Some nights they refuse to co-operate. Last night again saw me thinking and not wanting to think.  Some memories have a mind of their own – a relentless, sadistic, stubborn kind of mind that would only let go of its grip when itself ready to let go.

I got up , went to the living room, pulled the verticals a little to the side. Turned the recliner around and sat there facing the night. The Moon was shining over the lake and there was a shimmering silver path reflecting on the dark water – Turkish Dream – that is what it is.

Has anyone seen the Moon shining over the Bosphorus – the Strait in Turkey? Sitting on the hotel balcony, I thought it was the most beautiful and mysterious experience. That night the Strait was bathing in the heavenly light, like a surreal dream.  There were two small boats and a barge, en- rout to their destinations and a restless tourist on the hotel balcony.

Murad’s family had invited us to an afternoon tea at their beautiful house on the Bosphorus. There were about thirty people invited to meet us. A lively group of friends and family. There, two ladies had an interesting discussion about a name – Jahid or Mujahid. They both were adamant that only her name was grammatically correct. One of the ladies was Turkish and the other was an Arab. It was interesting and for some obscure reason it would not vacate my mind for other thoughts to come in an register. So, a glass of water in hand, I stepped out on the balcony and watched the night. On the other side – the Eastern part – tiny specks of light were twinkling. On my left, the famous Hanging Bridge was busy with non stop speeding traffic. No sound; just blazing lights! I sat there a long time . Not thinking about the day trip we were taking in the morning.

I never look at time whenever I have difficulty falling asleep. Keeping tabs on time makes one anxious unnecessarily. At some point I got up, pulled the verticals in place, returned the recliner back to its place and went in my room.

Sleep was a ‘rahmat’ that slowly came.