Dink, who is survived by his wife, Rakel, and their three children, was charming, soft-spoken and eloquent. He was respected and beloved by many Turks who disagreed with his views but admired his courage in stating them.
He was hated by just as many. [via]
When I wrote about Dink yesterday, I had written of the courage it takes to speak truth and the price one pays for it. I had written about how much of silly blogposts and dissertations we write lack that courage and that truth. I deleted those sentences because they sounded even more vacant and foolish than they seemed. After all, do I even have any truths? Last night, I rememebered what Faiz had said about people like me.
Love Carried Away It’s Criminals In Bonded Feet
Wearing as their necklace, the hanging rope
the singers kept on singing;
Wrapping around the feet, the clanging chains
the dancers kept on reveling;
We were neither in this procession, nor in that queue.
We stood by the roadside, staring,
being envious of them,
and crying, silently.
When we returned, we found the color of the flowers
once red, was yellow through and through.
We checked ourselves to find
instead of a heart, pain through and through.
Sometimes we imagined the iron ring around our neck.
Sometimes the chain danced across our feet.
And then one day, Love, dragged us away,
our neck in a rope and our feet in a chain,
in the same caravan.
Faiz Ahmed Faiz. Beirut, 1981.