Adnan Quotes

Morning. Vast. Imprecision. Fog has covered everything in gray absolute. This has lasted. Doubt looms over the mind. Absence is harder to accept than death.

Love in all its forms is the most important matter that we will ever face, but also the most dangerous, the most unpredictable, the most maddening. But it is also the only salvation I know of

Every time you think of escaping mentally or physically, grab the book that lies inches away from your heart.

There are moments when the past ceases to be a form of the present. Rain and tears look alike.

The day is not made of light, but of will

Memory and time, both immaterial, are rivers with no banks and constantly merging. Both escape our will, though we depend on them. Measured but measured by whom or by what? The one is inside, the other, outside or so it seems, but is that true? Time seems also buried deep in us but where? Memory is right here, in the head, but it can exit, abandon that head, leave it behind, disappear. Memory, a sanctuary of infinite patience.

In the year of the sun was sun eclipse, the sun of piety, knowledge and divinity. The establisher of the path of Tijaniyya, the reviver of the traditions of the chocest of Adnan. The servant of Allah, the Imam of the Maliki law, and affairs are for Allah for he is the possessor. He added that Sufism is a spritual clinic with doctors who have knowledge of attending to ailments of the soul. For a sick patient who requires cure and dosses of medicine from the clinic, there is the need for him to make declaration of his sickness and acceptance of patienthood.

At the same time believers realise that the defects they see in one another are tests from Allah. For this reason they don't call attention to these defects, but compensate for them by acting positively. They carefully avoid the slightest action, facial expression or word that would suggest ridicule.

لو كانت باريس سماً قاتلاً لشربت منه جرعة كبير بكل سرور ولأنهيت حياتي

its not a good idea to argue with ignorant people but sometime ignorance can't be ignored

Hey! I'm talkin' to you, feta bread!

Writing is drawing, drawing is writing. Because it's the same gesture. They're close already.

In the green escape of my palace, over a bridge, under a canopy of opalescent light, through there, between dark branches and their shivering leaves, I'm lost in the scent of yellow roses, arrested by the range's filtering light.

يوجد العيد دائما حيث الشقاء مقيم

Life teach you lessons and those lessons are very painful.

Spring is dangerous, like love. And love survives the lovers.

Dear soul, am I only because I have been?

Kau; Sebuah kota yang hanya dapat kukunjungi di malam-malam seperti ini, Rambutmu lampu-lampu, dan wajahmu adalah lukisan yang akan memaksaku untuk selalu kembali.

It is a sentiment of tremendous truth and simplicity, yet tremendously difficult for the mind to metabolize — we remain material creatures, spiritually sundered by the fact of our borrowed atoms, which we will each return to the universe, to the stardust that made us, despite our best earthly efforts.

... ey her şey bitti diyenler korkunun sofrasında yılgınlık yiyenler. ne kırlarda direnen çiçekler ne kentlerde devleşen öfkeler henüz elveda demediler. bitmedi daha sürüyor o kavga ve sürecek yeryüzü aşkın yüzü oluncaya dek!

Silence is the creation of space, a space that memory needs to use . . . an incubator. We're dealing here with dimensions, stretching our inner muscles, pushing aside any interference. We're dealing with numbers, but not counting. Silence demands the nature of night, even in full day, it demands shadows.

DD/MM/YYYY was not an ordinary day. Early in the morning, before the sunrise, a Baby Girl Fairy was dropped from the Fairy Lands to the Earth. There were songs of joys and rejoices everywhere. Cool breeze was playing and running across the meadows. Dew drops were dancing and floating over the leaves. Birds were swaying and singing in chorus: "Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday (Name), Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday to you.

قلبي يضيق بالخوف من الآتي

نحن البحر. نجزر ونفيض بلا انتظام

Selepas hujan, pelangi pasti ada, karena ini malam, dia berbaris di hatimu.

Jika merindukanmu adalah sebuah kesalahan, maka, aku adalah orang yang gemar melakukan kesalahan.

Puisi ini akan kulipat menjadi pesawat kertas, silakan kau naik, dan kita akan pergi ke bulan.

Sink the ship that carries the load of hate .

Eternity is non evident. There’s this endless rotation of the sun in the skull, the stillness outside, and a storm within. At least a river is always flowing in some part of the country. Winds, always gathering speed, shatter the order of things. We return home, in tears.

