The Thought Traveler
First edition. December 24, 2020.
Copyright © 2020 by Bahadır Ziya Yılmazer
This story is a work of fiction and any resemblance to people, places, or events is coincidental.
This e-book has been translated from Turkish. The original name is Düşünce Gezgini. And the images are from Pixabay.
I hope you enjoy reading this book.
Thinking... It is the concept that best describes the adventure of humanity. It is difficult to talk about any adventure for other beings. Because they have been remaining where they started, in the past centuries or millenniums. Humanity, on the other hand, has been in a continuous change and this process of change has continued by gaining momentum. The source of this situation is the ability to think. Comprehending an issue is thinking, learning is also thinking, daydreaming is also thinking. Everything about people starts with thinking.
Again, as an interesting situation, throughout history, humanity has mostly preferred to be hostile to thought and nevertheless did not give up thinking. Even such that; it has even thought about thinking, tried to discover the best ways to think and developed thoughts on learning to think.
The indispensability of thinking for human beings comes from being of thinking at the beginning of everything. The concepts in human life start with thinking first and the process that comes after it, varies from person to person. According to some, love; for some, belief; for some, justice; according to some, science has priority. Some of them also have not had any priority consideration between these and countless concepts used by humanity like these.
Everything about human that comes out with thinking is interrelated. Whatever a person values, his path somehow crosses with other concepts. Because the universe has a symmetrical structure where each path crosses each other. It does not matter which road you take, because you will travel all the roads. While going on the path of love, a person finds himself in the midst of grief, from there he is thrown into the arms of longing. Then maybe he reaches happiness, from there he tries to open a door to the mind. Without realizing, he finds himself where he started. Then he sets off again, and this journey takes forever. Life consists of eternal circles on which are traveled. So everyone experiences more or less the same things. Anyone, who is involved in one of them, comes out of one circle and joins the other when the time comes. In this way, travel between circles or realms continues without end. Perhaps there are also circles which have another time and dimension, and they extend to infinity.
The Thought Traveler has dropped by the Planet Earth on this eternity journey. He often experiences intertwined emotions that he cannot describe. In this universe where all roads cross each other, he makes thought journeys on different concepts. In this unknown axis of symmetry, he experiences love and pain, longing and union at the same time. Over what he lives, he has come to the conclusion that something is everything and that everything is also something.
Yes, the Traveler, who enjoys thinking, organizes thought trips on the experiences and in the meantime his heart accompanies his mind. He goes through processes that sometimes the heart and sometimes the mind come to the fore. Already in the universe, the way of the mind leads to heart, and the way of the heart also leads to mind. As a result, it all leads to human himself.
The act of thinking, which is the beginning of everything, concentrates him on justice. On the planet where people live; despite thinking is the most distinctive characteristic feature of human being, thought is held in contempt and he considers this situation as injustice. What he lived and what are lived through make justice an element which is longed for. In the journey that he continues with longing for justice, he experiences a confusion of mind and feeling in the polygon of love, sadness, loneliness, hope, friendship and many more. Indeed, human was an unknown being that has been acknowledged as an unsolvable enigma for thousands of years. And he is experiencing the process that every person goes through in this story, that is, the natural process of being human.
The story does not define any phenomenon or concept. It is just the questionings and adventures of a thought traveler in his own imagination.
This story takes place on planet Earth. It is an expression of the pain, love on this heartless planet and longing for other planets. It depicts the need for justice of aliens due to the evils of the earthlings. It reflects the psychology of being charged while innocent. It is somewhere between fiction and reality. There is no clear concept of time, as it describes a finite point on the infinite space.
