Tag: A tale of forbidden love

The Past Tense Of Youth: The Young Turks Revolt

On By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Changing the world, stories of mystery and romance

Rana in full regaliaGurel would take on many disguises over the course of time.  Many months passed in the glow of golden moments stolen from the the sultan and his entourage  .  Sometimes the moments were many and could be stretched into  hours but at other times they were fleeting and passed so quickly that he and Rana barely had time to brush their lips together in the kiss of  a gentle breeze.  Often he would disguise himself as one of the servant girls.  At one time he even served the valide sultan without her even being remotely suspicious.  If she had seen the moustache it would have been a dead give away but as he wore a long scarf draped from his left shoulder  and clipped just beneath his right ear covering his mouth and nose only the eyes were exposed.  Because those eyes were so light it was easy to mistake him for a foreigner.  Even I was fooled by his disguises sometimes and it was a source of great amusement for all three of us that we were able to get away with such daring escapades.  He did not seem to feel my pain and seemed blissfully unaware of the despair which dwelt  just beneath my smile.  If any of us were found out it would be certain death and if the charade were discovered and Gurel executed I could not go on with my life neither in their world nor in mine.

Then one night as he passed me in the corridor on his way  back to the guards he grabbed my hand and looked down into my eyes.  He stared at me for a long period of time still with my hand in his and leaned across to whisper in my ear. “Why do you do this for us little one?  What is in this for you?  You risk your life every day for the honour of  a love that is not even yours”.  I looked down at the tiled floor  shining in the blue light of dawn which peered in at us through the lattice.  ”  Or is it”? he cooed and lifted my chin to meet his gaze. At that moment I knew he recognised me as being more than just friend and confidante. vittorio_rappini_in_the_harem_d5601989h I wanted him to declare it then and there but there were approaching footsteps and he pulled me back into the shadows behind the arched doorway.

Sultan Hamid and his mother were in deep conversation.  They were followed by his first wife and two of his daughters, one of whom , was carrying a baby boy dressed in a green velvet coat with fur trim. I surmised this must be the next sultan in waiting. All  seemed pale except for the rosy cheeks of the infant.  A  sense of fear permeated the air. The valide sultan linked arms with her son “All will be clear in the morning. We are not without the means of defence. We have changed the guards just in time. Really you worry yourself for nothing “. Hamid furrowed his thickened brows. ” Mother the Ottoman parlaiment has just been suspended replaced by a general assembly and you tell me to be calm?  Even my own officers are turning against me.  This…. self proclaimed … ‘Army Of Liberty’  …. is bent on destroying everything I’ve worked for.  I cannot … I will not let this happen’!  he bellowed. ” You are scaring your daughters”. You want your grandchild to grow ip to be afraid of every obstacle that crosses his path” ? Sultan Hamid calmed himself and stroked his beard. ” Mother go to bed ….and you too my dears”  He kissed them all one by one ” I will be in presently” he soothed as he  pinched the baby’s cheek. The sultan continued along the darkened corridor towards Rana’s room as his family moved off through the courtyard toward their residence in the Sale Kiosk.

” Go to her”. Gurel bade me.  ” Make some excuse to enter the room”.  He placed his hands on my shoulders. ” What of you?  How will you go back now”?  I asked.  ” The guards have been changed”. My heart was pounding in my breast and I hoped against hope that he would forget all and be with me only on that night.  He kissed me  full on the mouth with a sense of harried urgency. ” I thank you with all my soul” he smiled and then turned toward the outer court. ” Come tomorrow we all will be free”. He motioned a farewell with a graceful salam  and was gone. What did he mean by that I wondered?  Was he referring to the now very strained relationship between the three of us?  Was he alluding to the march on the palace which was gathering momentum and would very soon be upon us or was he preparing me for the return twenty seven years into the future. Back to 1936 , back to Greylin, back to all with which I had been familiar. In secretMy concern was not for the demise of the Ottoman Empire, for Rana’s subjugation ,or lack of to the sultan, nor for a gypsy troth sworn in blood before I was even born.  My concern was only that his love for me and mine for him be remembered on leaving this strange exotic Paradise where nothing was as it seemed.

I made my way along the corridor with great trepidation to Rana’s suite and knocked softly on the blue door to her chamber. Jamahl, my black eunuch, had followed me from somewhere in the shadows.  He appeared out of nowhere right behind me and grabbed my hand.  He laughed with that good humoured yet slightly menacing way of his.  ” There you are little one.  His excellency was wondering what had happened to you. I think he was in the mood for a menage a trois this night”.  He knocked on the door and announced that he had indeed found me. ” I am sorry to have to do this for you and I are friends are we not”?  I smiled and snatched my hand from his clutch on entering.

Hamid was seated on the edge of the bed in his robe and slippers ” Did you think I would not find you Emine?  What were you doing wondering the corridors alone?  You have a secret lover perhaps?  He glared at me for what seemed like an eternity while I looked past him at Rana praying for any answer she could give. ” I sent her for smelling salts” Rana offered. “Not at this time of the morning … Try again… maybe  you were anxious to complete some needlework and sent her to the sewing room to fetch it hmmm” ?  Rana looked relieved to have her excuse provided.” Yes  that is it.  I couldn’t sleep and the sewing calms my nerves”. The sultan laughed long and hard at this.  I laughed too.

