Realizing the truth in the realm of the jinn

All scholars who have grasped the secret of realizing the truth, the people of the pen, the people of recitation, some Sufis, and even those from the ranks of these individuals, sometimes travelers of the world, sometimes those who broadcast the world through an enlightened travelogue from the house of their own ancestors; they swear by the pen, the book, and the new path of positive reason that... there is no innocent girl, nor any male child, for whose forced death or lost mental faculties a single Fairy or Jinn is responsible.

Whoever makes a severe slander against the jinn, let it be known that the real suspect is either that cursed devil himself or a non-human creature under his protection. However, one way for the children of man to cast away the calamities in which they are helpless is to recite poems and write stories about the truth. The nature of these stories must be such that they leave a haunting effect in the memory of the listener. It is no wonder that in places where the people, helpless in their suffering and grief, have no intention of confrontation or punishment, believing in lies is preferable to everyone as it covers up their own faults in these tales.

But let this also be known: statements from people of conscience and reason who are sincere in their knowledge are rarely encountered. Those who sell their knowledge for mere pennies and a reputation built on fear are both numerous and compete with each other in ignorance; they do not hesitate for a moment to claim the exact opposite of the truth. This proverb is also published with the memoirs of a person of true knowledge, and in the hope of lifting the veil of hypocrisy and oblivion, the pen begins the story as follows...

It was a morning when the dawn refused to break; the twilight's purgatorial coolness stretched on and on, and the white fog had surrendered neither the earth nor the air to the sun. The boiling waters of the hot spring on the outskirts of the village would fog up the surroundings at these hours when they touched the morning chill. Every kind of creature, object, and nature grew heavier as they slept in the fog, and the clouds appearing on the earth swallowed all sounds. The noises coming from the other side of the road had disturbed the peace of the silence; the screech of rusty copper was of a kind that would discordantly upset the nerves of nature. The tabby cat by the edge of the bread oven, whose ashes were still warm, also got its share of the restlessness, opened its eyes, muttered a "la hawla," and curled up in its own fur, falling back asleep. The creaking, rusty copper fell silent when it reached the fountain and saw the ancient lion statue on the left side of the water. The young girl, whose ribs were almost countable through the thin flannel dress on her back, pushed the first bucket in front of the water with her thin-boned hands, perched on the wall behind the fountain, and began to wait in the mist. A harsh wind passed over the back of her flannel dress; her palms were blistered from carrying the buckets, and despite the chill on her back, her palms were burning like fire. She turned the palms of her hands toward the wind. Before the bucket was full, she wished to disappear right there, or at least curl up right there and sleep for a little while.

She had half-closed her eyes when a pitch-black bird took flight from the apple tree with a fluttering noise of wings. The water had already started to overflow; she tilted the bucket slightly to pour out some of the water, lifted it, and left it on the edge of the fountain, then pushed the second one in front of the water. A dense smell of smoke burned her throat; her mother-in-law must have lit the wood she had pushed under the black cauldron on the oven stones. She waited, waited a little longer... a little more... She took the second bucket and set off. She passed by gardens with wooden gates, houses with iron gates, and bread ovens; she set the loads down for a moment because of the pain in her hands, wiped her cold, red, wet fingers on the hem of her dress, and when she straightened her back to catch her breath, she caught the scent of a steaming hot tarhana soup spreading along with the smell of fire, and her heart ached with hunger. Who would put tarhana on the stove at this hour... she gripped her load again and set off.

Her mother-in-law had laid out the wool quilts and mattresses and was furiously stoking the black cauldron, whose fire had not gone out for three days; sheets, quilts, and mattress covers, everything was boiling away in the black cauldron. She had filled red and blue plastic basins with water and soaked the wool of all the quilts, mattresses, and pillows; she threw the wool, which she had frothed up by pounding with a mallet, onto the piled stones in the garden, and when the water drained, she hung them on the ropes at the foot of the garden wall. The bride had not closed the door completely when leaving the house. She pushed open the blurry gray door with the snake-head knocker. The waterless black cauldron had been stoked and was thoroughly heated by the fire. She loaded the first bucket and dumped it into the black cauldron; water sparks hissed and steamed as they splashed, and when she poured the second bucket, the cauldron's anger turned into a growl; the smoke of the fire that burned her throat had erased the scent of hot tarhana in her mind.

