A Lost Son Returns

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The lost son Turan in the audience of Başıl & Kübilay Karamanoğlu

 

A LOST SON RETURNS

 

“A Tartışma in Helena?” Turan muttered, looking up to the sky “ By Kashgar, I haven’t heard that word in ages.” He marched forward through Helena, observing a couple of guards chatting near the courthouse. “Arkadaş, have you seen my people pass through this stone yurt?” 

 

“Stone yurt? The feck he on ‘bout?” the Guard scratched his head, staring in confusion at the young Turan. He looked around awkwardly, before simply walking away: that ordeal wasn’t worth anymore of his time. He went to the tavern across the courthouse in the hopes of finding people. There he found no living soul, but the remnants of Hookah ash & emptied mugs. Had he heard correctly, about this Tartışma? Or was he merely enchanted by the temptation of wishful thinking, wishing for him to be reunited by his people again.

 

Following a trail of rumors and hearsay, Turan found himself in the arid Korvassa. squinting at a map that a kind traveler had given him. The blowing sands obscured his vision, but it didn’t really matter as he couldn’t read the map anyway. His faithful horse had long since perished, and Turan’s provisions were running low. As he munched on a stale loaf of bread, he glimpsed a narrow stone road, covered with sand. Hope returned to his heart as he forged his way to it, finally having firm ground below his feet once more. He trudged along the length of the road, finally arriving outside the gates of Al-Faiz.

 

“Merhaba! I’m looking for the Karamans, my kardeşler.” he called to the seemingly empty gates, coughing as the sands washed over him. Before long, a voice responded “Kardes! We’re inside, come join us!” Turan made his way through the now opened gates, glancing around at the sandstone walls and merchant shops of the square. A look of disdain crossed his face, how could his brothers have chosen this place to live? Cramped in sand and stone, there was nowhere to ride horses freely. Nowhere to roam with nothing but your brothers and the clothes on your back. This was truly the definition of a Stone Yurt: a self-entrapment upon which the meek hide within.

 He was suddenly accosted by his brother Kübilay, who quickly wrapped him up into an embrace “You’ve returned,  kardeş!” he exclaimed “Back to your people once again..” Turan’s eyes grew teary: “I’ve returned” he replied evenly, returning the embrace “I heard of the Tartışma in the stone yurt of Helena. I’ve been alone for so long, but I couldn’t stay away from my kardeşler. By Kashgar, we are reunited!.” He stepped back, a scornful look on his face once more. “Nevertheless, how can our people thrive like this? In the south, without our  horses?” A voice replied from the walls, it was his kardeş Bayezid: “We made a deal with the Sheikh, to manage their stables and trade our horses. It will bring us prosperity and wealth while we reunite the rest of the tribe.” Turan looked thoughtful, although he still seemed skeptical “I suppose that’s a start…but there’s still much work to be done.”

 

[Draeris 3124]

“Kardeş, only Kashgar can fathom the happiness I feel about our reunion.” Başıl stated, passing him his satchel of water as the warm breeze sneaked past the curtains of their roof terrace “I ask Kashgar for forgiveness if our state has disappointed you. But trust me, we will live like our great ancestor Timur once again!”.

[ThatDutchFellow 1147]

Would look at his returned brother before saying "Thank Kashgar for another has returned"