The Secret Under The World

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A huge, noisy and orange machine has begun to work. It has started to destroy the houses. Which houses?! Who knows what things are behind the windows of houses?! Love, history, peaceful eyes or evil?! Small houses will be destroyed and, tall and huge towers will rise.

The human race eats, drinks, breathes, speaks and lives. I am in a big city, which has many skyscrapers and produces new products everyday. Companies are working, workers are making. Geniuses create new ways to live and develop the world. As time passes, small houses are destroyed and old culture is forgotten. No! No!


At the corner of a park in the middle of a city, an old woman with long, soft and white hair is sitting on a green bench. She seems happy; but when I walk towards her, when I look in to her eyes I understand how she feels in this city. How she lived in the past. I see many wrinkles on her face. Each of these wrinkles tells a story about the life and the history. Each of them had observed strange events during the woman’s lifetime.

She is staring at the sunshine dancing among tree-trunks and the sun is red and clear. This woman does not understand machines and technology.

I ask her, “How old are you?”

She answers, “one hundred.”

The woman is so interesting. She is old and is always smiling. When she talks her voice makes me feel comfortable. The kind woman has the warmest and most calming voice that I have ever heard. I am interested to hear about her life, her feeling and truth of life.

“How do you feel in this industrial and developing city?”

No on can imagine her answer. No one can say what things are behind her brown innocent eyes.

“When I was born my mother died. I was an infant and have no memory of her; but my father had been alive until twenty years ago. He was a farmer and our farm was right here, under this park; this place where I am sitting and talking to you. Now the world has changed. My small village has turned into the big city of the world and my beautiful farm has died.”

Imagine how she could continue her life without her wonderful land. The woman with her white long hair and with her warm smooth hands closes her eyes. She takes my hand and put it on her heart. It is beating slowly. It is warm and needs to hear a sound. It needs to hear the sound of kids who are laughing and playing. The woman wants to narrate a story for the kids. She says with a smile,

“Look around! Look at the buildings, cars and people. Most of them have forgotten their culture and history. Most of them live for money and dream about money and power. Money is mortal but two things never change: love and faith.”

Her sad, brown eyes swept the ground, and then she looked up into mine and continued to speak in her ancient, gravelly voice.

“Love is hope and hope is history. Ancient people hoped that their country would have a memory. This memory is an immortal power that is bound through the history by love. Love is manifest by human beings who hoped and lived for life and passed on their beliefs to their children.”

Suddenly my heart began to beat. It was difficult for me to accept this love, this hope that has been forgotten and which has died in this time. Why do the human beings think the world changes?! No! The world never changes; the people change. The ways of lives, the ways of meditation change. The woman starts to walk in feminine manner. I follow her and gradually I hear a strange sound. Something is slumping. She walks slowly and gracefully. She is blubbering out and I can see her shiny tears on her smooth and gentle face.

“We live by faith. Faith means to live or not live. When you are living, when you are hovering above the world with your heart it shows your faith. Everything changes. You live with hope and love. You walk because you know why you are alive. Why you are here in this city and part of the world. You breathe because you want to breathe. This is living. Your hope always shines in your heart and never ends. You find the truth because of sincerity.”

“Do you know why we must be honest?! Why we must learn how to treat others with our love?!”


She says wisely, to me,” Most of the juveniles have this problem. When you want to love people, to love your husband, first you must learn how to be honest. If you lie to your love, the love will leave you forever. He will lie to you too and breaks your heart. If you lie to your world, if you lie to your life they will push you away, never pay attention to you. No one likes to be alone, so try to be honest, be a real lover.”

“At last the hidden peace will appear. It will show its white and peaceful eyes. It walks gracefully and cries out to live in the present. History has ended but its echoes effect our future. Live for now; be in this beautiful time. The world is a part of history and history is the humans. The world has no secret. The secret are people who live in the universe. The modern land, land of friendship.”

The old woman closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She had had a difficult life but never lost her hope. She told me what happened to her small farm. The city needed to be developed. Farms had to be destroyed and companies built. One time, when she was planting a beautiful, red rose, she heard someone say that this part of the village would be destroyed. She turned around, walked towards that man until she was face to face with him. Worried about her life she shouted,”No one may devastate my small farm!”, But that man did not pay attention and later built a huge factory. A factory, which produced dreadful things that damaged the world. Cars, trucks and noisy machines, which polluted the air and destroyed forests.

These things happened during her lifetime. She has observed that her farm was destroyed. Then the factory was damaged too and this park has built in its place.

The old woman is not worried about her life. She said she is worried about the people who are her family and friends.

Today she is happy. She smiles and has a good life; but never forgets her past life, culture and love. The love, which helped her to be alive in this strange world.

The sunshine was still dancing and the birds were singing. The woman lay on green grasses, a leaf touched her face gently, and I never heard her warm voice again. I saw in the sky an old beautiful woman was narrating a story for kids with angels laughing. 

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