I am Ibrahim Nawaz Malik and i am writing this story as i sit in our new house by the lamp at 6 am. Reading tells me that writing remains and writing conveys how much i could’ve read. It was a month ago , i took my holidays from my university in North Cyprus having completed my course work and submitted by thesis. I am a bit of an overthinking individual and oddly complicate things. I am not boring yet very reserved unless i am using you which i rarely do as i have sleepless nights and day nightmares. The name of this story generates from my infatuation with the works of a famous architect Mimar Sinan from the 16th century Istanbul. Having reached Istanbul after an hour flight , i took a 2 hour bus to the center of the city where my apartment was located. I am not proud to say that to stay at this place is by far the worst choice of all my travels over the years. Why, because it was literally impossible to find. No sign boards. No mentions of the location etc etc. Still yet, the room was tidy enough to give them a 10/10 review though. I hardly deserve to be in the shoes i am today , so why give a 9? By the Memorial winds of Sokullu ; first let me elaborate on the Sokullu. It’s a mosque from the 16th century Constantinople called Sokullu Mehmet Pasa Cami , designed by Mimar Sinan ( may the Raheem Allah have mercy on him- and on us- and on me).
As the day passed walking around the places closed to my flat , went to the Blue Mosque to pray , sat down in a couple of places to eat and drink and then came back at around 10. Tired as i was , did not need much time to dose off. The next day started with so much energy but with very less planning . I took a shower, trimmed my beard. and here i was dressed up looking at myself in the mirror only to divise a plan for the day afterwards. So i looked up at my phone and thought of my friends who might be in Istanbul. First i texted my pakistani friend but he had exams so on to others , the two Turks who happen to live there. One lived on the other side of Istanbul , and by other side i mean 3 hours of bus ride. On to my last hope, Hurray , set up a meeting and off i go exploring the city. The problem with Istanbul is no one speaks good english and it gets very hard to get to one place from the other when you go the first time , even if you use GPS apps , still its a nuisance. The advise i always have for people who would want to visit Istanbul is keep your mind and soul at ease and be relaxed and go with the flow. So the day went like meeting my friend, talked of all our Aiesec memoirs in Egypt and then bade our farewells at around 11:30 , that is when the last tram leaves. Getting back was farely easy as my friend told me the exact route back and i was there in no time. Bought a bottle of water and a big packet of chips as i walked back after getting off the tram. Did i mention the owner of the flat. Well, his name was Anar and he was living in Istanbul for the last 15 years having graduated from there and working full time in a software field. He was originally from Azerbaijan and well he now was an official citizen of Turkey. So well i had a long talk with him during my time there and he helped me with whatever i needed happily. During my stay in this apartment i could see the Sokullu Mehmet Pasa Cami from my window and imagined all these centuries pass by. Off all the stories told, of all the future plans, of all that went in those days. It was quite easy to capture the image as the streets and houses are in the same state as they were back then five hundred years. The mosque holds a graveyard right beside it from those years and at night the whole area goes back five centuries with no card and no lights for that aura. My 3 days in Istanbul have been quite different to a week i stayed before back in 2015. Back then i was total foreigner with everything being new and exciting. This time i felt like a local as ive been staying in North Cyprus for over a year and know turkish customs and a bit og Turkish. But still yet, Istanbul never ceases to amaze you. A city that can easily forget you. A city where people forget and move on. A city where the sound of Adhaan reminds her that it bears a soul in all that bricks. Where people under those modern cloaks have a broken heart and ruptured soul. If you ever go to Istanbul , Give it my regards as the flat by the view of Mimar Sinan’s mosque was my good host.