sf1.jpg
5_edited_edited.png

It was midnight when he left Lambo's tavern. He had only three liras and twenty-five cents in his pocket. He had the bill accounted down in the till book again. "Monsieur Lambo is a good fella," he thought. He was walking slowly towards Taksim from İstiklal Street. There was a chilling cold that made one shiver. He lifted the collar of his overcoat. He lit a cigarette. A story started to spin in his head. However, he could not decide how it should begin. He would tell his own story for the first time. There was a subtle indecision and a palpable excitement inside him. How would he start? 

"I am Sait Faik Abasıyanık. I chose both my surname and my name myself. My real name, that is, the name given to me at my birth is Mehmet Sait. After the death of my father, I put the name of my father Faik in my name. Once the surname law was passed, I also preferred that my family's surname should be Abasıyanık instead of Abasıgiller. This was the only gift I gave to all my relatives with whom I have always been distant except for my mother. " 

He didn't like it. According to him, a story should not begin like this. Meanwhile, he had already reached Taksim Square. He turned his head towards Sıraselviler Street. He saw people entering and exiting the new venue that was opened instead of the Maksim Casino, which was temporarily closed. He watched them for a while. In fact, if he had money in his pocket, he could sit on one of the tables himself. A beer wouldn’t be a bad idea right now… Elegant ladies in stylish clothes were getting in or out of the cars that gentlemen opened their doors to. Sait Faik's eyes caught the flower girl. How beautiful she looked with a basket of flowers in her hand. He wanted to write something about the harmony of her sloppy clothes. Then he suddenly gave up.