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Profile | Jaklin Çelik

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Mavi Boncuk | Jaklin Çelik

Born in Diyarbakır in 1968. She settled in Kumkapı, Istanbul with her family at a young age. She studied at the Surp Mesropyan Armenian Primary School in Gedikpaşa and the middle section of Çemberlitaş Girls High School. Later, she entered business life.

Her stories and interviews were published in magazines Öküz, Fesat, Varlık, Haliç Edebiyat, and her interviews were published in Cumhuriyet Magazine, Sky Life, Liderler and Finans Dünyası. 

She worked as the press and publication page editor for the Armenian-Turkish newspaper Agos [1] in Istanbul for one year. She published her articles in her column called “Keman Çalan Balıklar” (Fish Playing Violin). In 1999, she was selected as “remarkable” by entering the top four in the Yaşar Nabi Nayır Story Competition organized by Varlık Publications. 

In 2000, her first book, Kum Saatinde Kumkapı [2], was published by Aras Publications, which was later translated into English. The second book, The Way of the Snake, was published by Aras Publishing in 2003.

[1]  Agos was founded in 1996 by Hrant Dink and a group of his friends, in order to report the problems of the Armenians of Turkey to the public. It is the first newspaper in the Republican period to be published in Turkish and Armenian. Agos's editorial policy focuses on issues such as democratization, minority rights, coming to terms with the past, the protection and development of pluralism in Turkey. As a newspaper that has emerged from within the Armenian community of Turkey, Agos aims to further open its pages to the issues of Turkey and the world. As independent journalism and freedom of expression face increasing restriction in Turkey, Agos also acts as an independent platform for debate.

[2] Kum Saatinde Kumkapı | Kumkapı in the Hourglass

Jaklin Çelik takes us on an emotional and lively journey into the people, houses, streets and past of Kumkapı, the historical district of Istanbul.

The tiles that had been asleep for years resisted the blows, they became even tighter together. Happiness became sadness, experiences became unlived, days became weeks, months became years, never letting go of each other. It wasn’t long before they lowered the terrace down. The bay-windowed floor no longer had a ceiling. The four walls were completely exposed. Are only people ashamed of their nakedness that shouldn’t be ashamed of, aren’t houses ashamed? Don’t objects have any value in us?

In Kumkapı, Jaklin Çelik takes us on an emotional and vivid journey into the people, houses, streets and past of Kumkapı, the historical district of Istanbul. These stories, which tell of the struggle for life, the texture of the city, different identities and intersecting lives, are the first products and first excitements of Çelik’s literary adventure…

