The story I lived with my sister

It was the early eighties. I was in middle school back then. There weren't that many in our neighborhood who went to secondary school. There were also boys, but only one of the girls was gone. I was one of those few.

Those were the years when television was in the few houses in the big neighborhood. Technology had not taken their lives captive yet.

Friendships, neighbors, evening stays, tea was burned, I was waiting for you, the neighbor was called from the window or the courtyard.

Those glorious years when home phones, let alone cell phones, did not enter every house.

In street games, all the children of our street used to gather. But there were always problems between states, we used to make weapons from small pieces of wood and play as warriors.

There are such beautiful memories of those times to tell, but in this article, I am not talking about the memories of that day; I will tell you about my elder, who is one of the notables of our neighborhood, who we can call a cornerstone, who has experienced it.

Our next door neighbor. A small window of their back room faced our courtyard.

My sister, on the other hand, was a seasoned, understanding and helpful modern woman.

Whoever had a wedding in the neighborhood would rush to help or be consulted about the size of the wedding meals. We are talking about the years when home weddings were held for three days and three nights and the wedding cauldrons were boiling.

Whoever had a funeral, he would understand everything to be done and would be found in the house where the funeral was.

My sister was called when she was going to ask for a girl, her experience was used when she was coming to ask for a girl, and even when we were getting a girl from our neighborhood, the bride would go to the boy's side along with our daughter.

She was one of the wise ladies of our neighborhood. She sewed very well and cooked very well.

If I'm assuming my sister now, she's in her nineties or something. May Allah give you a good life.

Schools and reading were very precious back then. A child who went to school would be privileged over those who did not. He would have read the name.

Even the neighborhood grocers would ask the child who had read the bill, if a child who had studied at the grocery store came. Be it primary or secondary school.

You're a schoolboy, calculate it, it was called a lad.

Children would be sent to grocery shopping, and cash would be given to their hands anyway.

—-Come on, son, get two kilos of yogurt and four eggs!

The years when it was said not to lose your money...

Grocery stores were like a neighborhood school. Perhaps the children were developing their ingenuity in grocery shopping…

Those who had studied would come to his house the day or days before to take the university exam and stay. In this way, I can say that it has taught or helped many children to read.

Recently, I went to see my sister in my hometown. He is staying with his daughter. Once again, I saw that life is empty.

I heard that our sister, one of the cornerstones of our neighborhood, who has worked on many people for years, has not even knocked on her door.

I went and saw him, he was lying on his bed, shiny. We shared a lot of salt and bread. You have a lot of right on us. If he is on our side, may his halal be pleasant. I kiss your hands, my dear sister.

We humans have sucked raw milk. How ungrateful and how disloyal we were.

How many children did he have, including his own children and grandchildren?

Nowadays, people do not accept to have their brother's child educated at home, because they are afraid of taking responsibility and we have become an intolerant society.

Where is loyalty, where is humanity?

Now I am afraid to think about our own end, even to think about it.

May God not let you down. Let him not let his son be called my daughter, let him not act in need of oppression.

Because when we call ourselves with our elderly people in need of care, there is only a time difference of 20 years.

In other words, we are in the place of our elders, whom we did not turn today, twenty years later.

Lord, you are omnipotent.

Do not alienate us from our humanity, my God. Give our hearts a sense of love and compassion.

It is so ordinary to walk, to go out, to travel, to see different human faces as long as we can hold our hands and feet. We don't even realize what a blessing it is.

However, if you do not have a hand and feet and are confined to bed, how valuable is it to even sleep by a window. A knock on your door, a familiar face saying hello….

But we are beings who cannot understand without falling, unfortunately...