The drowsy sun was slowly sinking in the cold blue ocean of Adana, coloring the dreamy clouds with a divine mixture of pink, purple, and orange. The calm waves shyly performed their ceremonial dance with the fragranced breeze, and lovers were kissing on the wet sand of the city where love could get you in trouble.
She was there alone, watching the marvel of sunset. The gentle wind was caressing her long wavy chocolate hair, and the festival of colors in front of her widened her eyeballs with astonishment, to further embellish those dreamy hazel eyes made of pure honey and darkened with the fatal magic of Arabic Kohl. The reflection of the scintillating rays gave her vanilla skin a glamorous glow. The lit cigarette dancing between her fingers, stained with pink lipstick, was delighted by the taste of two plump lips, whereas the smoke mingled with the pleasing aroma of this eighteen-year-old, who legally inherited the captivating charm of gypsies… Whoever said that gentlemen prefer blonds has not laid eyes on this brunette.
This dazzling riddle, this vast blue ocean of secrets and contradictions bears a resemblance to her soul… She is a surprising combination of innocence and seduction… A fine line between virtue and rebellion… A fusion of grudge and empathy… In her nostalgic eyes, there was hope and confusion… There was fear and there were big dreams… She misses her terribly… She wonders what life would have been if she were here… If she never left…
*****
The chromatic sky was slowly washing the ethereal paint off the black celestial gown, which the bashful stars ornamented with a demure glister. Her backless yellow dress failed to warm her shivering body, just as this summer night failed to hold the warmth of the vanished sun. It was time to go home…
She walked in the dark streets of the Mediterranean city, murmuring the lyrics of a Fleetwood Mac song: “To the gypsy that remains. Her face says freedom, with a little fear. I have no fear. I have only love!”
She passed by a bunch of neighbor boys whistling as she walked into her neighborhood. They were harmless… Uneducated enough to treat women properly and behave like gentlemen, but harmless… Men in this city feel entitled to chase women. Convincing them that sexual harassment is a violation of human rights would not be an easy task. They would say: “No way!… Women love it when we compliment their bodies. They just like to play hard to get. Beauty deserves to be praised!” …
She escaped her feminist hallucinations as she walked into the small garden. She grabbed a grapefruit from the tree she planted when she was seven years old. They are both fertile now.
An appetizing smell of roasted fish penetrated her nose as she opened the tin door that holds a blue evil eye hanging.
“Why didn’t you stay longer outside? It is only ten o’clock, Deniz!” said Mama Vadoma with a sarcastic blameful tone.
“You know how I never get enough of looking at the ocean and you always rush me home when we go together!” responded Deniz with a failed trial to sound sorry.
“Deniz, I am terrified of the thought of losing you! Don’t you realize how dangerous it is for young girls to walk in the streets alone at night? Staring at a ripe strawberry makes you want to eat it!” said Mama Vadoma while putting the plates on the rectangular wood table.
“Nobody will eat me unless I want to be eaten. I always keep telling you not to worry. You were the one to say that our destinies are written in the stars, so why fear the unknown if it was inevitable? Besides, I promise that nothing bad will happen to me.”
They sat at the table and began eating. Mama Vadoma spoke with a sad tone:
“I do not blame you for being attached to the ocean. You were born in it and your mom named you after it.”
Deniz remained silent, took one bite of her tomato salad, and said with a wistful tone: “I wish she were still alive!”
“There are things in life we cannot control… Sadly!” said Mama Vadoma.
After they finished eating, they sat on the terrace to drink wine, and both lightened a cigarette. Deniz started smoking when she was fifteen, and Mama Vadoma never tried to stop her. How can she stop her when she grew up inhaling the fog of cigarettes? Besides, most women and teenagers smoke in Adana. It is a stolen pleasure to escape the pain of being a woman in a man’s world.
This was one of the nights when she felt vulnerable, when she surrenders to her emotions, incapable of wearing the mask of strength.
Bittersweet memories invaded her as she drank the fourth glass. She spoke to Mama Vadoma who was listening to a horoscope reading on the radio:
“Thank you for not giving up on me. Not all people have the good heart it takes to raise their friend’s daughter and bear her troubles and stubbornness for eighteen years. I’m sorry I kept you from enjoying your life and forced you to be a mom at a young age… I’m terribly sorry!” She broke into tears.
