Chapter 5: Losing A Loved One

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Mehmet:

I had always been a hardworker. You might think otherwise, considering I flunked my final year at uni and barely passed on the next attempt, but I studied in one of the best of the best universities in Istanbul on a scholarship! Yes, I studied on a scholarship.

Seeing the tough times my mother went through, someone had to provide for the family. If I would've become a junkie, and wouldn't have contributed anything, it wouldn't have been fair to my mom.

Which is why I tried hard. I worked hard because I wanted my mom to be happy and be proud of me. She was a beautiful person inside out, but her hardships and troubles easily reflected through the wrinkles on her skin and her grey hair, at only 42 years of age. And no, it wasn't genetic.

Seeing this broke my heart, and so I promised myself to do what it takes to see a smile on my mom's face. And so I did.

The grumpy old owner of the shop, Mr. Sami, really liked me. As much as he was grumpy, he was a really caring person. He treated me like a son. He was the father I never had. He did not have any children of his own, as his wife died at a very young age and he never remarried. After my breakup he was the only person whom I could confide in, considering my one and only friend back stabbed me. I held high regards for Mr. Sami too. I'd call him Baba (meaning father) or Abi (brother) at times. Often times we used to sit together at night and drink Raki and play songs on the saz (instrument). He taught me to play the saz too, which is something a father would normally do. I really looked up to him. I was his apprentice for the past 6 years and I worked really hard.

December 2018

It was a cold December night, when I got a call in the middle of the night from one of the shop owners. They told me Mr. Sami had suddenly collapsed and was unresponsive and was rushed to the hospital. He was in a critical condition.

I was in awe, I had just seen him 4 hours ago before packing up for the day. We even sat together and had some Raki before we called it a day and went home. And 4 hours later I was told he collapsed and was in a critical condition? I immediately hurried my way to the hospital, but I was too late, he was pronounced dead. I went into a state of shock.
"Doctor what happened to my Baba?" I asked

"Your Baba had a stroke, we tried our best to save him but when he reached the hospital it was already too late." Said the Doctor in charge, "are you his son?" He asked.

"No," I replied "he has no children."

"Could you call his wife or relatives to fill out the paperwork and get the body?" The Doctor replied rather insensitively.

"Excuse me? Do you not have any respect for the demised? How can you label him as a 'body'? How can you Doctors be so insensitive?!" I screamed at him.

"Nurse please take him out of here," the Doctor commanded, "I have another Emergency case to attend to." He said casually as if it was no big deal.

I was taken out of the ER as per the command of the Doctor, and was asked to fill in the paperwork since I did not know of the next of kin, while the insensitive Doctor called baba's regular Doctor to fill out the death certificate.

My baba was dead. I was left all alone once more. The person whom I confided in, the person whom I looked upto, my father figure, was taken away from me at God's will. And I was asked to stay patient through out.

I single handedly arranged his funeral. It was the least I could do. After he was burried according to the Islamic rituals, everyone got back to their old life. I was stranded. I was in severe depression for a good 6 months. I went to many therapists but it wasn't much help.

One fine day I received a call from a lawyer, at first I was puzzled as to why would a lawyer call me? But he told me that he was Mr. Sami's lawyer. What he said next left me in awe.

"Sami Bey made a will a few days before he died. In that will you are the new rightful owner of his shop."

I did nothing except cry over the phone. How could I accept this?

"Are you still with me?" The lawyer asked. "If possible could you come today to my office and sign the documents so that I can hand you the legal papers of the shop?"

I was in a state of shock. How could someone who has no biological linking with you, whatsoever, leave everything he ever owned to you?

"I'm sorry but I can't accept it," I replied "I don't have the right to."

"Mr. Sami was afraid you'd say that, but he asked me to tell you that this is what he wanted." The lawyer tried to convince me.

"I'll see." I replied.

I was in a dilemma. Would it be ethically and morally correct for me to take over his life earnings? But this is what he wanted. Maybe he was impressed by my hardwork or maybe he just loved me so dearly that he named the shop to me. Should I take it? Should I not? A thousand thoughts were racing through my mind. I had no one to ask what decision to take. My confidante wasn't with me anymore. So I took the decision whether right or wrong or morally incorrect.

I realized the only way I would come out of this depression was if I started working again. So I went to the lawyer that evening, signed the documents, and re-opened my baba's shop which was shut down for over 7 months now. And I started working again.

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