The intelligence of the heart bypasses the intellect in the head which works on assumptions and requires a lot of thinking and confusion and makes a person tired and weak. But, the heart intelligence is not only direct and to the point, it also gives you energy, vitality and strength.

My name is Adnan Nassar and I am Palestinian-American,” he said in a rush. “I came to this country from Syria nine years ago and have since then earned American citizenship and am assistant manager of the Pizza Pad on Highway 6.

هل الغرض من النافذة أن تبقيك في الداخل، أو تفتح مداركك نحو الخارج؟

Mencintaimu; serupa mengagumi kunang-kunang; yang mengantongi matahari di belakang ekornya. Hingga, Sepekat apapun sebuah malam, dia akan begitu mudah menemukanmu.

there is no understanding between me and this world they don't understand me and i don't care them.

Morality is violence. An invisible violence at first. Love is a supreme violence, hidden deep in the darkness of our atoms. When a stream flows into a river, it’s love and it’s violence. When a cloud loses itself in the sky, it’s a marriage. When the roots of a tree split open a rock it’s the movement of life. When the sea rises and falls back only to rise again it’s the process of History. When a man and a woman find each other in the silence of the night, it’s the beginning of the end of the tribe’s power, and death itself becomes a challenge to the ascendancy of the group.

نشعر بالنشوة في أكثر المدن رداءة

احذر الكلمات. لأنه من السهل أن تغير معناها وتخلق سوء تفاهم معذباً

قد يكون قول الحقيقة أحياناً أذكى صيغة لإيصال المعلومات المغلوط فيها

هل للذاكرة قوانينها الخاصة فيها؟

لن نكون أبداً كما كنّا

‪Rain is not a seasonal change, it’s a feeling that brings back ‪Memories!

Rinduku kuyup, setiap membaca namamu setelah hujan.

Semakin senyap sebuah malam, dia justru akan menceritakanmu dengan semakin lantang.

Young believes everything, middle-aged suspects everything , old knows everything

desire intensifies on the silver edge of the sea. my friends, don’t wait for me any longer, my heart is in the abundance of the same spring as yours

Sometimes you don’t see the ball coming, It spins right by you.

they tell me there are four seasons but I live in a fifth one which is your space and your time

If you tried to number God's blessings, you could never count them. God is Ever-Forgiving, Most Merciful. (Surat an-Nahl: 18)

Jika perbincangan kita telah usai, maka hadirlah sebuah kekosongan, dialah janji yang dialamatkan pada sepi, janji yang pasti ditepati oleh ampas kopiku, sendiri.

Fakat, hayır: Adnan Targa, kendisi değildi ki; Adnan Targa bir dekandı ve 'statüko'nun her ne pahasına olursa olsun savunmasını yapmak durumundaydı.

Saraylar saltanatlar çöker kan susar birgün zulüm biter. menekşeler de açılır üstümüzde leylaklar da güler. bugünlerden geriye, bir yarına gidenler kalır bir de yarınlar için direnenler...

Sevmem! Bana senin yüzünü göstermeyen karanlıkları... Sevmem! Ellerinden uzak kaldığım anları... Sevmem! Seni uzaklarda duyumsadığım anları... Sevmem yenin olmadığın yerleri! Sevmem yalnızlıkları!

Their women only exert indirect powers over them, powers that seem ineffective, or else are so strong that they, the men, can’t recognize them as such. But a woman who stands up to them and looks them in the eye is a tree to be cut down, and they cut it down. She falls with the sound of dead wood which disappears among the perfidious murmurings of the city, and to the smirking of other women who are satisfied with the male victories.

Culture is a powerful force that influences our perceptions, our mindsets and even our domestic and foreign policies. The rich, messy complexity of 1,400 years of Islamic civilization and 1.6 billion Muslims has been reduced to token stereotypes. We are either avatars of destruction or the good Muslim who helps the national security narrative. But the overwhelming majority of us live in the giant middle—the grey zone—where impressions exist in more colors than just black and white.” *

The only exception was my mother, who unabashedly took up for Adnan, fought with anyone who had anything negative to say about him, never stopped talking about him with Aunty Shamim, and prayed for him with the intensity of a thousand burning suns. I

Remember when we didn't know that colours can mix and form other colours. When we were not introduced to strokes that brushes can form, when light and dark were not necessary for the picture to be completed, and when it was a matter of lines that were not suppose to be connected. When feelings crashed on a white heart unintentionally and when our soul was not held in captive. Remember?

