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The woman's eyes were was like a pit or well. I turned my back to the stranger
who looked like she was in a spot of trouble or needed some help.
And I defended myself via the third person. That part of me, which betrays
itself in our films, our poetry in the name of convention through the third...
Is something up?
No. Why would it be?
They called from the publishers today.
They want to meet me tomorrow.
Looks like they're going to publish it this time.
Why would they bother calling otherwise?
You remember my friends are coming tonight?
I said I wouldn't be joining you.
Yes, you did. 'Coz you don't have the patience.
It's not you, it's them I can't put up with.
Cheers.
You know what Hasan said today?
Hasan?
The department head. People who are settled down, and I don't mean married.
People who have someone waiting at home are more also productive at work.
He joked about me finding a partner and stuff. I told him I had a partner.
Not that you'd know.
You don't come to my parents' for dinner. You won't meet my friends.
You don't do anything with me.
Beneath, the thick silence that precedes a break up.
In a moment, the woman will slam the door hard behind her.
Arif, why are you with me?
The latch will fall in the lock with a sound that defies description.
Really? What do you want from me?
I'll think, what if it's over? What if it's not?
BUT, MÜZZEYEN, THIS IS A DEEP ROOTED PASSION
Well, that's life. Maybe break ups are a small rehearsal for death.
The more serious the break up, the more prepared you are for pain of death.
You look for something. Fantastic!
What you think, dad? Is it always the same person who writes these endings?
They all start differently, but they all end the same.
Sometimes I wonder what if I'd been a woman. Would I have acted like that?
Let me tell you. You'd have scuttled off into a corner. You can't just have a
relationship standing on the side- lines. You need to take responsibility.
You're telling me about relationships. I'm talking about love.
Love isn't about trips to the market or family visits. It's about...
It's about what?
It's about of the kind of woman we want.
I think the kind of woman you want should make me her first priority.
She would be maternal, sort me out, hold me, protect me.
The woman you mean must be beautiful. Men go mad when she twirls her skirt.
You can't get enough of her hair, her lips, her thighs...
Fine, but she needs to be as smart as she is beautiful. Politics, football...
The woman you want should be good in bed, lithe, not stiff like a corpse.
But she shouldn't be a sex maniac.
All these conditions? Is she trying to join the EU?
The woman you want should be good with her hands. She could sew on a zip,
Not run around looking for a tailor.
She wouldn't get on your nerves or laugh for no reason.
And she wouldn't nag you. She wouldn't even swear.
She wouldn't even speak if possible.
What do you think?
Hey, come on in.
Thanks. Isn't Barýþ here?
He'll be here in a bit. Wasn't today your day off?
Yes. It still is.
So, we've been together so long that I feel that if we don't get married,
we'll have to break up.
Sounds like nonsense to you, right?
Not really. There's no logical side to this messed up relationship stuff.
What does it matter if you get married or if you don't?
Oh, it's so odd. I guess I must love the guy. Why else would the idea of
waking up together seem so pleasant?
Look. Grinning like a Cheshire cat.
Ok, I'll just go and give him a kiss. Out of my way.
People sometimes think an individual incomplete, so they try to make a whole
by adding one more. But two is a cursed number. It can't support itself.
It always runs to a third.
That's why it makes me sad when friends get married.
In fact, I'm not the kind of guy who runs after women he sees on the street.
But the woman had a strange appeal.
Was I looking for a woman like that? One who seems to exist out of time
and walks about like she has nowhere to be.
A woman I could wake up next to as the morning sun comes through the window.
Sociable but who just takes off on her own.
Flirtatious and faithful.
Could this have been that woman?
But then the woman suddenly realised she was being watched and stopped.
She turned around slowly, looking back.
I can't see the woman's face.
He told me herself. I know that girl. Not even a month since the break-up.
You know what gets me the most? I had to suffer the worst parts of his life
and now others are reaping the rewards.
And he got his teeth done too. How wouldn't I notice?
Just look at the photo. Grinning away.