Six full moons had passed since Medeha became a bride in this house; it was a proposal after a few glances with the young man in the same neighborhood, then a wedding, and before she knew what was happening, her face was hidden behind red veils, and she had become the bride of a stranger's house she did not know; she could neither laugh nor talk like before, her childhood had been erased in a day, she was neither a woman nor a person, but a different state of being, a bride for no reason. She could not say she was hungry; she could only eat whatever bread was put in front of her; she was not a member of the household, and she was certainly not a child of the house.

Medeha was sixteen, and her husband was a child who had just turned nineteen. He was going to the army a week after the wedding; would a betrothed girl ever stay in her father's house? Besides, so much gold had been pinned on her, she had been taken and brought to the husband's house in a rush. Her mother-in-law tried very hard to prevent them from being alone. She battered her, beat her, cursed her with the worst words, but she could not control her adolescent son. When the wedding witnesses wanted to see the bloody sheet, the mother-in-law was forced to announce it to the people. Now, good luck to anyone who could silence the mother-in-law. She kept complaining about how she would hide this bride, whose virginity had been broken and whose husband had gone to the army, in this house for two years; she made the village ring with her wailing, saying, "This devil seduced my son as soon as she arrived." Although her behavior was cruel, there was some truth to the fear in her words. The young woman, known not to be a virgin, was like a wounded prey for the ill-intentioned men around, especially if the woman had no one to protect or look after her. For this very reason, while the neighbors and relatives whispered, they had all condemned the mother-in-law's tactlessness in unison. She was announcing to everyone around, by shouting and screaming, that there was a non-virgin, unprotected young woman in her house. Even though a few elderly aunts went to her door and said, "Medeha is an honorable girl, her roots and origins are known, do not worry yourself, and do not put the child's name on people's tongues," no one's power was enough to calm the woman's foaming rage.

In the early hours of the foggy morning, there was another shadow near the lion fountain; the torment Medeha had been suffering for months, her yellowing and fading face, her body melting day by day, had reached her ears through gossip. Sama Nene, who had known this girl since childhood, had left her house in the woods, quite far from the village, before dawn and come to the village to check on her. She had perched like a silent dove on the rock under the large walnut tree rising twenty steps behind the fountain, watching Medeha fill the buckets and head home. The despondent girl had not even noticed Sama. Sama was the village's jinn-haunted, jinn-knowing grandmother; although she was not very old, in the village, many women who had reached fifty would even have fifteen-year-old grandchildren. Even though the villagers said behind Sama's back that she was possessed by jinn, they would run to Sama first when something happened to them. She was the midwife of both that village and the surrounding villages. She knew herbs, roots, tree barks, certain stones, and even mushrooms that no one else knew very well. They said that because she was alone with the king of the jinn, she had learned both reading and writing and the language of herbs in the schools of the jinn.

Medeha had taken the sixth bucket and set off when Sama walked up and called out after Medeha. "Wait a minute, my girl, catch your breath, what is this state of yours? Six months ago you were smiling, you would laugh and talk with your peers, have you let the wind take your soul?" The girl said, "I am fine, grandmother," without putting down the water in her hand, pointing to the road home with fearful eyes, "The laundry is waiting for water." Sama said, "My girl, this state of yours is not washed away with laundry, nor cleaned with dishes, come sit here for a while and catch your breath, we will carry your bucket together, tell me, what happened to you?" The girl's color and complexion had faded, her face had turned a sickly yellow, dark circles had surrounded her eyes, her cheeks were sunken, her lips were dry, and her blood had drained from the cold. Medeha's throat tightened, her eyes filled with tears, but she did not cry.

"Grandmother," she said, "something has happened to me." After a moment of silence, she whispered in the lowest voice, "A jinn has come to me, grandmother, the 'Al Karısı' (a mythical female demon) or a 'Obruk' (a type of spirit) has pressed upon me, they said it happens to new brides, they pinned a safety pin to my chest, look here, it did no good, neither verse nor prayer, neither writing nor amulet. Some nights a pitch-black weight settles on me in my sleep, I scream in my sleep, no one hears my voice, my mother-in-law said, 'pray that the jinn's palm has a hole in it,' otherwise I would die right there."