ISBN 9789750531903
First Published- October 202
108 pages 

House for Rent

The young woman stopped in front of the wooden house with bay windows. She looked up and down the four-story building. The child she was holding was so tiny in front of the two-winged wooden door. The woman thought, “This is probably it.” She pulled the rope next to the door twice and then let it go; the bell struck three or four times. The child stared at the rope, but despite all her efforts, she could not see the bell that made the sound. The young woman quickly put her clothes back on. She checked to see if the handkerchief in the child’s pocket was still there. “If your nose runs, wipe it, girl, okay?” The child nodded as if to say, “Okay.” She put her hand in her pocket and held on tightly to her handkerchief. In no time, the wide, huge wooden door opened with a “shlink” and then a “shlank” sound. The rope hanging from the hole in the ceiling was connected to the latch of the lock on the opening wing of the door. Thus, when the rope was pulled from above, the iron latch would be released from the rail on the fixed wing of the door and opened wide. The child felt the cool air hitting his face when the door opened, the view he saw was mesmerizing. His mother stepped into the high-ceilinged marble stony place and slowly pushed the wooden door back into place. This time the door closed with a “slap” sound. Two wooden staircases on the right and left led up to the first floor. The two stone steps in front of them led down to a two-square-meter landing with two wooden doors, two small compartments on the right and left. These compartments, which were previously used as bathrooms, were made using the stairwell and were now used as woodsheds. The footsteps of someone slowly descending the stairs were heard. “The landlord, I guess,” the woman thought. When they descended to the second large stony place with a single step, the child slowly wriggled out of his mother’s hands and headed toward the garden door on the far left. The sunlight was hitting his face along with the smell of humidity inside. Immediately to the left, a colorful plate caught his eye on the spider-infested stone shelf on the wall. When he reached out to pick it up, the plate had already fallen to the ground. From behind, an old, low, high-pitched voice said, “Don’t touch it, look what you’ve done!” When she shouted, the first thing the child saw was the embarrassed expression on his mother’s face. The young woman bit her lower lip, picked up the plate from the floor and carefully placed it on the shelf, on the clean circle among the dust. When the little boy looked into the eyes of the old woman who owned the voice, he didn’t like her facial expression at all, as much as her voice. The woman’s body was rigid under her light-colored dressing gown, her hands were shaking. He understood that this woman with snow-white hair and cotton skin didn’t like him very much. She had already made it abundantly clear. The old woman turned to the young woman who had come to rent the house and said, “I don’t want a family with children in my house,” in one fell swoop. There was no accusation in the young woman’s facial expression against her child who was clinging to her skirt anymore. The old woman definitely didn’t want children in her house. Any attempt to convince her would be in vain. How could she say that her two other children wanted to come with her and that she had left them at home out of shame in the face of this harsh outburst? The short silence was broken by the sound of slippers coming down the wooden steps. “Digin Azat, ur es?”1 “Hos em Kayane, yegur!”2 The child opened his eyes wide. He listened to the footsteps. Someone speaking a language he did not understand was getting closer. Before the face of this second old woman, he fixed his eyes on her black fishnet slippers. Kayane turned to Azat and asked in the accent of the Armenians of Istanbul, “They came for the house?” Azat only said, “Well…” with an air of dissatisfaction. After receiving this answer, Kayane asked the young woman, “Are you a man?”. Startled, he immediately began to correct his question. “So are you Armenian, I meant…” The young woman seemed a little annoyed by this question. “My husband is a man, I am an Assyrian.” This time the eyes of the two old women opened wide. Two pairs of astonished eyes stared at the young woman. Kayane asked, “Are you baptized too?” “Of course, like all Christians.” The young woman who came to rent the house was surprised by this question that she could not understand, and was looking at the two old women. Kayane pulled herself together immediately. “Forgive our ignorance, my daughter. Neither Azat nor I have met a Syriac before. Is the boy yours?” The tense atmosphere softened a little with this question. “Not a boy, a girl,” said the young woman. Kayane’s eyes were moist behind her pince-nez glasses. When she approached the child and kissed her on the cheeks, the smell of humidity in the stony place was overpowered by the smell of naphthalene and garlic. She turned to the young woman: “Are there any other children?” The young woman answered in an instant, “There is a girl older than this and a boy in the house.” Kayane turned to Azat and said, “Azat ka!  Our house will be joyful!” Azat looked at Kayane’s face expressionlessly. He was angry. The young woman quickly began to list the good qualities of her children. At that moment, the little girl took a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her nose that was not running. As she did this, she looked the shrill-voiced old woman in the eye. The landlady, Azat Hanım, reluctantly agreed to rent her house to a family with three children. Then she began to list her conditions one by one. “The stairs and the stony area will be wiped every week. The wooden cloth will be wrung out well. If the cloth remains wet, the stairs will rot because they are wooden, and the floor of the stony area is marble so they will turn into mud when stepped on. The windows of the stony area facing the street will be wiped once a month and the spiders will be removed. No closing the door quickly. The children will go up and down the steps slowly. No using my house like a street! Other than that, we can talk once we settle down. There’s not much I can think of right now…” Kayane turned and said with a slightly embarrassed expression, “Don’t scare the girl so much, she’ll think you hired a maid.” Azat glared at Kayane. The young woman immediately jumped in. “Okay, I accept.” Kayane was relieved. Naturally, no one knew about what would happen that day. How could it be? Who could have known that five years later, this young woman whom old Azat was speaking to so gruffly would adopt; that the young woman would live in that house for thirty years and that she would not want to sell the house she inherited just because of her memories of Azat. The easiest guess for that day was; It was that Azat and the little girl would never warm up to each other. And even as the step-grandmother spent her last days in the hospital bed, those first unnamed glances would never be erased from the child’s memory. Kayane, on the other hand, would receive the answer to the question she asked her beloved little one, “Will you forget me if I die?” more than enough after her untimely death. None of them knew all of this that day… The little girl could now go out into the garden. But the first step she took over the threshold stirred that shrill, old voice once again: “Don’t step on those places! You’ll bring the mud in!”