He looks like my aunt Nedjmiye.
Hold on. I need to hang up. Hello. Welcome.
Is Arzu here? I know I've turned up unannounced...
She's here. I'll let her know you've arrived. Mr Tanrýverdi is here.
Go on in. She's expecting you.
Burak dear, don't worry. I'm taking care of it.
- Don't give it asecond thought. - Ok. See you.
- Ok. See you. Take care. Bye bye. - Bye bye.
I get the main character, the guy, but the woman she's a bit too vague. On the
one hand, you see she's quite dominant. I got that from some of the dialogue,
but that aside, you don't give much of a hint. Your book deals with
the human spirit, but something's missing. For example, what's her name?
I chose not to give her a name.
Well, I think she should have a name. A name reveals a lot. And what about her
house, her belongings, her scent, how she dresses, what she likes or hates,
her relationship with the city she lives in. In fact, it's only when you
describe the woman fully that she can become memorable. Just think about it,
Madam Bovary, Anna Karenina, the Madonna in a fur coat. Basically,
the woman needs to be visible. I'm making myself clear, right?
Are you ok?
Yes.
Ok.
Right, well we've got a very full calendar and we only have room for one
or two new Turkish books, but like I said, I have a feeling about this book,
and I want to give it a chance. Now it's up to you to use that chance.
That's a beautiful pen holder.
Thank you. Thanks. I like your T-shirt.
Um. yes.
I hope no one hears, but I'm glad to see the most. You turn out well!
Enough already, you've turned me into a monkey. Let me have a look at you.
Lucky bastard!
Have you met my dad? Come, he really wanted to meet you.
I'll have to adapt to this kind of environment first. Later.
OK, well I better get back to playing hostess. If I don't topple over!
Tiny little brothers.
Look, this is the biggest. Looks a bit chubby.
A bit arrogant. Abandoned by their dad
they need to feel they know everything.
And here, the best looking guy on the block. All the girls are mad about him.
And this is the most uptight. He looks on edge.
You have humiliated me, humiliated me!
You should have cracked open a bottle of raký. Was the conversation flowing?
So, is everyone watching me today?
- Everyone? - Look over at...
The editor said there's something missing. But isn't that just like life?
There always remains some stubborn question mark. Things don't quite fit.
And they call that love.
It looks like we have similar tastes.
You take it. It's clear you don't make decisions easily.
It's not that. It's hard to make a decision with so much choice.
Yes, just as I suspected.
That young guy there, next to the brunette. Can't remember his name,
but he's been talking about you for the last half hour. Says you're a writer.
He's a big fan. I learned quite a lot about you.
An unpublished writer. I hope I haven't disappointed you.
I don't know. A man who talks to inanimate objects, who doesn't have a
mobile phone, and lives in a hotel. Doesn't seem so bad at all.
O, let me get you some wine. If I had to guess
- I'd say you drink white. - If you say so.
Are you with the bride or groom's party?
Neither, actually.
So, what are you doing here?
They send me for you. From above.
My friend was invited. Kader.
She's have a rough time of it. She was humming and hawing, so I made her come.
You know, nice clothes and a few drink does us all some good.
Seems to have worked. She looks well.
Thanks to her friend. He seems to like her.
Erdem? He's not a bad guy, but he's... Well, he's very "giving" with women.
Who cares! Sex is good. She can deal with his past. She's a grown woman.
Sorry. My grandma would scold me about this. I was inappropriate, wasn't I?
Müzeyyen. Sorry, I'm taking her away. Look who's here!
I'll be back in a bit.
Müzeyyen...
So, you live in a hotel.
Mmm.
I haven't been so jealous of someone in a long time.
People find it odd, but it's nothing to be jealous of 50 lira a night.
If you want we can live on the same floor. The room next to me is free.
Good lord! No registering with the council, no bills to pay, and so on.
Well, if you tell them you know Arif, they'll even give you a discount.
So, you're saying to act on what you sparks your curiousity...
Well...
You're quite cocky.
I guess.