He had been exposed to relentless attacks. The whole world had come together, was attacking him ruthlessly, unscrupulously and furiously. Moreover, even a tiny crumb of mercy shown to him was a great crime that could not be accepted, even if two Sundays come together. Whereas, he was not already expecting mercy from anyone, but he would not say no to justice. On the other hand, to demand justice about him was a disaster at the same level as the apocalypse breaking. Here under these circumstances, people were competing with each other to cling on his throat and leave him breathless. Besides, while doing this race, there were becoming ones who begin quarrelling of "I'll swoop on him the most." Those who remained a little behind were trying to overwhelm more to close the gap, claiming that their rights were infringed. It was as if they had given people a drug in collectively, everyone had lost consciousness. Or they seemed to be enchanted. Or there was a situation on people as if a chip had been inserted in everybody's brain and they had been being controlled from a single point. They all were speaking the same thing, showing the same attitude and never thinking. When he met people, it was as though the one who spoke wasn't person standing opposite. The person standing opposite was moving his mouth, and the person standing over the chip control was speaking, too. In this way, all people were saying the same thing without thinking at all. Then he remembered the mankurt legend of the Kyrgyzs. There was no need to dress a wet camel skin on people's heads in order to make them mankurt. In normal life, he realized that it is not difficult to convert people into a mankurt. The crux of the issue was the press. The press was both drug, both spell and the chip. Earthlings could easily be controlled over the media. So that, they would almost make him believe that he was a fierce criminal. He was checking his own life again and again, but he did not come across any crime.
Sometimes, he was feeling like he had committed all the crimes of the world. He had committed all the murders, he had done all the thefts, he had invented the drugs, he had started the Second World War and even he had also burned Rome. But no, he had not committed so minor offenses. He had committed a more serious crime than all but he could not know what he did.
So what had he done to deserve all this stuff? What harm had he done to whom so far? He would never think to do malice to people, he was someone who disapprove of even thinking ill of people and blame himself for it. Actually he was a bit too good person for this world. Probably this was his whole crime. The goodness he carried in, had made him lonely in this world where evils always prevailed. If he was a bad person; to the extent of certainty of axioms in mathematics, he knew that he would never be in this situation and also he would be crowned by humanity. "A lie can travel halfway around the world while the truth is still putting on its shoes" was said in the British proverb. In the same way, the goodness was also weak and helpless in the face of evil. He had not been able to cope with the evil, left all alone with the favor in his heart.
He had felt so lonely that he saw himself in an ocean. An utterly dark night, the weather is very cold, there is a deafening storm, the waves are trying to swallow him. Also from other side, he is under attack of the sharks and the other monsters. He is looking for a direction to escape and get rid of. But he can not find any way out. From all sides of him, the ocean is extending to infinity. Here he was in such an environment. Everything that exists was in alliance against him. He was not giving up in spite of these and was trying to swim. He was overcoming the darkness that was trying to draw him in, breathing by spliting the waves.
Sometimes he saw himself rolling in outer space. Where there is intense colorlessness with no light. He is looking for a place to step on but getting more scattered with his every move. The spooky sounds coming from all sides, are creating an apocalyptic symphony. Nevertheless, he was trying to collect all his energy and didn't stop looking for a safe footing. He didn't know what the best depicted this situation but he denominated that 'terrific loneliness'.
He had previously experienced loneliness, too. But unlike now, what he experienced was 'pleasant loneliness'. He already liked being alone. He used to talk to books, chat with the rain. He would live alone. He did not like crowded and noisy environments. Essentially, he did not like people. He wouldn't much prefer to be an interlocutor with people except for daily works and basic requirements. He had chosen to be away from people, close to books. Some would find his that choice boring, but he used to find in this way that the tranquility and peace. There were already not many people around him to talk to. He liked to think rather than talk. After taking care of his daily jobs, there was nothing like sitting by the window and reading a book while sipping tea. In addition to all, the times when the sound of the rain accompanied this scene, the picture of happiness would come out exactly. Yes, if they asked him to paint the picture of happiness, probably he couldn't have thought of anything else; rain, books and tea... The pleasant sounds arised by the soft touch of the raindrops to the glass were giving him calmness. When the rain has increased its intensity, the sounds were becoming also enthusiastic. Then it was calming down again and slowly giving its place to silence. What he listened to was the usual rain symphony. In fact, this process was also the general attitude of nature. The seas would also be calm at sunrise. It would raise its excitement with the wind. Finally, it would return to the point it started. Everything was like an orchestra that started with the soft touchs to the instruments, reached climax with the rising enthusiasm of the maestro and finally ended with the applause of the listeners. Already weren't the artists also trying to imitate the Creator's works from their own low curtains?1
As a result, natural symphonies used to make him feel better. Listening to his own inner voice in the middle of the silence was also relevant to that. Getting involved in crowds could make a person forget himself/herself. Souls could be lost in the tumult of the world. Sometimes a human should have been alone with herself/himself. Thus, the human soul and body would not live like two strangers. People who cannot discover this secret would be carried away by the commotion of life by remaining strangers to their own hearts and souls. This hustle and bustle would arrive to such a level that they would not even have time to stop and think. They would only bustle. Every day, every minute, without thinking, not knowing where to arrive, unaware of what they wanted, without ceasing they would just be in a rush.
