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I have gazed over you from a hill dear İstanbul,
I have not seen any place that I have not been and not liked.
Come and sit on the throne of my hearth so long as I live,
To love only a piece of you is worth a life time.
Yahya Kemal Beyatlı

“If the world was a single nation, its capital would have been İstanbul.” These are the words of Napoleon Bonaparte. Interestingly, most of the land once ruled by Napoleon is now under a single flag, European Union. But İstanbul is waiting at the doorstep of it. On the other hand, one of the fundamental missions of the EU, namely integration of the peoples, exists and has been applied in İstanbul for centuries. Think, for example, while the people of Europe were fighting, one could hear Armenian, Greek, Latino among Turkish at the Balat and Cifit Bazaar. An ambience where the Greek tavern keeper, Albanian deli, Bosnian hardware dealer, Armenian jeweler, Arab kebab seller, Laz fish manger and Jewish textiles merchant all supporting each other in their life struggle. I believe that the high level of warmth in everyday relationship flow out from this well rooted tradition of tolerance.

There is a proverb “It is no to tell but to live.” It is the best phrase to describe İstanbul. The life is present at every street of it. Tens of cultures, languages and thousands of lives including the rich, the poor, students, officers, liberals, conservatives are intermingled in the city. The colors of the city teach life to the human. You will find good, bad, beautiful and ugly, in other words, the life itself. It is such a city that the visible things on roads are interwoven with invisible. The remains of the centuries have been culminated, creating mysteries and indefinable love in İstanbul. So many mysteries rest in the heart of İstanbul. This city has witnessed so many incidents over the centuries.
The cultures have cohabitated in İstanbul for centuries. It is a real richness despite the random “regrets.” An astringency stems from these regrets. If only “the sun had never risen on September 6”, “the exchange of population had never occurred” “the minorities had never migrated” “popular culture had not ground İstanbul” “Rapid and unplanned immigration from Anatolia had not overburdened İstanbul” If these situations had not taken place, would İstanbul, which is undeniably a cultural capital, not be a richer?
No matter how good you are at writing or how much you trust in your words, it is very hard to describe İstanbul. With an enthusiasm, you get so excited that you would like to write as if you are chatting when you are writing on İstanbul. There remains neither form nor emphasis nor punctuation during writing. The same situation is valid for these lines you have just started to read. This is an İstanbul writing which jumps from one subject to another like the city itself.
“I am listening to İstanbul, my eyes are closed.” said the poet. So does man listens to İstanbul. Even when blindfolded, taken to the far reaches of the world, then brought back and put in the middle of the city, he will say “Ah, here I am, back in İstanbul again” without seeing, only by hearing. The sounds of İstanbul are different than the other cities. And then, after opening your eyes, you recognize her from her colors that are complex, blurred, overlapping, nested and full of life. Like a colorful ebru or the unbelievable harmony of adverse colors. You can also recognize İstanbul from her smell. It smells yearning; it smells hope; it smells disappointment and it reproaches your loneliness to your face with its every aspect. This city looks innocent. Every morning she wakes up as a sinless girl. But at night like a mature woman she sleeps to sins. If you are from İstanbul, you know that no other city can be commuted with it. Even one part of the city doesn’t resemble another; or a day doesn’t resemble another in this city of paradoxes. Whoever lives in one part, the other parts are alien. “I am a taxi from the other side.” Ah yes, the sea separates the city. And that sea€¦One side is busy, crowded, dirty and turbid port; the other side is separated from the sky by the pines. All sides of it are limitless. That sea is the perfect harmony of blue and green and the most beautiful sunsets can be seen in its horizon. On some parts, minarets of the mosques penetrate the sky, on some parts the needles of pines. Maybe the sun dives flatly into the water; the sea and the sky unite. In İstanbul you shouldn`t miss the joy of moonlight. The genuine treasure of İstanbul is the cohabitation of ezan and bell songs. In İstanbul a Christian crosses with ezan. In İstanbul the seagulls like simit (ring-shaped savory roll covered with sesame seeds).
As roaming around the streets, you follow the traces of the history. I could not ignore the history of individuals such as drunkard Cengiz. He was a mechanical engineer hidden behind the dirty clothes and the drunkenness; this man who won a prize abroad for his poems, can tell several things relating to life. I could not recall Anahit while passing through Çiçek Passage. The long rhythms of Anahit whose accordion were the noise of Beyoglu for years are still echoing in the area. Although Imrozlu Yorgo Baba of Nevizade is no longer exist there are many other enjoyable figures. My favorite one, for example, is the long bearded gentleman who wears a felt hat with flower, large cravat, a jacket with several badges. He wears sharp-nosed shoes and held rosary which has rosary pieces as big as an apple. He generally stands in front of a wall in Beyoglu for a long time. Who knows what he does and why he stands there. In short, you can find any kind of people you want in that city.
İstanbul gives hope. Her stones and soil have been known as gold since the old times. All the mighty Anatolia was fed with this hope. For it is the truth, İstanbul is rich in her own heart; she gave a place to every one who came. She created all kinds of hopes with her wisdom. Some are connected to her with love; some cursed but couldn`t leave İstanbul. Every one of them loved her unconditionally; İstanbul bewitched everybody.
İstanbul is still there standing erected, although the immigrations and shallow popular culture, which are inevitable outcomes of changes in the world and in Turkey, made İstanbul elder and polluted and saddened it. When I think of it I could not get angry at İstanbul despite its traffic, its problems and the other unwanted things. I could get offended from İstanbul. My anger passes away when I look at from Pierre Loti to Golden Horn or to Maiden`s Tower to Fortress or Bosporus or Princes Islands. The only unpardonable people are those who mistreat İstanbul. I never pardon the people who do not realize that living in İstanbul does not mean being an inhabitant of İstanbul. Is it the important thing, no matter the identity who you are, to work with clean heart became more wealth for the place where we living or love our foundation where we work and produce something, add something good for our loved ones aren`t that. I think it is. Every corner and part of Istanbul is valuable and gorgeous. It is so beautiful and it expects to receive praise, appreciation and tolerance as every beautiful thing does.