ثمّة أشكال سلبية للسعادة

عدم الاكتمال رذيلة حذقة

دعونا لا نغذي الخيال بأمور تتعلق بالصداقة

Terror is our collective failure. Life is nature's triumph.

Aku sering mengirimu puisi, bukan bunga. Karena bunga akan layu di depanmu. Malu.

Rinduku; di kota-kota suci, dari rahim bunda, Makkah, & Jerussalem. Terakhir di Cirebon, ; sebuah tempat di mana dengan mudah kumenemukanmu, lalu mencintaimu.

Kau tahu “rindu” itu apa? Menurutku; Semacam rasa pahit dalam kopi, dan kesamaran makna dalam puisi.

Di perempatan jalan ini kita berpisah Hanya karena berbeda arah

Yoksa, yüzünü saklayamayınca ellerini mi saklıyordu?

Once upon a time, time was in the hands of the poor. Those who sensibly, reasonably, and firmly held it. Extravagance is only today and tomorrow.

philosophy is a non-knowledge: thought takes pleasure in measuring its borders

Losing makes me feel awful. Losing makes me want to hide under the table to never feel this way again.

Beauty, it's an inner sense, and it makes us happy. It's not complicated, we need it.

It seems to me I write what I see, paint what I am.

Guilty people are feigning to be Good, and In entire they are not

Words melt in reflections; that’s why there’s a uselessness to this night, to my missing the river, to the delaying of love... light is picking up momentum in the vicinity of the oaks that cover this property, this silence.

The only way I can process it is through my faith. That God was not going to let Adnan suffer all this in vain. Why he suffered any of it, why innocents suffer at all, is not a question mere mortals have ever been able to sufficiently answer. It's enough for me to know that all through out history, incredibly good people have suffered terribly, and suffering is not punishment. But much suffering is followed by redemption, sometimes that redemption even coming after the death of great people.

After the plates are removed by the silent and swift waiting staff, General Çiller leans forward and says across the table to Güney, ‘What’s this I’m reading in Hürriyet about Strasbourg breaking up the nation?’ ‘It’s not breaking up the nation. It’s a French motion to implement European Regional Directive 8182 which calls for a Kurdish Regional Parliament.’ ‘And that’s not breaking up the nation?’ General Çiller throws up his hands in exasperation. He’s a big, square man, the model of the military, but he moves freely and lightly ‘The French prancing all over the legacy of Atatürk? What do you think, Mr Sarioğlu?’ The trap could not be any more obvious but Ayşe sees Adnan straighten his tie, the code for, Trust me, I know what I’m doing, ‘What I think about the legacy of Atatürk, General? Let it go. I don’t care. The age of Atatürk is over.’ Guests stiffen around the table, breath subtly indrawn; social gasps. This is heresy. People have been shot down in the streets of Istanbul for less. Adnan commands every eye. ‘Atatürk was father of the nation, unquestionably. No Atatürk, no Turkey. But, at some point every child has to leave his father. You have to stand on your own two feet and find out if you’re a man. We’re like kids that go on about how great their dads are; my dad’s the strongest, the best wrestler, the fastest driver, the biggest moustache. And when someone squares up to us, or calls us a name or even looks at us squinty, we run back shouting ‘I’ll get my dad, I’ll get my dad!’ At some point; we have to grow up. If you’ll pardon the expression, the balls have to drop. We talk the talk mighty fine: great nation, proud people, global union of the noble Turkic races, all that stuff. There’s no one like us for talking ourselves up. And then the EU says, All right, prove it. The door’s open, in you come; sit down, be one of us. Move out of the family home; move in with the other guys. Step out from the shadow of the Father of the Nation. ‘And do you know what the European Union shows us about ourselves? We’re all those things we say we are. They weren’t lies, they weren’t boasts. We’re good. We’re big. We’re a powerhouse. We’ve got an economy that goes all the way to the South China Sea. We’ve got energy and ideas and talent - look at the stuff that’s coming out of those tin-shed business parks in the nano sector and the synthetic biology start-ups. Turkish. All Turkish. That’s the legacy of Atatürk. It doesn’t matter if the Kurds have their own Parliament or the French make everyone stand in Taksim Square and apologize to the Armenians. We’re the legacy of Atatürk. Turkey is the people. Atatürk’s done his job. He can crumble into dust now. The kid’s come right. The kid’s come very right. That’s why I believe the EU’s the best thing that’s ever happened to us because it’s finally taught us how to be Turks.’ General Çiller beats a fist on the table, sending the cutlery leaping. ‘By God, by God; that’s a bold thing to say but you’re exactly right.

