Beyond the Garden

Beyond the Garden

by Fatih Canıtez

Copyright 2019 Fatih Canıtez

Smashwords Edition

PART 1- THE DISTANT PAST

In the Beginning

In the beginning there was the Word. There was harmony. There was beauty. Everything was in its place. Unity was not scattered. The plains, the wilderness, the oceans, the mountains and the birds were truly plains, wilderness, oceans, mountains and birds. Everything was floating in the happiness and tranquility of truly being that exact thing it was supposed to be. In the distance there was a garden. And everything was in that garden. Nothing ever happened outside of that garden. The garden reached into eternity in its splendor, housing everything in its existence. The trees, their leaves and fruits radiated a true light. There was no Sun, everything was illuminated with a natural light. The sky was lost in an eternal blueness. A gentle blueness that surrounded everything.

Yes, in the beginning there was the Word, but it had not divided into words and scattered around the realm. The Word surrounded itself in an eternal happiness, unity, goodness and light. The garden and the Word had not yet been separated, because the serpent had not yet entered the garden. The apple tree was yet to be seen, too. The only things in sight were the tranquil radiance of light, the delightful chirping of birds and a calming gentle breeze. Neither the seer nor the seen, nor the hearer and the heard, nor the feeler and the felt were divided. Everything continued its existence in an eternal unity. The squirrels played with the rabbits, even wild animals seemed tame and peaceful.

It would seem difficult to speak of a beginning. Everything consisted of a moment that neither started nor ended. Birds sang an eternal song, plains spread out over an eternal wilderness, and the trees would reach into the endless depths of the sky. The infinite musical rhythm never tired its listeners, on the contrary it evoked an ecstasy that vibrated and cherished everything, rejuvenating everything. Life, vitality and joy surrounded all that existed.

Separation? That was a word yet to be heard. Even the knower and known were one, the winds sang a song of unity. There was no separation nor sadness, so the song of worry and pain were yet to be heard. Think of the happy ending of a film, don’t you ever wonder what happens after the end? Doesn’t anything ever happen? Don’t people ever go their own ways? Does nobody cry? At the end of fairy tales, when the three apples fall form the sky, when the prince finds his princess, when all the characters in the tale overcome their hardships, there is a deep silence because everything is the way as it should be. They all live happily ever after. The garden was in that sort of state, but this silence carried with its vitality and movement. It had escaped its past and future. Maybe it was some sort of calm before the storm.

In the garden, I saw people on top of a hill. They seemed more real than everything else. You could tell how happy they were just by looking at their faces. They were all happily busy with something. I asked one of them about death, I think at first, he didn’t understand the question, as he stared at me for a long time. Then he just went back to work. Whoever I saw seemed like they were lost in the excitement and joy of an ever-repeating eternal game. Their childish inquisitiveness and sense of victory was written all over their faces. I approached someone else and asked her where her home was and what her job was. She replied that her home was everything I could see, and that her job was the same. Then she started talking to her friends, consumed by a sense of deep joy and cheeriness. It was as though nobody had to explain themselves, that everything they said was understood and were all laughing in utter joy. It felt like there was no separation between the sky and the people. The sky was so close, you could almost reach it and touch it. Every now and then a gentle breeze would entrance the people, renew their sense of joy in their work and conversation. It wasn’t just the people that were talking to each other, it felt like everything was in deep conversation. As the people weren’t distant from each other, and the proximity with everything else was close, this deep conversation flowed naturally without any effort. Everything was in a constant state of convergence and unity. Man and woman, lover and beloved were still one.

How and why it happened, I can’t remember but suddenly all hell broke loose. It started with a faint sound of rumbling, that turned into violent shaking. I saw the heavens being ripped from the earth, animals running around, people separated in a state of terror. While everything was becoming separated from its counterpart, the sweet sound of eternal music stopped and turned into an alarming noise. Much later, people were going to say that unity was replaced with multiplicity that day. Everyone was suddenly only accountable of themselves, those peaceful days seemed like a distant memory. Day and night had become separated, the natural radiance of light emitting from the garden had been replaced by something called the Sun, that would show itself at day then disappear at night. Well, what about the garden? Well, the garden had completely disappeared. The storm had ripped all the trees out of the earth, not even one was left to cast a comforting shadow; all the rivers that flowed stopped flowing, too. The rosy pink hue of the realm was replaced by black and white gloominess. Experts still haven’t been able to shed light on what caused this catastrophe, but they suspect two people eating an apple, or something along those lines.

