As much as blues is a feeling, huzun is a color. One only has to spend a few days in Istanbul and quickly realizes that a patter appears. The yellow grey buildings, the faded yellow gray marble, the pigeon blood red tulips on beautiful plates, and the red flowing on every mast make out a map. Orange juice, and orange hidjabs spice up the mix but ultimately everything is reflected, connected, changed by the eternal Bosphorus blue. It is a blue of many shades: almost black in the evening, bright dark turquoise on some mornings and silvery blue very early when the ferries start their daily trips. One cannot rest immune to all this. Only very few days are in fact necessary to make a total stranger into an Istanbulu of sorts. You develop a habit. You follow a daily routine that is as much about unpredictable as about the constant ebb and flow of things and people, the sea and the seagulls. Have some tea, strong and intense as the pungent smell of the roses up on the high terrace between Top Kapi and the Bosporus. You can see Asia and smell its wind. You feel the Empire. Of all the little tea-houses and cafes I discovered in Istanbul - there must be thousands – my favorites where hidden in old cemeteries. No beer is served here as they sleep – this is holly ground my friend! But arkadash you should try the narghile it is good, it cleanses the soul. One more coffee and you are just a bit closer of understanding Huzun.
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