Mama Vadoma turned off the radio and gave Deniz, who was sobbing uncontrollably, a long warm hug: “Never thank me for taking care of you again! It is my duty and my purpose in life. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Since the day you were born, you have brought me blessings and prosperity… You are my lucky charm!”
Deniz replied with slight hesitation: “We don’t talk about her much… My mom… We barely mention her as if she was never here.”
Mama Vadoma said: “. I don’t initiate talking about the past because I don’t want to revive the pain for you. I want you to enjoy these years of your life because you will never be able to relive them again. Life is too short. I want you to discover yourself and look for your purpose.”
Deniz, who was getting progressively drunker, replied sarcastically: “How can I discover myself when I never met those who brought me to life? Please tell me about the day I was born, Mama Vadoma.”
“Again? Alright! It was a day where agony and joy were battling in my heart. A day where I lost a friend and gained a daughter. We were headed from Romania to Adana on a ship, clueless and scared of the unknown. The weather was stormy as if the skies were mourning her departure. I had a strong feeling that something awful was about to happen. She was watching the sea when her water broke. I panicked as there was no qualified person on the ship to help her deliver the baby. So, I helped her deliver, and after a long painful labor, she held you in her arms and smiled. When she took a nap to rest, she never woke up…
The moment you took your very first breaths, Deniz, the angry storms stopped, and the atmosphere felt peaceful and serene.”
Deniz continued sobbing and said angrily: “Why did my dad leave me? Why didn’t he bother coming back to take care of me?
Mama Vadoma carried on: “Your dad was a good man, Deniz. He simply didn’t know that your mom was pregnant. If he knew, I’m sure he would never have left. Our Romanian gypsy tribe could not forgive her for getting pregnant, especially since the father was an outsider to the tribe. They forced her to leave, and I accompanied her because I could not bear living without my only friend. Your father was a handsome Romanian soldier whom she met in the wine-making festival which took place every year. They fell in love. But he never asked her to marry him. He left for Romania the night she knew she was pregnant. She never got the chance to tell him. She never heard from him again… This is the misfortune of being a gypsy woman, men assume you only seek pleasure since you’re very good at it…”
She continued: “Your mom was a proud woman. She decided to leave everything behind and build a new life for you. We made the decision to move to Adana because we heard that gypsies are not mistreated by the people of this town. We kissed Romania goodbye as we went on board. Then, abruptly, her water broke before the expected delivery date. She died a few hours after giving birth to you. The echo of her last words still visits me in my dreams: “I’m going to name her Deniz. It means the ocean in Turkish. This way she won’t get bullied at school for having a gypsy name…” and it was goodbye!
They finished the bottle in silence, heavy-hearted but grateful to have each other.
Deniz dreamed of the ocean, of what could have been, of love, and destiny…
****
A sluggish sun rose in the penumbral sky. The cheerful birds were chanting merrily, rhyming with the perky chickens and the agitated waves. Sunrise is like a sunset, except with a promise for a fresh start and better luck. Deniz woke up to the smell of coffee and “Mnemen”; a Turkish omelet with tomato and green peppers. She went right to the table and devoured the plate. She then joined Mama Vadoma, who was watching her favorite Turkish show in the living room.
“You are up so early today!” said Mama Vadoma
“I am surprisingly in a good mood this morning. I want to live as you advised me yesterday. We only live once, right!”
Mama Vadoma said: “Well, that’s not entirely true! We live several lives in which we experience different circumstances and lessons to allow our soul’s growth. When I was a teenager, our tribe’s fortune-teller informed me that I was a man named Thomas in the Georgian era in my past life. I was rich and powerful which made me very narcissistic. In this lifetime, I am supposed to be of service to others. I am supposed to learn to be humble and stay in the shadows to allow others to shine. That’s why I have no regrets about dedicating my youth to take of you, Deniz. It’s what I came here to do.”
Deniz was stupefied by this exciting talk. She was always intrigued by the hidden realms of the occult world. She said: “What about me, Mama Vadoma? How can I know my purpose in life?”