People do not feel anxious or weary when they follow the Qur’an’s morality. However, the enjoyment derived from doing something with worldly aims in mind is very limited and of short duration. When the benefits gained run out, their eagerness to continue subsides and the aim becomes regarded as a bother. But those who seek Allah’s favor are rewarded with pleasure, for they know that they will be rewarded for their intention and not for the nature of the act. Therefore, they will never get bored with doing it: Their [the sacrificial animals’] flesh and blood does not reach Allah, but your heedfulness does. In this way He has subjected them to you so that you might proclaim Allah’s greatness for the way that He has guided you. Give good news to those who do good. (Surat al-Hajj: 37) Adnan Oktar Harun Yahya 33 And so, no matter what they do, if they perform it in the hope of winning Allah’s pleasure, and if they keep on doing so until the end of their lives, they will never get bored or lose their enjoyment in doing it again and again. No matter how long they do that deed, their love and desire for earning Allah’s favor will cause them to constantly create new and beautiful things on their horizon. Having rooted their morality in fear of Him, they form close relationships and friendships with those around them; have no desire for rank, position, or money; and are never jealous or anxious.

Aşksız ve paramparçaydı dünya bir inancın yüceliğinde sevdim seni bir kavganın güzelliğinde sevdim. bitmedi daha sürüyor o kavga ve sürecek yeryüzü aşkın yüzü oluncaya dek! Aşk demişti yaşamın büyük ustaları aşk ile sevebilmek bir güzelliği ve dövüşebilmek o güzellik uğruna. işte yüzünde badem çiçekleri saçlarında gülen toprak ve ilkbahar. sen misin seni sevdiğim o kavga, sen o kavganın güzelliği misin yoksa… Bir inancın yüceliğinde buldum seni bir kavganın güzelliğinde sevdim. Bin kez budadılar körpe dallarımızı bin kez kırdılar. yine çiçekteyiz işte yine meyvedeyiz bin kez korkuya boğdular zamanı bin kez ölümlediler yine doğumlardayız işte, yine sevinçteyiz. bitmedi daha sürüyor o kavga ve sürecek yeryüzü aşkın yüzü oluncaya dek! Geçtiğimiz o ilk nehirlerden beri suyun ayakları olmuştu ayaklarımız ellerimiz, taşın ve toprağın elleri. yağmurlara susamış sabahlarda çoğalırdık sabahlarda dikilirdik burçlarınıza. türküler söylerdik hep aynı telden aynı sesten, aynı yürekten dağlara biz vermiştik morluğunu, henüz böyle yağmalanmamışken gençliğimiz… Ne gün batımı ölümlerin üzüncüne ne tan atışı doğumların sevincine ey bir elinde mezarcılar yaratan, bir elinde ebeler koşturan doğa bu seslenişimiz yalnızca sana yaşamasına yaşıyoruz ya güzelliğini bitmedi daha sürüyor o kavga ve sürecek yeryüzü aşkın yüzü oluncaya dek! Saltanatlar saraylar çöker bu kan susar bu zulüm biter. menekşeler de açılır üstümüzde leylaklar da güler. bugünlerden geriye, bir yarına gidenler kalır bir de yarınlar için dövüşenler… Şiirler doğacak kıvamda yine duygular yeniden yağacak kıvamda. ve yürek, imgelerin en ulaşılmaz doruğunda. ey herşey bitti diyenler korkunun sofrasında yılgınlık yiyenler. ne dağlarda direnen çiçekler ne kentlerde devleşen öfkeler henüz elveda demediler. bitmedi sürüyor o kavga ve sürecek yeryüzü aşkın yüzü oluncaya dek!