Maybe one day I'll do it. Just leave it all behind and go.
What?
Don't go.
Yes.
The moment I feared is here. The end of the road. Now I should wait
for the woman to enter the house like a responsible taxi driver. Right?
Well then, I hope to see you again, responsible taxi driver.
I hope so too.
Take care.
Seriously? Are you going to head off without taking my number or anything?
No. I planned to wait outside your door.
Oh lord. That would have been lovely. I'm too hasty. I messed it all up.
No, not at all. I liked your style.
Good. I'll wait, then.
- Don't forget to bring your novel. - It isn't finished.
Oh, but they never are.
Around here, women are caught in a triangle of shame, taboo, and sin, but
it looked like Müzeyyen had long since torn up that triangle and replaced it
with a Devil's Triangle.
Mine called by with your stuff today. I guess the boys forgot to give you it.
Now I get why you laughed when I said I'd arrived.
Don't worry, baby. I know you love me.
Why can't it be with other women the way it is with you?
Because we aren't together.
If we were, I'd strangle you three times a day.
What do you mean we aren't together? Because we haven't stifled each other,
or because we've accepted the way we are, does that mean we aren't together?
Really, I don't get this relationship stuff, and I get bored and sometimes I
bore myself and I want to end my relationship with myself.
Look. If you work, you get time off. If you go to school, you get time off.
It's only in romantic relationships you don't. People want it to go on forever.
You know what? You are one amazing woman.
Wait. I need to go downstairs.
- Shall I order you tea or coffee? - No.
Don't you think life is gloriously beautiful and gloriously ridiculous?
I'd love to know what you're like when you're drunk.
And while I remember, you owe two weeks.
The boys didn't mention it since I'm back and forth here.
Don't fall behind in your rent, baby.
Hey! Is that a threat?
Believe me, the world won't offer you a thing. If you want a life, steal it.
Steal it.
Burak Tanrýverdi.
In seeking to answer the question of whom and why we love,
he reveals his unique literary style.
Fuck that.
Yes, in fact, I like some parts of it.
But...
Ok. Right. Basically, you are saying this. The man really loves the woman.
As he loves, his spirit grows, becomes too big for the house. Every morning,
he gets up before her, goes around he city collecting stories and then
he comes home to the woman in the middle of the night. It's a bit like...
It's like a kite flying in the wind of its own accord.
What do you mean?
I mean now and then its strings get caught up and it returns to the woman.
Look, Müzeyyen, this is a deep-rooted passion.
It strikes me as a rather one-sided love. For example, why do you think
the relationship ends?
Well, everything's fine and then it just snaps.
What do you mean, snaps?
It falls apart, like discussions do, like relationships covered in shit.
But, something like that doesn't just happen. There has to be a reason.
But it's a sensation, a sense that the woman is on her way out, a sense of
the relationship coming to an end.
Is this feeling contained in the flow of the story, or is it imported?
I think you need to consider that.
You've got a bit of paper just...
Müzeyyen would bring me to water and take me away thirsty.
But it was good. I liked it.
Our fake brands, the illegal buildings, the ideas outsourced in our language,
Why shouldn't my feelings be imported?
Yes. The term imported fit just right.
You know you're quite attractive.
Go on.
Be my woman.
My woman!
So, you're saying we should give this evening a title.
What is that supposed to mean?
My grandma would say that. She'd be happy once she knew what's for dinner.
I ask you to be my woman, and you turn it into something about meat and veg.
Ok then, in the clear light of day, I proclaim that I am your WOMAN.
But honestly? I'd rather be your whore.
I'd rather you loved me for my body. For my breasts, for my thighs.
It's very tiring to be a good woman, don't you know?
Are you going?
Are you awake? Yes, I'm off. I'm late.
Just shut the door tightly on your way out.
The lock doesn't always catch.
So, are we meeting up this evening?
Of course.
Sometimes shaving foam is your friend, sometimes your enemy.
Where did you come from? How long are your planning to stay?
Cheers. Mmm. It's good.
