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“Goodbye Cappadocia,” said Nisha, waving child-like to the cave houses around the hotel.
The time had finally come. Nisha was leaving Cappadocia forever. But there were lots of fond memories and affection associated with this place that Nisha was certain she would always be grateful for.
There was a surprise waiting for them when they reached the hotel lobby to check out. There was Mr. Aslan with an autograph book in hand and grinning from ear to ear. Apparently he had googled their names and found out who they really were. He also insisted that they pose with him and his wife, minus their rimmed glasses. Raj and Nisha had no option but to smile and oblige.
Nisha couldn’t get Fatima out of her head. Her infectious enthusiasm had got to her. She remembered how they had danced together with such gay abandon. How they had shared their favourite list of romantic songs, and how they’d talked about the importance of family.
How Fatima had kept her hands over her belly and had declared nonchalantly, “I’m pregnant!”
“This is my husband’s gift to me,” Fatima had said proudly. Fatima had said that she wanted her child to be like Raj or Nisha. She’d wished that if she had a son, she’d wish him to be like Raj—loving his wife forever. If she had a girl, she’d wished the girl to be like Nisha—her eyes as adorable as Nisha’s. And again as totally committed to her husband, as Nisha was.
“You’ve been a great sport, Nisha. I know we’ve spent only a couple of days together but I feel so connected to you. Give me a hug,” Fatima had said while bidding her good bye.
Nisha was happy to hug her back. Fatima’s eyes had welled up for no apparent reason. Suddenly a tear dropped to her left cheek. Raj saw Fatima’s eyes and understood. That Fatima knew everything. She knew that Nisha was ill. Terminally ill. And that nobody could save her. That time was running out for her.
Fatima knew—why Raj had brought Nisha to this place. Fatima looked at Raj—just once and knew that—only his love could save Nisha. Nisha had not spoken a word about her illness. Not a word. But Fatima somehow could feel everything in her bones.
And when Raj looked at Fatima, he too knew—that Fatima had understood the two’s deepest secrets. Strange. How two people from different cultures could understand each other so completely without speaking a word? The mysteries of the human heart are difficult to unravel. We may say very little. Yet say everything.
“I’m not sure if we’ll met ever again,” said Fatima. Her voice was breaking and now she was crying. Nisha cried with her. Fatima took out a blue and white Turkish “evil eye.”
“Take this with you. In Turkey we believe that this small totem can protect you from evil forces. The legend comes from the Greek mythological story of Medusa. I feel so concerned for you. And Raj. Take this. This will protect you too,” said Fatima.
Nisha nodded. She took the “evil eye” and hugged Fatima again.
“Thank you so much. I’ll never forget you,” said Nisha.
Both cried. Tears started rolling down Raj’s cheeks too. The rationalist that he was, he didn’t believe that any evil eye totem could actually protect anyone. Belief in God, astrological predictions and evil eyes were all stupid arguments to make people believe that they could ward off the inevitable. Yet he was touched. Because of the feeling and concern of a total stranger behind the gesture.
Fatima kissed Nisha on her cheeks and on her forehead—in a very Turkish style. She then took out her visiting card.
“Here you go. This card contains my phone number and e-mail address. Do send me the video and the photos and do remain in touch,” said Fatima. She wiped away her tears.
Fatima looked at Raj.
“Do take care of Nisha. Only your love can conquer everything,” whispered Fatima.
“You too take care of yourself. It was great fun to have you around,” said Raj.
“May Allah bless the two of you. I’ll always pray for your happiness and well-being,” said Fatima. Her eyes filled up again. And then she was gone.
***
Raj and Nisha drove back to the Kayseri airport and took the flight to Izmir. From Izmir, they got in the car sent by the hotel and went straight to the ancient Greek city of Ephesus. Apparently Ephesus was a flourishing city with a population of 30,000 to 60,000 people in the Roman period. This made the city the third largest city of Roman Asia Minor.
Ephesus was also important for early Christianity. The House of Virgin Mary was located in Ephesus. The legend is that Virgin Mary was brought here by St. John before she died. Apostle Paul too had lived in Ephesus for a few years.
Raj and Nisha arrived at Ephesus around noon. They had a chicken sandwich each on the plane and didn’t feel like breaking for lunch immediately. The afternoon was warm, bright and sunny. It was actually much warmer than Cappadocia with temperatures hovering around 26 degrees Celsius (or in the mid-seventies Fahrenheit).
Both Raj and Nisha took off their heavy overcoats. Nisha was wearing a white hat, white blouse and jeans. Raj wore a yellow T-shirt and khaki cargo trousers. Unlike Cappadocia, Raj didn’t feel the need to hire a tourist guide. Instead he paid for two audio-visual (AV) guides and off they went to visit the ruins.
Nisha was very impressed to discover that the ancient city pavements were made of marble. She had to walk carefully because the marble was rather slippery. Occasionally, she leaned on Raj’s arms for support. Nonetheless, she was really awestruck with the ancient city’s display of wealth. Who can otherwise afford marble pavements these days? The streets were lined with magnificent columns.