Öküz, August 22, 1996

Kiralık Ev

Genç kadın, cumbalı ahşap evin önünde durdu. Dört katlı binayı aşağıdan yukarıya süzdü. Elini tuttuğu çocuk, iki kanatlı tahta kapının önünde ufacık kalıyordu. Kadın, “Herhalde burası,” diye düşündü. Kapının yanındaki ipi iki defa çekip bıraktı; çıngırak üç-dört defa vurdu. Çocuk, gözlerini ipe dikti, bütün çabalarına rağmen sesi çıkaran çıngırağı göremedi. Alelacele üstüne başına son bir çekidüzen verdi genç kadın. Çocuğun cebindeki mendilin yerinde durup durmadığını kontrol etti. “Burnun akarsa sil kızım, olur mu?” Çocuk “olur” dercesine başını salladı. Elini cebine sokup mendilini sıkı sıkıya tuttu. Çok geçmeden, geniş, kocaman tahta kapı önce “şlink” sonra “şlank” sesiyle aralandı. Tavandaki delikten sarkan ip, kapının açılan kanadındaki kilidin diline bağlıydı. 

Böylelikle, ip yukarıdan çekildiğinde, demir dil kapının sabit kanadı üzerindeki raydan kurtulup ardına dek açılıyordu. Çocuk, kapı açıldığında yüzüne vuran serin havayı hissetti, gördüğü manzara büyüleyiciydi. Annesi, yüksek tavanlı mermer taşlığa adımını attı, tahta kapıyı yavaşça yerine itti. Bu defa kapı “şlank” sesiyle kapandı. Sağlı sollu iki tahta merdiven yukarıya, birinci kata çıkıyordu. Önlerinde duran iki taş basamak, iki metrekarelik, sağında ve solunda iki küçük bölmenin bulunduğu iki tahta kapılı sahanlığa iniyordu. Daha önce banyo olarak kullanılan bu bölmeler, merdiven boşluğundan yararlanılarak yapılmıştı ve şimdi odunluk olarak kullanılıyorlardı. Merdivenlerden ağır ağır inen birinin ayak sesleri duyuldu. “Ev sahibi herhalde,” diye düşündü kadın. Tek basamakla ikinci büyük taşlığa indiklerinde, çocuk usulca annesinin elinden sıyrılıp sol dip kısımdaki bahçe kapısına yöneldi. Güneş ışıkları içerideki nem kokusuyla birlikte yüzüne vuruyordu. Hemen solda, duvarın üzerindeki örümcek tutmuş taş rafta renkli bir tabak ilişti gözüne. 

Elini uzatıp almak istediğinde tabak yere düşmüştü bile. Arkadan, yaşlı, kısık, tiz bir ses, “Dokunma ona, bak ne yaptın!” diye bağırdığında, çocuğun ilk gördüğü, annesinin yüzündeki o mahcup ifade oldu. Genç kadın alt dudağını ısırarak, tabağı yerden aldı ve rafa, tozların arasındaki temiz kalmış dairenin üzerine özenle yerleştirdi. Küçük çocuk, sesin sahibi yaşlı kadınla göz göze geldiğinde, sesi gibi yüz ifadesi de hiç hoşuna gitmedi. Kadının açık renk sabahlığının altındaki vücudu kaskatı kesilmiş, elleri titriyordu. Bembeyaz saçlı, pamuk tenli bu kadının, kendisinden pek hoşlanmadığını anlamıştı. Zaten bunu fazlasıyla belli de etmişti. Yaşlı kadın evi kiralamak için gelen genç kadına dönüp, “Ben evimde çocuklu aile istemiyorum,” dedi bir çırpıda. 