Two beers please.
It was only later I realised what was odd about Müzeyyen. She didn't flirt.
She didn't avoid eye contact, or get excited, or stumble on her words, or
bite her lips. She didn't have any inclination to talk about herself.
Either she had no problem winning me over or she was used to being liked.
Erdem, can we talk?
Where were you? Who'd you message? Wh...
You're doing my head in. Just fuck off.
I can't get it out of my head. She just came in, slapped him and left.
And so I know what makes you laugh. I hope nothing like that happens to us.
Of course not. Feelings can change, but there's no need to get that angry.
Mmmm. I thought it was usually men who get stuck between theory and practice.
Welcome to our club.
So, do you think I seem undecided?
Well, let's imagine one day you see me playing around with a woman at the bar.
What would you do then? Would your act normally?
Yes...
And you'd never see me again either. But that's something else.
See! You act normal and at the same time you'd never show your face again.
So what? Something doesn't have to be wrong for someone's heart to break.
Something doesn't have to be wrong for someone's heart to break.
Müzeyyen was as arrogant as she was beautiful. But she was just a clever.
- And one day she said this to me... - So, then, come live with me.
And I started to live with her.
Have you seen me blue socks?
She was just a bit messy, was all.
Thanks.
Don't worry about the money. I'll take care of it for you if needed.
But she was very generous.
Call it a contribution to Turkish Literature.
It had a whiff of dependency about it.
Where'd you get the idea that I had no interest in beauty?
How many women are there left in the world who cut their own hair?
Arif, beauty is like money. Only those who have it say it isn't important.
Müzeyyen, you are quite an extraordinary woman.
I... just get bored at the hairdresser's. That's all.
You know, sometimes I see another woman in the mirror. The reverse of me.
If I'm domestic, she's street smart. If I'm sociable, she's a loner.
I'm day, she's night. Or the other way around. Flirtatious, strong, free.
So, tell me then, which of you dragged this carcass of mine into their home?
I have to answer it.
Do it later.
It could be my grandma.
Grandma.
Hello. Hi, Poyraz.
Well, they give planning permission to anyone who asks. What did you say?
I get that, but I'm asking what you said.
What? What did you say? I'll show you what it means to act the boss.
The guy's outright lying. So, we said 12 floors and what, then we forced
him to git rid of five floors? There was nothing like that in the plan.
Nothing like that in the plan.
If you trust me so much why don't you put me in charge?
The guy thinks each piece of good design is wasted space.
Ok, then. Right. Let's talk about it tomorrow. Ok. I'll come in early. Ok.
Don't annoy me Poyraz. Don't annoy me.
Ok. Take care. You too.
Don't annoy me Poyraz.
That was your boss, I guess.
Yes. I better take this so I don't forget.
No man wants to grow accustomed to the voice of jealousy rising inside him.
If he takes the role of the jealous man the curtain never falls on that play.
I'm going to my grandma's after work. Don't worry if I'm late.
You can work away free from temptation.
Who took these photos?
Ta-daa.
What are you doing? What am I doing?
Rummaging through a woman's stuff.
What am I doing?
Rummaging through a woman's stuff.
It doesn't hurt, does it?
No. I'm shouting at them, dear. And this here, it had me moaning all night.
Like a tractor drove over me.
Shall I raise it up a bit.
No, dear, no.
So, it's ok like this?
I don't want you to go to any bother.
Wait, I still have to do the towel, grandma.
I've had enough now. Ok. Ok. Ah, what a relief. I can breathe again.
Müzeyyen's mum and dad.
So she's the baby, then.
Yes. A memento of my son. They passed away when they were young.
The mind can't fathom the work of God. Only Müzeyyen survived the crash.
Nothing matches the pain of losing a child. But Müzeyyen kept me strong.
She was as quiet as a mouse, a little angel. She never gave me any problems.
She really does keep her own council. She never mentioned any of this to me.
What, don't you talk to each other?
No, it's not like that. We never had the chance to talk about this.