"Were you asleep?" said Sama, "I was both asleep and not, my arms and wings were all broken, I couldn't even open my eyes because of the buzzing in my brain." "Tell me a little more, I know the jinn well, maybe it is a jinn I know, did this creature have a smell, hair, beard, height, voice, or a sign? If not, I will go and ask the king of the jinn, don't you be afraid at all." "Is it true, grandmother, ask, I will be your sacrifice, I have no strength left. My arms and legs are all bruised, I can't tell anyone." "Think well, Medeha, just give me a sign, whatever that wretched creature is, I will find it wherever it is, I will tie its hands and feet, think well, didn't it have a mark, a trace..."

"I couldn't see it at all, grandmother, it's a dark thing like a monster, it covers its hand over my face, I can't even breathe." "Did it make this red mark on the corner of your mouth?" "Yes, grandmother, it has an iron ring on its finger, when my mother-in-law saw my face, she said, 'the jinn have applied henna to her,' she had an amulet written by Satı woman, she told everyone 'this bride is possessed,' she tore my hair and veil, she said 'you dishonorable,' 'you shameless,' 'I will take you to your father's door and throw you away.' What dishonor did I commit, grandmother, they say wash, I wash, they say water, I run." "Well, what did your father-in-law say about this?" "I didn't understand at all, grandmother, he is a man who never looks at my face, he attacked my mother-in-law and kicked her, 'shut up, you old woman,' he said, 'I'll be the one to take you to your father's house.'"

Sama Nene shook her head, gripped her cane tightly with both hands, and struck the ground three times; the earth groaned where she struck...

"Ahh ahh," she said, "may the rock beneath you

may black clouds rain tar instead of water on your fields,

may your bread and yogurt not ferment,

may your bright days turn black, may your house and hearth be scattered.

May the hand reaching out to this innocent child turn to stone, may you remain without food or bread..."

Although the girl did not understand why Sama was so angry, she could not hold back the tears gathering in her eyes.

After a moment of silence, she said, "Well, don't they even give you bread and water, what is this state of your face, you've become as small as a spoon, you've turned into skin and bone?"

"No, they give me bread, my mother-in-law even gives me the leftovers from the table, but for more than a month, the food has always looked ugly to me, whatever I eat, my stomach churns, even if I drink water, my heart turns."

Sama's voice rose, "Doesn't a person know what or who enters their room in their sleep?" "What kind of sleep is this, if you say it's a scary dream, couldn't you leave a knife under your pillow, couldn't you put a lock on your door?"

"Wouldn't I, grandmother, of course I did, but I have no strength or power for my hand to reach for anything, my mother-in-law also took the key to the door. Cruel woman, but still, she checks on me every night, she boils 'new bride herb' for me, she stands over me so I drink it. And she recites prayers, 'If you drink this, the jinn won't visit you at night, and you won't faint during the day,' she says. But it did no good, whether it's the Al Karısı, a jinn, or an Obruk, it came again. My sleep and wakefulness, my dreams and visions are all mixed up. All sorts of creatures wander in my room, sometimes a viper with a cat's head and a snake's tail, sometimes a turkey with a chicken's head, my mother-in-law insisted, 'Let's take her to Kara Molla,' don't put me in Kara Molla's hands, grandmother. How they took the fresh bride out dead from his hands last year, I am your sacrifice, grandmother."

Sama shook her head and said, "I understand!" She stood up, using her cane for support. She put Medeha in front of her and headed toward her father-in-law's house. Suspecting the situation, she said to the girl, "You carry the water bucket anyway." When they reached the door, she didn't reach for the snake-shaped knocker on the door; she struck the door three times with her cane, as if breaking it with all her might, "Boom, boom, boom," the sound of the door echoed in the village square. Her father-in-law, with his giant stature, opened the door, "Did you come as a creditor, Sama, what is this noise?" he said. "I am a creditor, indeed," she said, sparks of fire coming from her eyes, her black eyes had turned into bloodshot basins. "I have work on the roof of my house, the bride girl will come to help me, and she will stay with me for seven days. There is a full moon, I will do work on the roof," she said. In the middle of the dirt garden, there was a hearth made of black stones, thoroughly blackened by soot; the fire was well stoked, and flames were shooting out from under the fairly large black cauldron on it. The mother-in-law, listening to what was being said at the door with one ear, forced a thick piece of wood under the cauldron and angrily stirred the laundry boiling in the black cauldron with the stick in her hand; the boiling steam of the white sheets was scattered into the air. When she heard where the conversation was going, with steam coming out of the wet stick in her hand, she tucked her skirt into her floral flannel trousers in anger, and without letting go of the stick, she crossed the huge garden in three steps, tearing her legs, and came to the door, "Oh," she said, "sister, where has it been seen for a young bride to stay overnight, even her mother and father can't call her, what happened to you?"

