count the minarets, kids...first to 50 gets a lolly.

Whilst the religious interests of the citizenry of this country scream from different sides the spectrum; I'll attest that there are more churches at home standing in unrequited decay for each time I say "jesus" than there are mosques lacking piety for each "al-lah, al-lah."

Although a slight blip in the trajectory of assumed circumstance is often equivocally the catalyst for such retorts.


And so: the internal domes marked by the omnipresent minaret.

Aya Sofya (Sultanahmet, İstanbul)

...was built as a cathedral during the Byzantine Empire and later converted into a mosque after the Ottoman takeover. A tourist mob, yes. A relatively exquisite building, yes.


The Virgin Mary and baby-jee are on the center dome, adjacent to the archangel Gibrael (side panel).


Both of which hold mention in the Qu'ran and the Bible; the angel Gibreel being he who passed the revelation of the Qu'ran to Muhammad. That Aya Sofya was initially built as a church and then converted into a mosque, is of no correlation.


I know not the relevance of the birdman, though perhaps this is a contribution to me thinking his mural best.


Blue Mosque/Sultanahmet Camii (Sultanahmet, İstanbul)

Built in the early 1600's by Sultan Ahmed, the colour reference in the popular name is about as convoluted of a proper noun as the formal one.



Yeni Camii (Sirceçi, İstanbul)

One of the many mosques that dot the horizon in İstanbul. The massive circular shields of Arabic script vie hard for my love.




Ulu Camii (Bursa)

Just over the Sea of Marmara about three hours from Istanbul is Bursa; a modern/ prosperous/liberal/etc city and the beholder of this exquisite domed gem.

Towering murals of Islamic calligraphy and a mesmerizing game of thought association.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

nargileh.


snake spirits coiling as to manifest the genie's bottle.


the swords of battle unifying into a candelabra///

the decomposition of Ganesha into an abundance of eyes and spirit matter.


the captured filigree of anguish.


+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

We're probably only at twenty minarets.

istanbul

Istanbul. A city, in a country, where you can't speak Hindi. Despite the sweeping attempts my cerebral cortex has made to assume this possible, it's just really not that feasible that it would be even remotely effective.


Istanbul. Constantinople. Byzantium.


Where in the above geographical-historical references was there even a vague allusion to Devengari script, or Indo-Aryan language umbrellas?

Türkey. Language: Türkish (predominant). Hero: Atatürk. Street that runs at least once through every mid-sized urban center: Atatürk Caddesi.

Sleep now, Mahatma. For awhile.


I got into Sabiha Gokçen Airport just after 3 am, and hypothesized that gettıng to a dwelling in which I could comfortably (amicably) sleep would straddle somewhere between arrivıng in Singapore and Delhi (another comparison, to India)?

I hoped for the former, as in such dead-of-night flight arrivals, energy reaks of low reserve and requests a (generally self-instigated) face punch to get you on board for the commute.


But conclusively, getting to Sultanahmet choose to be whimsically seamless:

[Singapore - - - - - - Istanbul - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Delhi]

I fell asleep at 6 am and awoke at 2 pm. An hour later I found myself watching fisherman on the Bhosphorous, having consumed my first meal of chick peas and rice dısplayed for sale in an aquarium.


I wondered the city by day and found myself by night at a tea and nargileh (sheesah) house hidden behind a graveyard.

I have no pictures of being scrubbed (naked) at a Hamam by a middle-aged Turkish woman (also naked), whom I presume wears a headscarf in the street, though this was grand.

Taksim Square

I do have pictures of. This is where the commercial avenue of Istiklal Cadessi (metropolitan, cosmopolitan, east-meets-west, et al) gives way to a square of nationalism and circling bus routes.


I sat here, drank tea, and thought of nargileh.


Turkish flags are ubiquitous, this triad of trees and pots I saw just once.