Genç kadının yüz ifadesinde, eteğine yapışmış duran çocuğuna karşı bir suçlama yoktu artık. Yaşlı kadın evinde kesinlikle çocuk istemiyordu. Onu ikna etme girişimleri bosuna olacaktı. Bu sert çıkış karşısında, iki çocuğunun daha kendisiyle gelmek istediğini, utanma belasına onları evde bıraktığını nasıl söyleyebilirdi... Kısa süren sessizliği, tahta basamaklardan aşağı inmekte olan terlik sesleri bozdu. “Digin Azat, ur es?”1 “Hos em Kayane, yegur!”2 Çocuk, gözlerini fal taşı gibi açtı. Ayak seslerini dinledi. Anlamadığı bir lisan konuşan biri giderek yaklaşıyordu. Bu ikinci yaşlı kadının suratından önce siyah file terliklerine dikti gözlerini. Kayane, Azat’a dönerek, İstanbul Ermenilerinin şivesiyle, “Ev için geldiler?” diye sordu. Azat memnuniyetsizlik belirten bir edayla, “E he...” demekle yetindi. Kayane bu cevabı aldıktan sonra genç kadına, “Haysınız?”3 dedi. Şaşalayarak sorusunu düzeltmeye koyuldu hemen. “Yani Ermeni misiniz, demek istedim...” 

Genç kadın bu sorudan biraz sıkılmış gibiydi. “Kocam Hay, ben Süryaniyim.” Bu defa iki yaşlı kadının gözleri fal taşı gibi açıldı. Şaşkın bakan iki çift göz genç kadına dikildi. Kayane, “Siz de vaftiz oluyorsunuz?” diye sordu. “Tabii ki, bütün Hıristiyanlar gibi.” Evi kiralamaya gelen genç kadın, anlam veremediği bu soruya şaşırmış, iki yaşlı kadına bakıyordu. Kayane kendini hemen toparladı. “Bilgisizliğimizi bağışla kızım. Azat da, ben de daha önce bir Süryani’yle tanışmamıştık. Oğlan senindir?” 

Gerginleşen ortam bu soruyla biraz yumuşamıştı. “Oğlan değil, kız,” dedi genç kadın. Kayane’nin kelebek gözlüklerinin arkasındaki gözleri nemliydi. Çocuğa yaklaşıp onu yanaklarından öptüğünde, taşlıktaki nem kokusunu naftalin ve sarmısak kokusu bastırdı. Genç kadına döndü: “Başka çocuk var mı?” Genç kadın bir çırpıda, “Bundan büyük bir kız, bir de oğlan var evde,” diye yanıtladı. Kayane, Azat’a döndü, “Azat ka!4 Desene evimiz şenlenecek!” dedi. Azat ifadesiz baktı Kayane’nin suratına. Sinirlenmişti. Genç kadın çabucak çocuklarının iyi özelliklerini saymaya başladı. 

O sıra küçük kız cebinden mendilini çıkarıp akmayan burnunu sildi. Bunu yaparken, tiz sesli yaşlı kadının gözlerinin içine içine bakıyordu. Ev sahibesi Azat Hanım evini üç çocuklu bir aileye kiralamaya gönülsüzce razı oldu. Ardından, şartlarını bir bir sıralamaya başladı. “Her hafta merdivenler ve taşlık silinecek. Tahta bezi iyice sıkılacak. Bez sulu kalırsa merdivenler tahta olduğu için çürür, taşlığın zemini de mermer olduğu için üzerlerine basıldığında çamur olur. Taşlığın sokağa bakan camları ayda bir kez silinecek, örümcekler alınacak. Kapıyı hızlı kapatmak yok. Çocuklar basamakları yavaş inip çıkacaklar. Evimi sokak gibi kullanmak yok! Onun dışında hele bir yerleşin de konuşuruz. Şimdi aklıma pek fazla bir şey gelmiyor...” Kayane döndü, biraz mahcup bir ifadeyle, “Kızı bu kadar korkutma, eve hizmetçi aldığını zannedecek,” dedi. Azat ters ters baktı Kayane’ye. Genç kadın hemen atıldı. 