Sometimes he did not use to sleep at night. He would prefer to take advantage of the silence of the night if he had no job after a day. The nights would offer him the tranquility he wanted. Sometimes he used to read three or five lines from his book, and sometimes he used to come to the edge of the window and watch outside. While watching the deserted streets, he would think that the city turns into a large cemetery at night. While the earthlings made noise with all their power during the day, they would give the city an abandoned image at night. He would think he was left alone in the whole city, if there were no sporadic cars passing through the street. On occasion, he would turn off the light and sit like that. The darkness used to make him away from matter, make his soul stronger. Rarely would he listen to an old music. The song that played in a low tone would help him get lost in memories. Occasionally he used to go out and walk outside. He liked to walk on the sidewalks where nobody was. In the meantime, he would read the poem "Sidewalks" as far as he could remember.
He had many poems in his memory. He enjoyed reading and writing poetry. His interest in poetry was coming from his childhood until today. So much so that he had not forgotten even the poem that he learned in elementary school, that started with the verse "The air is clear this morning, the air is like crystal this morning" and that told the idea that people perceive their environment according to their feelings. During his days at work, he used to spend his spare times at his workplace by reading poems. Most nights, he would fall asleep reading poems in his mind.
He was a young person in love with the sea. His love for the undulating blue had always pushed him to live in coastal cities. Whenever he wanted to be away from walls and concretes, his steps slowly carried him to the beach. While watching the bluenesses extending to the horizon by the sea, inhaling the breeze that caresses his face would give him a deep peace. The scent of the waves would take him off his skin. The sounds of waves that sounded like a lullaby would also rest his soul. Sometimes he used to call the sea "my blues" and have a friendly chat with it.
Betweentimes, he would give place to the sea in his dreams. Yes, the sea and rain would be in all good things. He used to dream of a place away from the crowds, surrounded by nature, where nobody was present. There would be a modest house on a high hill. The front of the house was not closed, despite the spreading trees to the right and left, and was close to the sea. It was possible to watch the sea within walking distance from the veranda of the house. One-third of the view from opposite horizons to the garden of the house was covered by the sea, and the rest by meadows and sparsely wooded areas. There was situated an earth road leading from the garden of the house to the sea. There were forested areas on the back side of the house. He would occasionally walk with the beloved to the side of the sea. They would return after a short trip accompanied by the sounds of waves and seagulls. In the evening, on the porch of the house, he would sip his tea as he inhaled the scent of the soil that spread as the rain fell on the ground. They used to watch far places with the beloved without talking. Every once in a while, they would look at each other, smile slightly and then continue to watch the opposite view. Three or five raindrops heading inwards by the effect of the wind would touch their faces. They would continue to watch the rain as if nothing had happened. Here this was his ideal dream of 'seeing the rains', which he dreamt in the triangle of sea, rain and beloved.