Ahh, the woes of the world. We all used to live in each other's pockets here.
Now, I don't know a single person in the building.
What do you do for a living, dear?
I'm a writer. Well, trying to be a writer.
Really? So you're a writer too.
Who else is a writer, Grandma? Who else? Grandma? Who else is a writer?
Grandma, didn't Mercan come this week?
She did.
So, why's the sink all covered in grease?
She must have missed it.
Gran, don't be so stubborn. Once a week isn't enough. I'll find you someone.
Hello. I guess you're in charge.
I wanted to put up this poster. Can I put it up here?
Delving into the labyrinths where the real and the imaginary intersect, his
novels make one ponder the nature of love. Mister Burak Tanrýverdi.
Apparently so.
Apparently. Put it up.
It was a very eventful dinner. I think you should have come.
What happened?
Was I a visitor at Müzeyyen's workplace or in her heart?
When he realised he was racing though shallow thoughts, he understood that
He was fine with the questions, but the answers were what tripped him up.
- How can I help you? - I'm here to see Müzeyyen.
Müzeyyen. She's in a meeting now. You'll have to wait a while.
You're the one who drew it. What don't you like about it?
Yes, but this isn't what I drew. They've built a 12 storey building in
the city centre.
Look Müzeyyen, we will do this. Like it or not, he paid us and we'll build it.
They're always bickering like husband and wife.
This is the first project you wanted. We will do this job.
Ok. I get it. You do it. Ok? But I won't work with this guy. I'm serious.
Sometimes, you really get on my nerves.
- Uff! - Seriously.
Hey, love. Welcome.
I thought we were meeting downstairs.
Anyway, it's good you came.
My dear.
Let me introduce you. Poyraz, my boss. Arif, Arif.
You already met Berna, Poyraz's daughter. Anyway, I'll go...
get my bag and be right back.
Arif Berke. I'm a writer.
- Nice to meet you. - You too.
How's your grandma? Is she seeing Cem?
Yes. I took her last week. He takes care of her like he was her son.
Poyraz, thanks a lot. You really took a weight of my shoulders. Thank you.
Don't be silly. Of course we'd help.
What time's the play at? Let me take you out for dinner.
Thanks, but we don't have any time.
By the way. I saw Halil. He said hi.
Halil?
Yeah, they came to Turkey on holiday. They're going back next week.
He came on holiday?
Yes. He's married. Six months or so. Found himself a woman there in the end.
Hadn't you heard?
No.
Something was happening, but what? Still, I knew I had to handle it.
The subject of every row, every confrontation, no matter what,
Each one has its own internal timer.
Good lord! She was at home when I rang.
Grandma?
Grandma? Grandma?
A woman who doesn't cry will make you cry said a friend of mine.
But inside me there was a strange contentment. After everyone had gone,
when I sat face to face with the woman I loved, I knew she'd cry on my shoulder.
She was holding onto her tears for me.
How did this one find out?
- I'm sorry. - Thank you.
- Where is Müzeyyen? - Over there.
Can I have a look?
- Where from? - Here.
Are you Müzeyyen's boyfriend?
- Shall I tell you a secret? - Yes.
I don't even know what my relationship with Müzeyyen is.
Are you okay?
Why is it this hard?
This Halil. He was your friend from school, right?
So, what are you planning to do?
Nothing. I was just asking.
Maybe I wasn't the story's hero. Nor was this a story. Or maybe I was a
tightrope walker who forgot how to walk when he got to the centre of the rope.
What's up? Is something wrong?
What's this guy's part in our story?
I was wondering about you. I called but couldn't get hold of you.
Please call me, Burak.
Ah, Arif love, you're awake? We were waiting for the fourth person.
But you are already four.
No, we are only three. Come on!
I'm raising the bet.
Are you awake?
I couldn't bring myself to wake you.
Are you okay?
I'm fine. Don't worry.
I called you but I couldn't get a hold of you.
I left my phone at grandma's.
Müzeyyen, I want to ask you something.
