his bully boss. The boss licked ink and squeezed himself in books, detached from life, who thinks life is just a theory. This man, whom he took with him to get his work done and run the mine, actually changes the life of the “Paper Mouse”.

The boss changes all the book information he knows after getting to know Zorba.

I am neither Bully nor “Paper Rats”do we have a criticism of

In life, some characters remain in our minds so much that whether this is the fiction of the author or the people who do the words and actions we do not expect in momentary events, are not erased from memories.


1 – Nonsense huh? Shame! When will a human be a human? We wear trousers, starched collars, hats, but we are still mules, wolfs, foxes, pigs. We have an image of God! Who has it? Is it with us? …

2 – No, you are not free, he said. Your rope is a little longer than that of other people; that is all!

3 – What is your favorite food, daddy?

– All of them . It is a great sin to say that this food is good and the other is bad.

– Why is that? Can’t we make a selection?

– No sir, we can’t.

– But why?

– Because there are other people who are hungry. I fell silent, ashamed. My heart had never reached such grace and pity for me.


4 – I once said: This is a Turkish, this is a Bulgarian, and this is a Greek. I have done such things for the homeland that boss, you will shudder; I slaughtered men, stole, burned villages, raped women, looted houses… Why? Because these were Bulgarians, or I don’t know what… Now I often say to myself. Damn dirty dude, no, no stupid! So I got smarter, now I look at people and say: This is the good guy, that bad. Whether Bulgarian, Greek or Turkish! All one for me. Now, is it good or bad, I’m just looking at it.

5 – I was convinced that happiness is a simple and obvious thing and nothing more than a glass of wine, a chestnut, a brazier and the hum of the sea. But one needs to have a simple and open heart to understand that all this is happiness.

6 – I’m telling you, boss, all that happens in this world is unfair, unfair, unfair! I’m the little wolf, I’m the naked snail Zorba, I’m not signing the bottom of anything! Why should the boys and young women die and leave the scraps! Why would little children die?

7 – I was looking at Zorba in the moonlight. I was seeing how she fearlessly and naively adapted herself to the world, how her body and soul came together, how the woman, the man, the brain, sleep and everything, in joy and harmony, integrated with her skin and formed Zomba. I have never seen that human beings and the world are so friendly.

8 – I was happy; I knew that. It is difficult for us to grasp a happiness while experiencing it; but when we pass and look back, we suddenly realize, with a little admiration, how happy we are. But I was experiencing happiness on this Cretan coast, and I knew I was happy.

8 – I was happy; I knew that. It is difficult for us to grasp a happiness while experiencing it; but when we pass and look back, we suddenly realize, with a little admiration, how happy we are. But I was experiencing happiness on this Cretan coast, and I knew I was happy.

9 – I do not rejoice for good, nor grieve for evil; If I found out that the Greeks took Istanbul, it is the same for me as the Turks took Athens.

10 – I believe that every person has a distinct smell: We do not understand this because the scents are mixed together, we do not know which is yours and which is mine; he only realizes that the air emits a foul odor; we call it humanity.

The bully character is an example. Let’s abandon our prejudices and evaluate people not in terms of color, race, religion, sect, but as “good or bad” as Zorba did.

Because the main thing is human.

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