He was a calm-looking person but a lot of things were hidden in his depths. A friend had said to him, "If I were to write a poem that tells about you, I would give it name silent scream". His friends often said he was a unique personality. Although he was a litterateur, he was interested in many fields. Mathematics was primary of these. Although it seemed opposite, it was a normal situation for him. Because this style of field differences had emerged in the last century. No field would be seen as opposed of each other before. Omar Khayyam; was both a mathematician and an astronomer and a poet that wrote quatrains. Lewis Carrol; was a writer, photographer and mathematician. Likewise Leonardo da Vinci; was a painter, mathematician and writer. Avicenna; had written books on medicine, mathematics and law. There were hundreds of examples like these.
He had a simple life and would prefer the plain state of all things. So much so that, he didn't use to like the various fruity kinds of even ice cream. He liked it plain and with cocoa, like it was common in his childhood. Usually he enjoyed the works that make the mind functional. He had an interest in puzzle solving since time immemorial. He also loved playing chess. Sometimes he would be engrossed in playing chess on the screen for hours. Some time or other, he had had a passion for the computer games. Among these, he would always preferred strategy games. He did not use to watch TV. He did not know if it had a scientific basis, but he believed that watching TV made the human mind stagnate.
Here he was living composedly like that. He had been accustomed to loneliness any longer, had even loved it. But this the event 'terrific lonely' was a bit different. He had not wanted that. It was a choice not to have anyone with him while living a normal life, but to have no one with him when he was wronged was a devastation. Maybe everything was hidden in the difference between being one and being alone.
In short, he had lived the reality of the word "Never fall down in this world, otherwise everyone hits a kick" to the bone...
It had darkened. One evening he was sitting on the balcony of his house. A refreshing light wind was blowing. In this season of the year, temperatures would decrease a few degrees and those sweltering warmths would allow some breathing any longer. Today the weather was cooler and better. Inhaling the wind was giving a feeling of relaxation. He poured his tea gently and was lost in thoughts.
Were the things he lived through real or they all dreams? He was trying to make sense of what happened to him. Everything was much more difficult at first. Later he had started to be able to handle the situation a little. In fact, this was called getting used to. As for nowadays everything seemed like a dream. It was as if they were not real and were far away. Actually this subject was a bit complicated. In the early days, he thought more that he was dreaming while he was in the events. As he got used to it later on, he had got closer to the real world. But now he was thinking of the opposite. Now, he was seeing the days that he thought they were dreams while living in them, as a dream because they were away. He noticed that he has not yet decided on this topic. Then he took a few sips of his tea. He felt the need to take a deep breath. He was having difficulty in accepting what happened. He had repeatedly tried to comfort himself, saying "These can't be true." He looked at distant lights for a short time and kept thinking by bowing his head slightly forward. The day everything started was passing through his mind...
That day he had woken up to an ordinary day again. He had designed a program in his mind, unaware of what was going to happen to him. Who would have already thought such non-normal things? Yes, in a normal world, they would have even crossed nobody's mind. Afterwards, he was going to sing the song "Impossible things happened to me" a lot. After having his breakfast he had read some book and gone out to do a few his jobs. The book he has read and the world he lived, seemed like to belong to different universes. The book named Philosophy of Mathematics that he was reading was either too far from the real world or the world could not make the necessary breakthrough and had remained far from reality. Both probabilities did not lead to a change in his condition. The truth is, in this world, no one would care about these types of endeavors. The world he was in was commonly hostile to books, thoughts, and even the mind that made human being human. Mathematics for what and whom, philosophy for what and whom? Sometimes he was feeling as if he belonged to another planet and came here by mistake. I wonder if he had been so detached from the world. Why was he interested in such things? Sometimes he was also blaming himself in this subject. Would it be better for him to be interested in simpler jobs? Here was such a person. Occasionally he would mingle with the crowds, but wander among them like a stranger. Again that day, he had walked around with a lot of thoughts in his head, first stopped by the barber, then gone shopping and returned home. It was mid-afternoon. He was planning to take a shower and then cook. Just then, his phone started ringing. That call was going to change his whole life. He was being unable to anticipate what would happen. It was going to either turn everything upside down or put it in order. He did not know which one would happen, but he knew one thing. And that thing he knew was that the incoming call was the beginning of a new life.
The Thought Traveler ⇉ Publitory