Nisantasi, a cosmopolitan neighbourhood in Istanbul.
A March morning with a low, dark sky, not yet dissolved into rain.
Tomas was runing full speed. He was late for school. He stopped when he reached the rusty lamppost at the end of the street. He dropped his school bag onto the pavement, touched the metal pillar with his left hand, circled it three times, picked up the mud-smudged school bag once again and galloped off faster than before.
Tomas was convinced that touching the lamppost and turning around it three times every morning on his way to school would bring him luck, along with the enchanting, radiant day ... even the trees would yield fruit for him to eat during break.
The green rusty lamppost was so high it reached past the moon. It stood next to a huge Mobile Oil billboard: Pegasus, the winged horse, sprung from Medusa's body. And, exactly there, the cobblestone street emptied into an exuberantly noisy, bustling road choked with taxis, handcarts, bicycles, trams, carriages, errand boys, vendors, men, women and children. Taxis honked incessantly, an orgy of blaring horns - the clamour of unbounded energy that upholds every big city.

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Last modified on September 28, 2011  | © Telegram 2005