Nisha soon came across the ruins of “terrace houses.” As the AV guide explained, the terrace houses were constructed by the wealthiest men of Ephesus. And no doubt the houses looked impressive. Every entrance of the house had beautiful mosaic floors which depicted intriguing scenes, of horses, mermaids, men with tridents, lions and all kinds of geometrical shapes.
“Raaaj, I wished I owned such a villa. I would have loved to decorate my house with such mosaic floors,” said Nisha pointing to the floors.
“I think the house would look great. But it will also give an impression that you are—er— probably a Roman,” said Raj.
“Point taken,” smiled Nisha.
On the opposite side, she saw the Temple of Hadrian. It was just a façade with two columns and a beautiful marble arch. Behind the arch, was the relief of a man. He had long flowing curly hair and was bare chested. There were leaves beneath the man. It wasn’t clear to Nisha whether he was a half man and half plant or whether he had sprouted from a plant.
Raj and Nisha moved forwards. They were soon standing in front of the Library of Celsus. Mind you NOT Celsius. The library had the most stunning façade in the whole of Ephesus. The first storey’s entrances were supported by eight columns, with two columns placed on either side of the entrance. There were four statues, one placed adjacent to every entrance. The second storey had three windows supported by eight columns but had no statues.
As per the AV guide, the library was built in honour of the Roman Senator Tiberius Julius Celsus Polemaeanus. Wow, the Romans had such complicated names, thought Nisha. She got excited for a moment that the Roman Senator was—Julius Caesar. But then was disappointed when she realised that it wasn’t Julius Caesar but some other Julius Celsus. Not Caesar. Not Celsius. But Celsus. What a shame!
The library was completed by Celsus' son, Gaius Julius Aquila (another complicated name). It was built to store 12,000 scrolls.
Woooooooooowwwwww, thought Nisha. It was a shame that the library had collapsed because of an earth quake. She could imagine how wonderful it would have been to spend hours in the library admiring the architecture and devouring your favourite books.
Then Nisha learnt that Celsus was buried in a crypt just beneath the library.
“Yikes,” thought Nisha as she pictured Celsus’ skeleton somewhere under the façade.
“Raj, these Roman Senators had such difficult names. Julius Celsus—the what??? Gaius Julius??? — Blah, blah, blah. I think from now onwards I’ll call you Julius Rajsus Maniacus,” laughed Nisha.
“You rascal,” said Raj gently hitting her on her back.
Raj and Nisha moved on till they reached the great amphitheatre of Ephesus. The amphitheatre was built on the foot of the mountain. It was circular in shape and looked huge enough to host up to 25,000 spectators.
Raj and Nisha sat on one of the stone seats at the top of the theatre. Raj was surprised that the stone seats were pretty comfortable to sit on. Nisha could picture plays being performed in the centre of the theatre while the audience cheered loudly. In those days, actors, even men, wore high heels so that they appeared taller.
The Romans had renovated the amphitheatre and used it for blood-thirsty gladiator fights. Nisha imagined two bulked up men with long flowing hair wearing heavy armour and helmets, carrying swords and shields and fighting each other to death. She pictured ferocious lions and tigers being released to devour hapless people. She imagined a Roman Emperor giving his thumbs down to indicate that the defeated person was now to be sent to the other world. That sent a shiver down her spine.
After Ephesus, the car driver drove them to the Temple of Artemis. It was considered as one of the seven wonders of the ancient world but Nisha was disheartened to find only ONE marble column standing at the place. The rest of the building was apparently destroyed in a raid by Goths in 268 A.D.
Nisha was now feeling quite exhausted. So Raj and Nisha sat down near a shop and ordered the famous Dondurma or Turkish ice-cream. As she took a bite of the cold—stretchable—chewy ice-cream, she felt some of her lost energy coming back.
The highlight of the Ephesus trip were the public toilets, called “Latrina.” Raj had never seen Nisha laugh so much at her first sight of those “public conveniences,” as they are called so officiously in India.
The squat toilets were all aligned along the ancient stone walls. There were no flushes but the facility had quite a sophisticated drainage system.
Interestingly there were no partitions or cubicles. So there was no privacy. Apparently only the very rich could afford to have exclusive bathrooms to themselves in their terrace houses.
What surprised Nisha the most was that even then the rich preferred to use the community toilets instead of their private bathrooms. Why? For socialising, of course. At least this was the reason given by her audio visual guide.
Nisha laughed, and laughed. Those poor extroverts. They always needed a reason to socialise. These days you eat out, drink or as they say, just chill in some park. In those days, they just sh*t out, together!
Nisha’s imagination was running wild. So could they hear each other’s bowel movements over the sound of running waters below the latrinas? Did they comment on the consistency of their stools? Did they sympathise if you were constipated or had diarrhoea?
No. It was much worse. As per the AV Guide, they discussed business, politics and philosophy! How intellectual!
And when she saw Raj’s straight face, Nisha laughed even more. She replayed the latrina topic again and again on her audio visual guide just for entertainment.
Raj took out his digital camera and clicked pictures of Nisha doubling up with laughter.