Witnesses saw the people coming down that hill in groups. The sweet talks they had turned into bitter and suspicious discussions, they even started to blame each other for what had happened. It was as though everyone turned into a stranger. The skies were overcast with dark shadows, and the earths bore plants of nettled leaves. The groups started to fight, with sticks and stones and mortal enemies began to sprout here and there. Among the fighting crowds, I saw someone walking down the hill with his head bent down and tears streaming down his face. It was as though this person was dragging his feet and was only walking down because he simply had to. I approached this person and asked: What’s the explanation of all of this? Why did the skies suddenly turn black and why were the people kicked out of the garden? The person responded that he didn’t really know and didn’t want to talk about it. I looked at this person’s face and I could see regret and suffering, which was followed by a deep silence. It was as though this deep silence gave birth to curiosity and hope, replacing regret and suffering. The person then said he wanted to return to the garden no matter what, and that he would find a way up to that garden, and that nobody should doubt that. I was told to leave him alone, that he had plans for the future. It was as though this person was an immigrant forced to leave his home country, a prisoner in exile… and the skies were crying…

Birth and the World

I can barely remember the following days, it felt like centuries had passed. The garden had been long forgotten, and only a vague memory of it was left. I had found myself in a world whose people and nature seemed vastly foreign.

In this foreign land I felt excruciating loneliness. This loneliness was accompanied by an extreme coldness. Then the shaking, and sobbing and crying. I might have cried for hours, only to cry and cry again. When I finally woke up, I found myself in the arms of the woman whom I was to call my mother. It felt as though I could feel the warmth of the garden again. The doctors I talked to, they all told me I calmed down a bit after this. I had drifted off into a deep sleep. I had seen that angel in my dreams, and then a vast whiteness. At first, the angel said welcome, and we hugged and wept. I suddenly saw a feeling of hope and fear on the angel’s face. I asked What is the meaning of all of this? the angel replied You are going to see beautiful things. and talked about wonderful houses, golden-hearted people, clouds, adventures and successes, that beautiful girl I would see and love, poems, scenes of reunion from old Turkish films, my mother’s meals and interesting people from faraway lands. Then the angel looked away, I patiently waited. The angel turned to me, grabbed my arms and then let go, and said You look like an intelligent and patient person. Listen to me, and don’t interrupt. I don’t know the meaning of this too, but you’re going to see everything anyway. and the angel talked about separation, wars, struggles, losses, doubt, of bad people, disappointment, loneliness, illness, poverty, fear and death. The angel smiled every now and then, it was as though it was trying to hide something from me. I was just about to ask the angel why it was smiling when it said Well, that’s all. Good-bye! I won’t be seeing you for quite a while. and just disappeared. I was struck aghast. The rain had stopped, and the sun started to shine into the room. I slept a bit more.

The Game

When I had awoken, I found myself in an orchard full of trees, playing games with my friends. Each game seemed like it was preparing us for something. We ran about, aimlessly trying to catch each other, and then learn to chase one another again. While playing this never-ending game, we felt lost and purposeless. Then we’d grow tired of it and switch to another game. Puss-in the corner; probably the game that best describes our lives. Constantly restless in our corners, we learn to try to find a better spot and not feel sorry for those stuck in the middle. We’d learn how to jump over each other while playing leapfrog and understand how important luck and intelligence is while playing backgammon. We’d then grow tired of backgammon and play chess only to find out all we needed was intelligence to beat our opponent. But the endless hours of calculating our next move would bore us too, and we’d all end up playing street football. The weakest among us would be the goalie, and we’d assume to position of striker. We used to think that we’d impress all the girls with the goals we scored, but of course none of those individual goals mattered when our opponents scored against us as a team. That’s how we learned that playing as a