God’s gift and terrorism’s gift

It is the weekend.

OK, for plenty of you the weekend means time off, rest and a day spent with the kids.

But, not for us. It is a working day like any other. In fact, it is a pretty busy day. There is snow in the air, too. You cannot stretch out work on the column until the evening because there might be problems at the distribution end. So, you have to knock out the column super-fast and get it off to the editorial office.

In fact, the convention in our business that Sundays call for somewhat light, somewhat off-beat and if possible cheerful articles has long since been forgotten.

And you are embarking on a weekend with the news: “Car bomb attack in Kayseri claims the lives of 13 citizens - 48 injured.” And the news comes with a sting in its tail. For the time being. That is, the number of dead may rise. Some of the injured who are on the verge between life and death may tilt in the direction of death.

Questions of, “Who did it? Do we know which organisation is claiming responsibility?” infuriate you. You reprimand the askers, saying, “Is it that important? What difference does it make?”

In fact, the ink has yet to dry on all that has been written about the vile attack right beside the Dolmabahçe Stadium.

And Istanbul, which went to sleep in a snowstorm on Friday night woke up to cheerful sunshine in the morning.

Do not let it fool you. Old timers will tell you, “the snow’s building up” about the sun that comes out after a snowstorm.

True.

There is the scent of snow in the air.

It is the weekend.

Turkey woke up to news emanating from the foothills of Mount Argaeus.

There is the scent of blood in the air.

In the political literature, the dove symbolises peace and the falcon war.

The falcon is a bird of prey. It preys on the living.

There is the scent of snow in the air, and of blood in the country.

A country where the doves are in jail.

The day is the day of the falcons.

***

They spoke of a “Gift from God” with reference to 15 July.

They would not now be far off the mark to speak of a “Gift from terrorist organisations.”

Gifts pour down from above on those who seek pretexts and opportunities to shove the doves in jail.

The falcons bear gifts on their wings in the cause of strangling democracy.

Those who look at the world and life through the sights of guns saying, “Steady, take aim, fire” give succour to dirty, bloody ideologies with their bloody, vile attacks.

The cries of anguish rising from Istanbul and Kayseri mingle with the sobs of children in Aleppo.

And.

And, a scribe sits at his desk toiling on his Sunday column, taking out his anger, sorrow and anguish, to say nothing of his hopelessness, on the keys of the computer.

Bang, bang, bang ...