Where do you know this Burak Tanrýverdi from?
When I'm in this much pain, is that all you can think about?
You said you wanted to ask me something.
If you've nothing on tomorrow...
how about we go out for breakfast?
Can we decide tomorrow? I don't know what I'll be doing in the morning yet.
And it might be good if I went to work.
Fine. I'll be inside.
Ok, I'll be in in a minute.
Müzeyyen, I had the weirdest dream.
What about?
You'd turned into a bug and were flying around.
Nice. Well, the flying part...
Then you said...
you would go anywhere in the world with me.
Would you really?
I would.
I'll be inside.
The woman was talking from far away with someone else's voice.
How and when had she gone there? Did the man send her?
Or did she call a cab and go on her own.
She told me she'd go anywhere in the world with me, but...
Müzeyyen was never the same again as she was before.
Could I now go on with the story of the man who slunk off at the crack of dawn
to wander the city so he could miss the woman he loved and return at night to
tell her stories?
I didn't know.
I don't know. I don't know.
Oh, you're home. I thought you'd be at work.
It's Tuesday.
Oh, right. Your day off.
Look what I got you.
A friend of mine designed it. I thought it was your style.
Thanks.
I'm going to the bathroom. Do you need anything from inside?
No.
Müzeyyen?
Yes?
Nothing. I just enjoy saying your name.
Dear Arif, please forgive me for doing this.
I would never have wanted it to end this way. But, I have to go.
If you knew what I was feeling, I'm sure you'd understand.
I won't be around for a while.
Please don't call me. Can you leave the key with the doorman
when you go?
Love, Müzeyyen.
Here, drink this. It will do you good.
My stomach really hurts.
But, it's for your stomach. So, are you going to drink it? Open wide.
Why did she go?
I never neglected her.
I would look into straight in the eye.
I'd have married her had she wanted.
I'm sorry, dear, but you don't get to write the ending of every story.
There must be a reason.
And what's right for me should be right for her.
I guess you mean, 'should have been. '
There was clearly something else going on for Müzeyyen.
Well, you'd know.
Me?
Yes, you. Why did she go?
Did I do something to her?
Don't go blaming it all on yourself. I might have had nothing to do with you.
That seems like a better possibility.
What's up? You look so down.
Müzeyyen's gone.
She's gone? She left you?
She's gone, she left. What does it matter. She's not around anymore.
So was it love or just a relationship? I base my score for her on that.
No one's happy in life. Some just up and leave, some stay and don't fuck up.
In these situations it's always the ones who stay who come out best.
But that's not what happened this time with your Müzeyyen.
Just let it go, mate. It's good to be dumped. Gives you an excuse to drink.
And less to regret. It's the one who leaves that suffers the remorse.
There's even a song:
"Is it harder to stay or harder to go? Come ask me in the morning."
Why did you do this to me Müzeyyen?
When I set myself no boundaries, How could I ever say no to you?
She's gone, but you're still here.
Good day. If you don't mind, I came to collect some clothes. Are you leaving?
What clothes?
Müzeyyen was going to put aside some clothes for us. Three bags, I think.
I was going to take them.
Go on through.
Thanks.
They're in there.
So, when are you going? Müzeyyen said you'd leave me the keys. I'll water the
plants and stuff. I guess she won't be around.
When did Müzeyyen tell you this?
The other day when she was leaving.
Did she leave on her own?
I dunno. She hopped in a car and left. I didn't see who was driving.
If you're heading off, I'll take the key. Close the door behind you.
I'll come back to lock up. I'm off out, so you might not be able get a hold me.
I changed my mind. I'll stay a few more days. I'll give you the keys later.
So, what am I going to say to Müzeyyen?
Hey. I don't want her be pissed at me.
Arif Berke. I would say what a coincidence, but...
You know, it was Müzeyyen who first brought me here. You can't get by with
just a little truth. You need the whole thing.
That's what Müzeyyen decreed.