“To discover it on your own, you’d have to pray to Saint Sara. She will give you the answer.”
“Why not pray to God? Didn’t he create Saint Sara?”
Saint Sara is the patron saint of Romanians and is worshipped by all gypsies of the world. She is their unifying symbol of power, love, and glory.
Mama Vadoma replied: “Yes, God is the most powerful of all. But Saint Sara is our mediator. You should never disrespect her or underestimate her miracles and blessings.”
Unconvinced, Deniz replied: “Okay!”
Although very stubborn, Deniz often agrees with people to avoid useless arguments.
Mama Vadoma said: “Would you please bring me some lavender incense when you go out?”
“Sure, Mama!”
Deniz put a kiss on Mama Vadoma’s cheek and went out. On her way to the incense shop, she passed by a newly opened musical instruments store. The music coming from the store sounded so enthrallingly dulcet to her ear. She heard this melody before, but she could not remember when or where. She walked closer to the music source and saw old dusty guitars, violins, cellos, harps, saxophones, and tambourines. She was flabbergasted by the beauty of this place.
Someone inside caught her eye, a gentleman playing the piano. He seemed disconnected from his surroundings as if he was reverent in secret prayers. The melodies he created with his skilled fingers left her agape, as did his intense and bewildering energy. She wanted to see his eyes, but he was wearing sunglasses as if it was not already dark enough inside this store of wonders. He had fuzzy brown hair, a full beard, and a captivating allure. For a moment, she forgot who she was. She forgot about the ocean and the lavender incense. She was carried into another dimension, a metaphysical dimension. The heavenly melody emanating from the wooden console piano did not help bring her back to Earth.
He stopped playing as if he suddenly felt her presence, and she walked away as fast as she could. She ran from love, panic-stricken and paralyzed. She returned home led by her subconscious mind, as her consciousness refused to leave that wonderous store where an unfathomable man was playing an empyrean melody.
“Where is the incense, Deniz? I need to exorcise the house and clear it from negative energy,” said Mama Vadoma
“Oh! The incense! I am sorry. It completely slipped my mind.”
“Why is your head in the clouds?”
“A strange thing happened. I saw a man, a spellbinding man. He played a narcotizing melody. I am not sure I can translate what I felt into spoken words. It was as if clocks had stopped counting time. My senses felt drugged for a while. It felt like a deja vu, a relived scene from a past life.”
“You have to be careful with opening your heart to strangers, Deniz! Only open your heart when you know the person enough and when you make sure they’re going to appreciate the beautiful feelings you have to offer.”
“Don’t worry about me, Mama! I didn’t fall in love or whatever. I just never saw a man like him before. I feel like I know him from somewhere. He has this familiar presence that I can’t explain. I don’t know how to explain…”
She spent the rest of the day daydreaming about the mysterious man who took her to another world with a heavenly melody. She wondered why falling in love happens so easily, without official permission from the heart or consent to the torture awaiting…
****
The following morning, she wore her red sundress. She darkened her wide hazel eyes with the Arabic Kohl that she received as a present from her Syrian friend, and she put on her favorite perfume, Pure XS. She always felt her best when she wore this fragrance; invincible, yet soft like a purple beach rose.
She was determined to steal his heart. She is a gypsy, an inheritably gifted thief…
As she came closer to the store, she had butterflies in her stomach, and her heart was beating fast. She could not breathe well nor see what was in front of her. How can this man have this much impact on her when she only saw him once? When she does not know his story, not even his name.
She walked inside the store and saw a woman sitting in his chair. She was pretty and had short blond hair. She had a sophisticated style and an elegant attitude. She smiled at Deniz who was confused and disappointed.
“Welcome! Are you looking to buy used instruments? Well, not used, I like the word “vintage” better.”
Deniz replied nervously: “Yes, I want to see the guitars you have, please.”
He was not there. Was he an angel that only existed in her mind? Who is this blond woman who invaded their story when they have barely written their first words?
She dragged her disappointment home, overwhelmed with a million emotions. She wanted to see him. She wanted to unravel his eyes and read his deepest secrets… But all she unraveled was this new blond creature that came out of nowhere.