“Tamam, kabul ediyorum.” Kayane rahatlamıştı. O gün, doğal olarak, ileride olacaklardan hiç kimsenin haberi yoktu. Nasıl olabilirdi ki? Kim bilebilirdi, yaşlı Azat’ın tersleyerek konuştuğu bu genç kadını beş yıl sonra evlat edineceğini; genç kadının otuz yıl boyunca o evde oturacağını, kendisine miras kalan evi sırf Azat’a bağlı anılarından dolayı satmak istemeyeceğini. O gün için kestirmesi en kolay olan; Azat ile küçük kızın birbirlerine hiçbir zaman ısınamayacaklarıydı. Ve üvey anneanne hastane yatağında son günlerini geçirirken bile, adı konulmadık o ilk bakışmalar çocuğun hafızasından sonsuza dek silinmeyecekti. Kayane ise çok sevdiği ufaklığa sorduğu, “Ben ölürsem beni unutur musun?” sorusunun yanıtını zamansız ölümünden sonra fazlasıyla alacaktı. Bütün bunları o gün hiçbiri bilmiyordu... Küçük kız artık bahçeye çıkabilirdi. Fakat eşikten dışarı attığı ilk adım, o tiz, yaşlı sesi yine harekete geçirdi: “Basma oralara! Çamuru içeri getireceksin!” 

Öküz, 22 Ağustos 1996

1 (Erm.) “Azat Hanım, neredesin?” 

2 (Erm.) “Buradayım Kayane, gel!” 

3 [=Hay mısınız? =Ermeni misiniz?] Ermenicede “mi/mu” gibi soru ekleri olmadığı için sorular ses tonu değiştirilerek sorulur. Kayane’nin sorusu Türkçeyle harmanlanarak konuşulan İstanbul ağzına güzel bir örnek oluşturuyor.

4 İstanbul Ermenicesinde, kadınlara yönelik, “be, ayol” anlamında hitap.




He had returned to Istanbul, to his street and house that he had not visited for years, to bury an old ghost. In his pocket; a lock of hair of a little boy who was separated from his mother and siblings in Harput, now wanting to return to his owner and land, placed between an old newspaper…

EXCERPT " On the “Night of Weeping” before Easter, at one point during the “Lord, Have Mercy” prayer, which was sung forty times in succession, one of the deacons gave a hard kick to a rat that he had been following with his eyes for a while. “Lord, Have Mercy” was on its twenty-second repetition between his lips, and the rat hit the Orthodox cross carved into the marble of the altar and lay down on the carpet. A thin, feeble “squeak!” sound was heard. The full moon, with its light reflecting from the windows, was licking the pain that had infused into the lines under the eyes in the painting depicting the severed head of John the Baptist dripping with blood. A tremor was felt in the strong voice of the choir. The abbot quickly gathered the other voices that had been torn away from his voice like a shell and scattered around his own voice. The deacon could not help himself with his killing instinct, and did what should not be done among those who were on their knees, stood up and killed the rat at the cost of violating church laws. As he returned to the others, a question mark appeared on their moonlit faces. His voice was louder."



Jaklin Çelik tells the story of the desperation of being stuck in limbo, the sign language of the poor, and the hidden wine cellars that stand like a borderline in the middle of life, with a heart-touching, ingratiating and delicate style.

EXCERPT "The man who stuck his head out of the window of his car called out to the puny dog ​​who narrowly escaped getting under the wheel:

“Look ahead, animal!” The puny dog ​​could not look ahead, not even at the ground or the sky, because he was blind. He dragged his body, which blindness had weakened and rendered defenseless, through the irregular flow of traffic, to the pavement and with difficulty left it at the foot of the wall. His tongue was out, his breath was ragged. A little ahead, a woman with “For the love of God” written in crooked letters on a piece of cardboard in front of her, her feet were gathered under her skirt, and the expectation of the income needed to leave this country as soon as possible had settled in her eyes by the end of the day. Her black eyes with long eyelashes that crowned her thin cheekbones and resented her eyeliner were anxious about making contact with people, fixed on a point far from the shame of her open palm. It was as if she had extended a hand entrusted to her to beg. He glanced at the dog out of the corner of his eye; soon the boy from his hometown who had adopted him would also appear from somewhere; it always happened like this."




















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