My high school is in the outskirts of Istanbul and I live right in the city centre. To get to school I must go to the bus stop everyday and get on an hour long bus journey. After school, it is again that bus stop, from which I start walking back home shaking off all the agonizing thoughts I had during the day and the tiresome nature I usually am in towards the evening.
In the morning where everybody is rushing to catch the earliest bus to work, the bus stop is always crowded with people. I stand waiting in the early hours of the day, along with many others, for my bus to arrive so that I can continue on with what I am supposed to do. The anonymity is suffocating. Although I seem to recognize familiar faces– frequency takes its toll – they all tend to act merely as figurines in this motionless scene.
The scene is interrupted by a swift horn and a cloud of grey smoke which triggers a reaction so abrupt, so inhumane that those who have fallen victim to the habitual drowsiness of the early hours throw themselves forward in an effort to shout out their existence that may have, for an instant, gone unnoticed. A handful of people get on the bus and the scene is restored once again.
In all the commotion, I take refuge in my imagination. I judder at a car passing by. My eyes follow, only to stop gazed on the countenance of a young lady. She is beauty. My mind wanders the barren fields of her face claiming the cheeks, the nose and the ears. Her eyelids close, my eyes escape.
My bus arrives and I forget, only to relive it all the next morning.