****
The next morning, she went to the instruments store again hoping for a glance at him. She asked Mama Vadoma for money so she could buy a guitar for real as an attempt to hide her intentions.
He was playing the piano while the blond lady from the previous day was sitting next to him.
“It’s you again! Welcome back! Have you decided on which guitar to take?”
Deniz paid the woman while peeking at him. He did not bother to look at her back. He was immersed in his melodies, utterly unaware of her existence. She saw red…
She is not used to being ignored, not by men. She walked out of the store bitter and downhearted. It is her third failed trial to get his attention. How did he become her whole world while he never even laid eyes on her? He just stood there, unbothered.
Her feet unconsciously led her to the ocean. She sat on the sand and watched the waves flirting with each other. She lightened a cigarette and thought about this unwelcomed heartache that took her by surprise. Does his heart belong to another woman? Is it the blond lady? Of course, It’s the blond lady! Why else is he so unaffected by her magical gypsy charm?
She stayed there for hours, crying, and cursing the bloody lavender incense that go her in this trouble.
****
“Where were you? I looked for you everywhere!” yelled Mama Vadoma
” I just needed some air!” said Deniz.
“Why are you so pale? What is wrong with you?”
“I went to the musical instruments store this morning to see him again.”
“To see who again?” said Mama Vadoma
“The pianist I told you about the other day, Mama.”
“And?”
“He didn’t even look at me. I spent hours trying to look pretty. He didn’t look at me, not once. He was with some woman.”
“Deniz, darling, you’re too young for heartache!”
“I am not a masochist, Mama. This all happened out of my control. I cannot stop thinking about his grounded presence and captivating charm. I swallowed my pride to see him, to look into his eyes, to enter his world because he became my whole world.”
“This is not love, Deniz. I see a little girl who lived her whole life deprived of a father figure hanging onto the first man she considers attractive.”
“Maybe you’re right! Maybe all this will go away before I know it. But I do not accept defeat. This feels like defeat, Mama. I need to prove to myself that I can get any man I want. Any man!”
“Be careful of what you’re saying, Deniz. That’s your ego talking. And boy you have a big one!”
“Yes, I do! That’s why I’m going to win this battle.”
“The only battle I see is the one in your head. Summer is about to end, you will start your first year at the university, and you’ll discover a whole new world. You will meet better men. Don’t waste your energy on this futile encounter.”
“No, mama! I must win. He must fall in love with me. Who the hell does he thinks he is treating me like I’m invisible? I must win, Mama! All I need is a plan.”
Mama Vadoma said: “Maybe what you need is a magic spell.”
“I’m not sure about that, Mama!”
Mama Vadoma carried on talking: “When I was a kid, my grandmother was a powerful witch. Girls visited her from all over Romania to tie down their lovers’ hearts. I learned most of them by heart. From what I know, those rituals are very powerful.”
Deniz’s eyes sparkled with hope. She said: “Would you help me put a spell on him?”
Mama Vadoma smiled and said: “You have to wait for the full moon, fast until sunset, and break your fast with a sip of rosemary tea. Then, you must bathe in rose water and salt. At exactly midnight, you must face the moon and say: “Holy Spirit of Aphrodite, ignite the love in his heart. Holy Spirit of Aphrodite, make me the moon in his eyes.” You must repeat this spell a hundred thirty-one times while looking at the moon.”
Deniz smiled and said: “That seems like a lot of work. But I will do it! I’ll do anything it takes to obtain his heart.”
She waited for the full moon with impatience and exhilaration and performed the rituals as constructed by Mama Vadoma. She woke up the next day, ready to steal his heart. She put on a long purple gypsy dress and some golden earrings belonging to her mom. She wore her favorite perfume and went out on her “mission”.
He was sitting there alone, looking mentally absent. She walked into the store with a pounding heart and said:
“Hello sir, how are you?” said Deniz with a trembling voice.
He remained silent.
“Sir!” She repeated, confused.
“Yes?” He replied coldly without looking at her.
“I want to see the harmonicas you have, please!” Deniz replied nervously.
“Didn’t you just buy a guitar days ago? And now you want a harmonica?” He said sarcastically, still not looking at her.
“Yes, I bought a guitar and now I want a harmonica. Is there something wrong with that?” Replied Deniz angrily.