Sama Nene said, "Where has it been seen," she said, "for a new bride to be beaten because she is called possessed, where has it been seen for a fresh bride's soul to be drained as if she were dead. Did you take this girl in place of blood!" "She is possessed, mother, she is possessed," said the mother-in-law, "what did we do anyway. She was possessed when she arrived, her mother and father hid her fault, they threw her into our arms, if my son were here, we would have divorced her, of course, she became a trouble for us, may she never have been." The father-in-law grabbed his wife by the arm and threw her behind him, "You shut up," he said, "old woman." Then he said, "Yes," from above, "it's a human condition, what can we do, the jinn has visited the bride, it's not a fault, we will take her to Kara Molla tonight."

"Kara Molla doesn't understand this matter," said Sama, "this is not a jinn." "How do you know?" said the man, walking two steps toward Sama. Sama Nene pressed her cane against the man's chest and pushed him, "I know because jinn don't put iron rings on their fingers," she said, "jinn apply henna either to the feet or the hands, jinn don't leave marks on anyone's face with an iron ring, that's how I know," her voice echoed in the street. "I also know very well how the straight turns into crooked for those who act in the name of the jinn. Even if they don't know about this act, I will go to the king of the jinn and tell him, I know very well how to set all the heretic jinn upon that iron-ringed devil." "What iron ring, what are you talking about," said the man. Sama, pressing her knocker-stick against the man's chest again, said, "Look, look, sir, I hear what is not said, I see what is not seen, what happens in this house is clear to me." She looked at the ring on the monster-faced man's finger. "The Al Karısı has visited," she said, "this girl!" raising her voice. "A woman from the Al Karısı side is my sister in the afterlife, I will call her to my side, this bride will stay with me for seven days and seven nights, none of your eyes will touch her, none of your ears will hear. I will form a circle with the Al Karısı and find out who caused this harm, if it doesn't turn out as I fear and the Almighty Creator comes to our aid, I will hold all of you accountable for this matter one by one." The mountains that had settled on Medeha's shoulders had been lifted, she felt as light as a bird; Sama had snatched Medeha, whom her mother and father could not save by overpowering these rampant tyrants, in one go, and her heart was ready to leave this house from yesterday. "Grandmother," she said, with a childhood that showed she still didn't understand, "should I take my clothes with me?" "Don't," said Sama, "don't cross that threshold." She took Medeha behind her, kicked the water-filled buckets on the threshold of the door with her foot, and angrily spilled the water on the ground.

"I hope," she said, "this is the last drop of water that enters your threshold,

may your fruit wither on its branch,

may your white turn to black, your black turn to mud,

may your field and soil turn to stone,

may your water be tar, your fire be ash,

may God withhold His blessing from both your house and your life," she said,

From the door threshold, which was muddied by the water spilled from the bucket, she took a handful of mud and smeared it over the gray-painted iron door with her five fingers, "I have marked your threshold, sir," she said. "You, you be you, swallow both your voice and your breath and sit, otherwise, otherwise, it only takes one word from me, I will set my most heretic jinn upon you, I will scatter your house and hearth every night." The father-in-law staggered two steps back, and when Sama struck the door three more times with all her might with her cane, the black cauldron on the hearth overturned, the burning fires went out, the white laundry was covered in black ashes, the black soil was covered in ashy mud, both the father-in-law and the mother-in-law were thoroughly frightened, their faces turned deathly pale, their colors and complexions faded, their voices and breaths were silenced, with their eyes wide open, they looked at the cauldron and then at Sama's black eyes, which were spitting fire under her red hair; the overturning of the cauldron had sprinkled cool water on the hearts of both Sama and Medeha.

While Sama was raining down her curses, all the villagers were watching what was happening from behind their windows and doors. "You live in this village in so many houses, did not one of your consciences ache for this child?" Her voice echoed in the covered windows and closed doors; no one wanted to catch Sama's eye and get their share of the curses; everyone had witnessed what happened, and the whispers had already begun.

The poor girl, unaware of the trouble on her head, was holding the end of Sama Nene's black shawl that descended from her head to her waist; she was like a little girl holding her mother's hand, and they set off together,

To be continued...