British / Pakistani ISIS suspect, Zakaria Saqib Mahmood, is arrested in Bangladesh on suspicion of recruiting jihadists to fight in Syria • Local police named arrested Briton as Zakaria Saqib Mahmood, also known as Zak, living in 70 Eversleigh Road, Westham, E6 1HQ London • They suspect him of recruiting militants for ISIS in two Bangladeshi cities • He arrived in the country in February, having previously spent time in Syria and Pakistan • Suspected militant recruiter also recently visited Australia A forty year old Muslim British man has been arrested in Bangladesh on suspicion of recruiting would-be jihadists to fight for Islamic State terrorists in Syria and Iraq. The man, who police named as Zakaria Saqib Mahmood born 24th August 1977, also known as Zak, is understood to be of Pakistani origin and was arrested near the Kamalapur Railway area of the capital city Dhaka. He is also suspected of having attempted to recruit militants in the northern city of Sylhet - where he is understood to have friends he knows from living in Newham, London - having reportedly first arrived in the country about six months ago to scout for potential extremists. Militants: The British Pakistani man (sitting on the left) named as Zakaria Saqib Mahmood was arrested in Bangladesh. The arrested man has been identified as Zakaria Saqib Mahmood, sources at the media wing of Dhaka Metropolitan Police told local newspapers. He is believed to have arrived in Bangladesh in February and used social media websites including Facebook to sound out local men about their interest in joining ISIS, according Monirul Islam - joint commissioner of Dhaka Metropolitan Police - who was speaking at a press briefing today. Zakaria has openly shared Islamist extremist materials on his Facebook and other social media links. An example of Zakaria Saqib Mahmood sharing Islamist materials on his Facebook profile He targeted Muslims from Pakistan as well as Bangladesh, Mr Islam added, before saying: 'He also went to Australia but we are yet to know the reason behind his trips'. Zakaria saqib Mahmood trip to Australia in order to recruit for militant extremist groups 'From his passport we came to know that he went to Pakistan where we believe he met a Jihadist named Rauf Salman, in addition to Australia during September last year to meet some of his links he recruited in London, mainly from his weekly charity food stand in East London, ' the DMP spokesperson went on to say. Police believes Zakaria Mahmood has met Jihadist member Rauf Salman in Pakistan Zakaria Saqib Mahmood was identified by the local police in Pakistan in the last September. The number of extremists he has met in this trip remains unknown yet. Zakaria Saqib Mahmood uses charity food stand as a cover to radicalise local people in Newham, London. Investigators: Dhaka Metropolitan Police believe Zakaria Saqib Mhamood arrived in Bangladesh in February and used social media websites including Facebook to sound out local men about their interest in joining ISIS The news comes just days after a 40-year-old East London bogus college owner called Sinclair Adamson - who also had links to the northern city of Sylhet - was arrested in Dhaka on suspicion of recruiting would-be fighters for ISIS. Zakaria Saqib Mahmood, who has studied at CASS Business School, was arrested in Dhaka on Thursday after being reported for recruiting militants. Just one day before Zakaria Mahmood's arrest, local police detained Asif Adnan, 26, and Fazle ElahiTanzil, 24, who were allegedly travelling to join ISIS militants in Syria, assisted by an unnamed Briton. It is understood the suspected would-be jihadists were planning to travel to a Turkish airport popular with tourists, before travelling by road to the Syrian border and then slipping across into the warzone.

The Army can be family. The Army can be religion.

I’m just heading back in when I spot Adnan’s father standing with all four of my guards. “Tatuma,” he greets. “I have come on behalf of the King to inquire why you are outside against his orders.” His voice is stern, but his eyes are amused. His back is to the guards, I gather the tone of his voice is more for their benefit than mine. “Orders? I had thought it was more of a suggestion. There has been a misunderstanding it seems.” I nod to the fourth guard. “Thank you for clarifying his orders at my request.” He nods back. His face is pale. I wonder what the King did to him. Adnan’s father chuckles at my maneuvre.

The impact of the work of this industry is no joking matter. Their influence has led to numerous Congressional hearings on the “radicalization” of American Muslims and a veritable witch hunt of any American Muslim engaged in policy or government work.

Consciousness has an inner depth at every stage, and is not something that emerges at some stage down the line. Forms of consciousness emerge as forms of energy/matter, but consciousness itself is simply alongside all along, as the principal reality of every form.