If I'm so at ease today, it's down to her
but it's harder for you of course. It's both luck and misfortune
to be Müzeyyen's lover. Look at Burak.
Years later, and he still hasn't got himself together again.
Well I'd already guessed that she and that Burak Tanrýverdi had been lovers.
What do you mean lovers? They were married for six years.
Ahmet!
But he's a terrible writer.
And like you're a Nobel Laureate!
- So, what are we drinking? - One beer.
Have you no tea glasses?
Like you can drink tea in a paper cup!
You're right. The human race will soon die out due to laziness. Tea, please.
It's just as harmful as plastic, you know. They're plastic on the inside.
What can you do? City life! No one has time to wash a proper tea cup.
Hello. Do you two know each other?
Let's just say I was persistent.
Oh, come off it now!
Elif is our HR officer. And Arif, Arif will soon be one of our writers.
I hope. How is he novel coming along?
Really? You're a writer?
Burak and all are here. I'll just go say hi. Arif, don't go away.
We're going out to eat after. You can get to know the other writers.
- You'd like to come along, right? - Of course, I'd like that a lot.
Ok. Elif dear, add Arif to the list.
- I'm on it. - See you.
Promise. Sea bass. That's what we came for.
Will this be your first novel? I thought your name sounded familiar.
I've had a few short stories published in magazines. Maybe it was from there?
What's it about?
No matter. Maybe you don't want to discuss it.
No, I'm sorry. I'm just a bit tired. It's simple. There's a man who can't
open up to the woman he loves... I'm not eating, thanks.
I'll have the sea bass. You didn't finish. A man who can't open up...
to the woman he loves because he can't understand what's wrong himself.
That's a tough situation.
It's not tough at all, darling. The woman leaves the guy but both of them,
the guy and the woman herself want to figure out why. That's the nub of it.
Ah, so it's the woman who leaves. But doesn't she say why?
Maybe she didn't leave him. Maybe she's running from herself.
Maybe she ran away to the seaside to clear her head.
And at the end, she sits alone on a vast shore seeking meaning in her life.
We see the woman from behind. Her hair flowing in the wind. Right?
It doesn't matter why she left. In the end, she has to leave, and she does.
Why does she have to leave?
Simple. As I explained at the conference, there's no novel otherwise.
What's the alternative?
The man leaves. And there are passé stories where the couple reunites
and lives happily ever after. But they don't enter the literary canon.
A true writer can't ignore the complexity of the human spirit, right?
Hey... What street is this on?
I don't agree.
Anadoluhýsarý.
There's no need for someone to leave. Not everything needs to get burned by life.
It can also grow stronger.
In the end, the man needs someone else he can leave too. So he can grow.
It's doesn't really matter why the woman left, to be honest.
- Hello. - Come on.
Thanks.
What if the hero finally sees the truth and still doesn't know what to?
Then, we would need the third person.
Yes, but when the book is published, you're face a heap of criticism.
You'll have to learn to deal with...
I'm not in the mood for advice. Especially from you.
I know why you're so irritated by me.
The phrase irritated also irritates me.
I'd been asking myself since we met where I'd heard your name before.
And then I remembered.
Müzeyyen talked about you.
She came to me and asked if I would help you out. I told her that if you
were a talented writer, you'd find your own way. So? Did I say the right thing?
You can't smoke here.
Let them pray I don't burn the place down.
That might be fun. Give me a light.
Nothing works properly in this country anyway.
So, you sat down - husband and wife - and discussed my writing career...
Yes, we did. But she never told me you were the jealous type.
I'm not the jealous type.
Yes, I can see that.
Women like Müzeyyen make you jealous. It's nothing to be ashamed of.
When I was married... I mean, to Müzeyyen, she would drive me crazy,
but I never said a word.
She didn't even fight when she went. It just ended.
It has nothing to do with you. Do you know what I mean? It just ended.
It has nothing to do with you. You did nothing wrong. It's over, just over.
Over! What is that supposed to mean? Who just says it's over and leaves?
There must be a reason. Nothing happens without a reason.
