The sound summoned the scent, the scent summoned the colour. Suddenly, the darkness gave way to a bright and warm sun. All his memories were revived. His eyes were filled with hope, not tears; again… After months, Ruhi Su, apart from the screams and pains leaking from the torture chambers; he heard her voice like two luminous words of hope… His dry lips parted with his loud voice: Sıdıka!
If he could hear Sidika, then Sidika could hear him. Just as soon as he heard Sıdıka's voice, spring came to Ruhi's world and everything found its own colour; It could have been the same for Sıdıka. As much as he needed Sidika's voice, Sidika could also need his voice. His door of his heart was opened. Words and melodies found their place. The master left without reckoning but confidently what his heart had made him say:
“They call it a special place, I’m stuck in the dungeon
I stay, I stay, friends are on the side
both hands in red blood
I die, I die, sister, you’re on my mind…”
His loud voice was radiating into the prison of shame of human history breaking through the thick walls as hope and light. Ruhi's bass baritone voice reached first to Sıdıka and then to all the prisoners...
In the snowy November 1952, when Ankara was freezing, the police had come to take Ruhi Su into custody for being a member of the Communist Party. Ruhi Su had managed to evade the police, but he knew that he had to reach Sıdıka immediately and warn her. He had to act fast. He did so, but the patrol teams had already arrived at Sıdıka's house. That was the last time he had seen her; While she was taken into the patrol car…
He immediately went to the “Ankara Opera”, the institution where he worked. He had to take a few items from his locker there and save Sıdıka. While Ruhi Su was trying to reach her loved one with his bright heart, an artist friend who worked at the same institution reported her with his dark heart. When he came out, the police had already made their preparations. They surrounded him and arrested him too. Ruhi Su was not thinking neither about his shoes that socked water up nor his fingers that had turned purple from the cold, or not the villainy of his friend, or the knife he stabbed while shaking his hand. He was only thinking of Sıdıka. They first brought him to Ankara First Police Station.