The only way I can process it is through my faith. That God was not going to let suffer all this in vain. Why he suffered any of it, why innocents suffer at all, is not a question mere mortals have ever been able to sufficiently answer. It's enough for me to know that all through out history, incredibly good people have suffered terribly, and suffering is not punishment. But much suffering is followed by redemption, sometimes that redemption even coming after the death of great people.

القبر صديق حنون لمن دنياه تعيسة ((قصة ((الصومعة

My breathing is a tide. Love doesn’t die.

to the West the trains are falling apart like Marilyn Monroe

Night is an element of love; like fog. It liberates space, lets freshness cross it. Its magic elevates the body, brings to the surface the mystery of just being alive, being. With or without stars and galaxies, the sky becomes a private territory—the imagination’s own scope. These are moments when one reaches all there is between the moon and oneself. — Etel Adnan, Etel Adnan: on Love and the Cost We Are Not Willing to Pay Today (Hatje Cantz Verlag GmbH & Co KG, 2011)

Nostalji kavramının, konu edindiği döneme ait bir içgörü sağlamaktansa, dönemin sadece süslü bir ambalajını sunduğunu düşünüyorum. Nostalji eylemi geçmişte yapılanları metalaştırıyor, bir tüketim nesnesi haline getiriyor. Keyif verici bir maddeye dönüşüyor geçmiş, yan etkisi ise geçmişle bugünü objektif bir şekilde değerlendirme yetisini köreltmek oluyor. Geçmişin olumsuzlukları göz ardı edilirken, bugün ve gelecek acı verici bir karamsarlığa bürünüyor.

When he turned the key in the ignition, there was a blinding flash followed by total blackness. In that brief instant, Ryan knew his life was over. Two days later, William Holden attended a memorial service for Ray Ryan at the Ziemer Funeral Home East Chapel with its tall white colonnades and trimmed green lawn. The service was held in the presence of several uniformed police officers and undercover FBI agents, one of whom posed as a window washer across the street. Ryan’s ashes were taken to Africa, where his tearful widow Helen Kelley scattered them at the base of Mount Kenya. Afterwards, Holden called Adnan Khashoggi and told him he wanted to sell the Safari Club. “Why?” Khashoggi asked. “Because it’s no fun anymore.

Okudum ama söylediğiniz gibi bir anahtara rastlamadım ki.’’ ‘’Ne yani Tanrı, bu anahtardır diye ayetin yanına not mu düşecekti? dedi. Güldü.

Hatırlayın: Peygamberlere vahiyler hep dağlarda geldi. Musa On Emri Dağda aldı. İbrahim Peygamber de Hz.Muhammed de Tanrı ile ilk görüşmesini dağda yaptı. Neden? Doğunun mistik kişilikleri hep dağlarda yaşadılar ve yaşamaya devam ediyorlar.Neden? Gençler cevap bekler ifadeyle baktılar hocalarına. ‘’Deniz seviyesinden yükseldikçe havadaki oksijen miktarı azalır. Bu da kandaki karbondioksit seviyesini arttırır. Bunun doğal sonucu olarak damarlar, özellikle beyni besleyen damarlar genişler ve beyin daha fazla oksijen alır. Böyle bir yükseklikte uzun süre kalmak beynin sezgisel gücünü arttırdığı gibi algılama kapasitesini de arttırır. İşte bu yüzden dostlarım, bize yüksek bir yerde büyük bir arazi lazım, iklimin de ılıman olması gerek. Toros Dağları bunun için uygun olur.

Yok be beyim, buraya devlet bile anca seçimden seçime uğrar.

Hayat gerçekten de bizim kontrolümüzde değil midir?

Kutsal kitaplarda yüce konsey oldukları yazan bir takım insanlar varmış. Ama bunlar insandan ziyade Tanrı’nın bizzat kendisinin insan suretine bürünüp görünmesinden ibaretmiş baba. Sen de gayet iyi bilirsin ki, bir ortama aydınlık geldiğinde, karanlık hemen kaybolur. Bu yüce konseyin hayal edilemez, akıl almaz bir gücü varmış ve belli aralıklarla dünyaya, özellikle de karanlık tarafa müdahale edip dengeyi sağlarlarmış. Hatta Enver’e göre en son böyle bir müdahale bizim Kurtuluş Savaşımızda yaşanmış.