Well, she actually said something like that to me too, something just snaps
And I needed to figure out what it was.
Yeah, One of Müzeyyen's grand sayings. If I'd been as wise then, I wouldn't
have been fooled. Those deep and meaningful sayings, the mysterious
Silences. Questioning looks. I know all her tricks. You and me, we're the same.
Like, we're both considered intellectuals. We tolerate her caprices
and she doesn't realise. You know what they call women like Müzeyyen?
Ah! Now, it works.
What do they say about women like Müzeyyen?
We fixed it! With this here!
- Gentlemen, you can't smoke in here. - Yes, you're right.
- Could you please go into the garden? - Look, mate, I've already put it out.
What do they say about women like Müzeyyen?
What do I know what they say? You forget you're still in love with her!
I know why Müzeyyen left you!
Ah, you know, I'm so pleased for you. Then you'll know why she left you.
Enough!
You scared me! I came for Müzeyyen's...
I came for my stuff. I'll be off soon.
I know how you feel.
Naturally, you're angry.
Müzeyyen loved you a lot.
She believed in you. She thought you'd make a great writer... She still does.
Well, sometimes we can't control life.
Kader? What are you trying to do?
I want to live my own life. Müzeyyen's not a bad person. Her and Halil...
I have no desire to find out about your life, Kader. Or Müzeyyen's either.
Sometimes you just hear something snap.
When you hear it, you have to go.
Sometimes it comes from a thing you own, sometimes from a third person.
'Coz, Kader, some buy a lampshade for the house, or a bedside lamp. Some buy
a set of furniture, or live in a hotel. At times you want it all at once.
Sometimes, you want to leave it all behind and just fuck off.
Come on.
Didn't it open?
Let's take these in too. Are you going to sell these by hand?
- You already sold half of them that way. - Don't be unfair. We're almost ready
for a second print.
If we sell another 350, we'll have a second print run.
We'll sell that many.
We will.
Welcome.
Hello.
You'll be to blame for me not kissing you.
When you have a lover, are you sure you'll still come and see us?
Of course, honey. Three is boring, four people is good. We can play Rummy Cup.
I just put on a pot of tea, come on in. You must be tired.
Aren't you coming?
Would you like some tea?
Are you expecting someone?
I always have an extra cup. That's life. You never know what will happen.
You've changed.
How so?
Something about your demeanour. But you look good.
You can thank yourself for that.
Müzeyyen, why did you up and leave me?
It was beyond my control. I couldn't stop myself. I was... in love with him.
I didn't want to hurt you, but I had to put myself first.
Was it worth it?
That's not what this is about. I needed to live, and I did. But, you know,
It ends just like everything else.
Yes, it does.
Thanks for the tea.
Don't go.
Please.
Please!
Let's say I hadn't left. We'd stayed together. What would have changed?
What would we have done?
We'd have loved.
What else?
We'd have woken up together.
I'd be up before you and I'd watch you sleeping.
Then, you would have woken up and smiled at me.
Then...
Then, you'd have tea with one sugar, but no sugar the rest of the day.
I'd put that first sugar in your tea. I'd have watched it gently dissolve.
Then...
Then, I'd know you liked being kissed on the neck the most.
Nice...
Yeah. Then we'd go out. It would be raining. We'd have no umbrella.
We'd get soaked. Then you'd lean in to me. But we wouldn't take shelter.
Then, you'd get cold.
Your feet would be ice cold.
I'd bring you your favorite blue socks.
Then, we'd visit your grandma's grave during each holiday.
Would we really?
We would.
I'd watch you cry for the woman you loved most in the world.
I would do nothing. I wouldn't clear your tears. I wouldn't comfort you.
I would simply watch your there, crying. I would wander among the graves
thinking how marvellous life was.
Then.
Then, we wouldn't do a single thing.
We'd just sit there.
We'd try to find an answer to some unknowable question.
We'd believe ourselves to be right until life proved us wrong,
So...
shall we have another tea?
I don't want to drink any more tea.
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