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An intensely powerful new novel from the best-selling author of The Bastard of Istanbul and Honour
'In the first minute following her death, Tequila Leila's consciousness began to ebb, slowly and steadily, like a tide receding from the shore. Her brain cells, having run out of blood, were now completely deprived of oxygen. But they did not shut down. Not right away...'
For Leila, each minute after her death brings a sensuous memory: the taste of spiced goat stew, sacrificed by her father to celebrate the long-awaited birth of a son; the sight of bubbling vats of lemon and sugar which the women use to wax their legs while the men attend mosque; the scent of cardamom coffee that Leila shares with a handsome student in the brothel where she works. Each memory, too, recalls the friends she made at each key moment in her life - friends who are now desperately trying to find her. . .
305 pages, Kindle Edition
First published June 1, 2019
" فى بعض الاحيان , يكون المكان الذى تشعرين انه الاكثر أماناً هى اقل الأمكنة التى تنتمين اليها "
" فى عقل كل انسان سليم أثر من آثار الجنون و فى اعماق الجنون تومض بذرة التعقل و الاستبصار "
" إن وجود صديق واحد يعد ضربة حظ ، واذا نعمت بالسعادة الروحية ، فصديقان او ثلاثة . واذا ولدت تحت سماء مرصعة بأشد النجوم لمعانا فخمسة - وهذا أكثر مما يكفي طوال العمر . وليس من الحكمة ان يبحث المرء عن أصدقاء أكثر ، لئلا يخاطر بفقدان من هم أصدقاؤه في الأصل"
" الحب لا يعنى شيئاً إن لم يكن مداواة لألم غيره و كانه ألمه هو "
In the first minute following her death, Tequila Leila’s consciousness began to ebb, slowly and steadily, like a tide receding from the shore. Her brain cells, having run out of blood, were now completely deprived of oxygen. But they did not shut down. Not right away. One last reserve of energy activated countless neurons, connecting them as though for the first time. Although her heart had stopped beating, her brain was resisting, a fighter till the end. It entered a state of heightened awareness, observing the demise of her body but not ready to accept its own end. Her memory surged forth, eager and diligent, collecting pieces of a life that she was speeding to a close. She recalled things she did not even know she was capable of remembering, things she believed to be lost forever. Time became fluid, a fast flow of recollections seeping into one another, the past and present inseparable.
‘How did you end up here [in a brothel]” men always asked. And each time Leila told them a different story, depending on whatever she thought they might like to hear … But she wouldn’t do that with D/Ali and he never asked the question anyhow. Instead he wanted to know other things about her - what did breakfasts taste like when she was a child in Van, what were the aromas that she remembered most vividly from winters long gone, and if she were to give cities a scent, what would be the scent of Istanbul. If ‘freedom’ were a type of food .. how did she think she would experience it on the tongue? And how about ‘fatherland”. D/Ali seemed to perceive the world through favours and scents, even the abstract things in life, such as love and happiness. Over time it became a game they played together, a currency of their own: they took memories and moments, and converted them into tastes and smells.
"She was a foreigner and, like all foreigners, she carried with her the shadow of an elsewhere."