He replied brusquely: “Loyalty to one instrument, unraveling its secret notes, and mastering its melodies is what real musicians do. Jumping from one to another is a disregard for music and an insult to art. Don’t worry! Not all people are expected to be artists.”
Deniz was trying hard to stop her tears. She was bleeding from the inside. She smiled and replied calmly: “True artists are humble! True artists are kind! And you’re none of that!”
She went home sobbing, having regretted the day she saw his angelic face, the day she fell for the unattainable.
“What’s the matter?” asked Mama Vadoma, worried.
Deniz told her what happened and cried on her shoulders. “I have never been disrespected like this before, Mama. Nobody ever made me feel weak and insignificant. I never want to see him again, ever!”
Mama Vadoma replied while rubbing Deniz’s hair: “Listen, Deniz. When you’re too attached to something, when your happiness is conditioned by something, life will always take it away from you. If you really love this man, wish him well and let him go. If he is destined to be with you, the universe will bring you together, and if it’s not written in the stars, no magical spell will change that. Besides, true love is unconditional. Love him without demanding affection in return. Love him for the sake of love.”
Deniz took a sleeping pill and temporarily escaped her lingering pain…
****
In the morning, she woke up terrified and ran to Mama Vadoma:
“I had the most unusual dream, Mama! I saw myself delivering a beautiful baby girl with my mom’s help. She was holding my hand while I was screaming. When the baby was born, she cut some of my hair and sprayed water on me.”
Mama Vadoma smiled: “This dream must have a message for you. Your mom is trying to tell you something.”
Deniz replied: “Absolutely! It felt so real.”
Mama Vadoma continued: “According to gypsy myths, delivering a girl in a dream predicts the end of afflictions and pain. The gesture of cutting hair might indicate letting go of the past and leaving old patterns behind. Dawn generally refers to new beginnings and water is a symbol of prosperity. Your mom might be asking you to let go of your pain and embrace your future. She is also reassuring you that everything will be fine.”
He crossed her mind, the mysterious man who shook her world. Surprisingly, she was neither angry nor sad. She felt peaceful, content with the fact that he breathes the same air as her, that he is alive, and that he is okay. There is nothing she wanted more than to be in his arms, to inhale his scent, and to look into his eyes, but being deprived of those ecstatic feelings will not stop her from being happy. She must listen to her mom. Her mom knows best.
****
After a few weeks, Deniz felt alive again. She decided to never visit the instruments store because she no longer needed his validation. Whenever he crossed her mind, which happened a lot, she smiles and hopes he is happy. She recalls his beautiful melody and hugs him in her imagination… loving him for the sake of love…
One sunny morning, Deniz was having tea with Mama Vadoma when the mailman left a letter at their door.
“Dear gypsy girl,
I am not sure what to say or where to begin. I am not even sure if writing you this letter is a good idea. But what do I have to lose after I lost you? I hope you remember me, the sad man who never smiles, the man who hurt your feelings when you tried to come closer. When you disappeared, I understood that life is meaningless without smelling your scent, without hearing your soft voice. I never saw your face because I am blind, obviously, but my sister, who manages the store with me, tells me you’re very beautiful. I know don’t look alike. She is obsessed with dying her hair blonde.
Deniz, your aphrodisiac perfume is always present in me, in my heart, in my soul. Your smell was the gateway to unraveling your enchanting personality and bewildering energy. This divine mixture of Vanilla, sandalwood and ambrette seed makes you the queen of contradictions; sweet yet strong, pure yet powerful, stubborn yet tender.
When you were close to me, I could sense your love, your passion… I could sense your eagerness to be in my arms. I could sense that you are different from anyone and anything I’ve ever seen.
Sometimes it occurs to me that you only existed in my mind, my obscure imagination. Your scent lightened my dark world and gave me a reason to live after I lost my sight in a car accident when I was nine and lost with that the will to live, to exist.
Forgive me for being rude to you. I didn’t want you to pity my condition. I can bear anything except being pitied, especially by you.
PS: Meet me tonight at 7 in the Havana café if I’m still in your heart… If you agree to a fresh start.
Signature: A blind rude man who terribly misses your scent.