Parşömenlerde Tanrı’nın sonsuz sayıda evren yarattığını ve her evrende bizden bir tane olduğunu ve hayatımız boyunca yaşayabileceğimiz tüm ihtimalleri bu evrenlerde yaşadığımız anlatılıyordu. Bu bana yanlış gelmişti çünkü çok iyi biliyorum ki Tanrı bir yarattığını bir daha asla yaratmaz. Aksi halde kendini tekrara düşmüş ve sınırlandırmış olur ki bu imkansız. Çin’den gelen bir bilgiye göre de sonsuz sayıda evren var. Ancak bu evrenler birbirinden ayrı değil, aksine iç içe girmiş durumda ve hepsi bizim şu an içinde yaşadığımız dünyada. Bizler her birimiz farkında bile olmadan belki de her gün onlarca kez bir evrenden diğerine geçiyoruz. Yaptığımız her seçimin, verdiğimiz her kararın sonunda aslında biz algılamasak bile içinde yaşamakta olduğumuz evrenden,yeni seçimimize göre yeniden şekillenen başka bir evrenin kapısından içeri giriyoruz. Ancak işin bu kısmı biraz karmaşık geldi bana. El yazmasında denildiğine göre insan örneğin gözlerini kapatıp-gözlerimi açtığımda avucumun içine bir elmas parçasının belireceğini biliyorum derse ve bunu yaparken içinde zerre kadar şüphe barındırmadan, düşündüğüne kesin olarak inanırsa o anda kendini yine bu dünyada yaratılmış olan farklı bir evrende buluverir. Ve gözlerini açtığında ona göre hiçbir şey değişmemiştir avucunda beliren elmas dışında. Ancak içinde bulunduğu mekanın kapısından çıktığı anda onu farklı bir evren karşılar. Ama Tanrı o kişinin bilincini o anda değiştirir ve yeni hayatı zaten yaşamakta olduğu bilgisini onun zihnine aktarır. O kişi bu evrende artık elmas tüccarıdır ve hep öyleymiş hissi ile yaşadığı için kapıdan geçmeden önceki hayatını asla hatırlamaz. Böylece o kişi, şüphesiz inançla tüm hayatını bir anda değiştirebilir.

It wasn't just Adnan being indicted at this grand jury proceeding, it wasn't just him being prosecuted. His faith, his ethnicity, his community--they were all on trial.

Adnan was deluged with letters, notes, pictures, and prayers. Some were short messages of support, others were pages and pages of personal divulgences. Adnan was stunned at the sometimes very intimate nature of the letters, people pouring out their pain and tribulations to a stranger. He realized it was sometimes easier for people to share their deepest sorrows with a stranger than with people they knew. I told him that’s how the Internet mostly works. Students

MESUT ADNAN (Dotı.1963

Kısakürek, Menderes’le ilgili kitabında bu olayların “Adnan Menderes’in üzerinde bir trauma-ruhi darbe tesiri yaptığını” ve bunun da Başbakan’ın “hadisenin tertip tarafında bulunduğuna delil” teşkil ettiğini söylüyor.123 Ne var ki, yazarımız, bu tespitten sonra 6-7 Eylül faciasını kınayacağına Menderes’i garip bir şekilde eleştiriyor ve Başbakan’ın olaylardan sonra “rizikoya göğüs gererek ileri atılacağına” korkarak geri çekildiğini ve “bütün haklarını haksızlığa çevirici ve kendisini içten çökertici, pasif mizacını” ortaya koyan bir tavır sergilediğini söylüyor (s. 333, 336). Kısaca Menderes Büyük Doğu’nun beklediği, bel bağladığı “sivil darbe”yi yapamamış ve hayranlarının gözünden düşmüştür.

The contrast with many other Sunni Muslim clergymen is stark. Another Syrian mullah, Sheikh Adnan al-Arour, broadcasts regularly from Saudi Arabia with a different message: “The problem is actually with some minorities and sects that support the regime . . . and I mention in particular the Alawite sect. We will never harm any one of them who stood neutral, but those who stood against us, I swear by Allah, we will grind them and feed them to the dogs.” Another Sunni preacher, the Egyptian Sheikh Mohammad al-Zughbey, went further: “Allah! Kill that dirty small sect [the Alawites]. Allah! Destroy them. Allah! They are the Jews’ agents. Kill them all. . . . It is a holy jihad.

No power has ever came upon the heart, unless the very inner of ourselves allowed the same.