” You expect me to believe that you , my captivating gypsy butterfly, have the patience for embroidered tapestry?  No …. Try again …..Maybe you are sewing a message into a new handkerchief hmmm?  A secret message for a secret lover?  Or is it perhaps a message for the army corps who are at this very moment conspiring against me”?  I sat beside Hamid and put my hand on his.  “Could be Rana and I have the same mystery lover hmmm”?  Rana stared at me  and her eyes were sharp as glass.  I winked back at her. ” You know that is not possible”.  Hamid replied as he got up from the bed and began pacing the room.” That is why I have decided to move the both of you back to Topkapi so we can make what is not possible absolutely impossible.  Also for your own safety.  Whatever happens tomorrow I will know that you are out of harms way.  Jemahl will escort you and I shall send two of my caliphs along with my daughters and grandchildren shortly .  In the meantime I plan to find this impossible mystery lover and have  him executed before daylight “.

Jemahl came toward us grabbing me first and then Rana with  arms as strong as tree trunks.  We kicked and screamed but to no avail and Hamid avoided eye contact. Once outside Jemahl woke the other eunuchs positioned in front of  the harem  gates and sent them to the quarters of the military guard, no doubt, in search of Gurel. Street outside Topkapi Two of them returned from the barracks with rope which they used to tie our hands behind our backs.  Two carriages were brought round from the coach house and we were bundled in accompanied by Jemahl and one of the eunuchs who had bound our hands.  Yet again Topkapi would be our home only this time we would find it almost deserted.The palace had not been occupied for the past year except for those who looked after the grounds and the general upkeep.  We were locked up in the concubines quarters in rooms not quite so sumptuous as those we had been used to. There were guards patrolling the courtyards and outside the gates waiting for the chance to protect the titled lands of the sultan.  It didn’t seem to matter to either of us that our freedom to wonder the grounds had been curtailed as our thoughts were concentrated on the man we both loved.  Would he escape the  sultan? Would he survive the revolution and would he save us from our confines?  Any chance of  a return to my own world seemed suddenly beyond reach even in my dreams.

© Renee Dallow ( Hybiscus Bloom ) 24/7/2014 

The Past Tense Of Youth: The Slave Market

On By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Now and then, stories of mystery and romance

Constantinople marketsThe name Rana meant reborn. So that was it.  The woman in the painting had returned to her past and taken me with her.  But why?  Maybe the answer would be here in her diary.  I read on.  As I read about her capture and sale at the open markets I had a sort of deja vu as if it  were me standing there in the bright sunlight waiting to be chosen.Rana was of Roma descent and her family had moved to Georgia  in the Caucasus  near Mount  Elbrus where they entertained the villagers withthe traditional music and dance that had been the gypsy’s stock and trade since time began.Rana had been sold  into slavery by her  parents who wanted their beautiful daughter to have all the finer things that life could offer and also make a tidy profit themselves .This despite the fact that she was to be married to a young circassian soldier already chosen for her and with whom she was very much in love.

And so it was that she found herself at the markets that fateful day with five others also on display.  As she and three others chosen by the sultan’s eunuchs waited under guard during financial dealings I had a memory of  Rana gazing towards the ocean mesmerised by a pair of light blue eyes gazing back at her.  She wrote “His hair was dark and his smile dazzling”.  She had wanted to break away at that very moment and run into his arms as he mounted his white horse and came toward her.   He had found her.  She had known that he would come.    Would he dare to free her?   For a moment it seemed possible as he came closer  and closer still.   But one of the black Eunuchs turned to face him and with one arm outstretched to grab the horses reins and the other preventing Rana from taking one more step in his direction.  The moment was broken. It was all so clear in my mind.  This was more than words on a page. It was all as real to me as  the room I had just entered and felt so much attachment to.

I had also been chosen on that day.  The eyes that had stared down upon her from that great white horse were Gurel’s eyes. I would know those eyes anywhere.  The eyes he looked into had once been mine. Not hers.  But if this were so how could he have been her lover and how could she have described him so exactly?    How would this impact on me, on my marriage, on the world I inhabited ?

The world I wanted to return to nearly thirty years into the future.  If only I hadn’t stayed behind.  If only I hadn’t climbed that staircase. If only I had never entered this room.  If only I was not the only blonde  English girl in the harem. If only ….

 

 © Renee Dallow ( Hybiscus Bloom ) 20/8/2014

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The Past Tense Of Youth: By moonlight

On By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Now and then, stories of mystery and romance

Rana sees beyondAn irresistable force was pulling me back, back into the room , from which the woman had fled just moments before.  I glanced back at the painting.  The woman had been replaced with someone new.  I couldn’t quite make out the face but the more I stared the clearer it became.  The face was mine. What did this mean?  Some kind of reference to ‘The portrait of Dorian Grey’?  But I had done nothing wrong. Had I unwittingly destroyed  a life by merely entering a room?  I tried to open the door and stood there just long enough to catch a  glimpse of the graceful figure at the end of the stairwell flowing into the courtyard below.The door closed suddenly and  I fell back onto the bed.

Hard as I tried I could not move.  Strange that  after very little effort, I no longer felt inclined to do so.  I felt my eyelids growing heavy and drifted off into the land of my subconcious.  My mind travelled back to the night I first met Gurel.  A fancy dress party at The Hydro Majestic in The Blue Mountains about two hours out of Sydney Australia.   We had first laid eyes  on each other whilst dining on the  grand terrace overlooking the valley .  I was on holiday with my family and he was dining with some very distinguished looking gentlemen. I later found out that he was a university student who had just won an academic prize for excellence in his field of study.  He had come with a group of his peers.His dream was to be a great architect not only of buildings but of change in his own country.  He had dark hair, a dazzling smile and sparkling blue eyes which were very unusual for a Turk.  I was smitten.We danced on that terrace in the moonlight and meandered down into the valley with the stars paving the way.

 By morning that nothing anyone could say or do would ever make us part.Together we would change the world somehow. Of that I was sure.  

© Renee Dallow ( Hybiscus Bloom ) 8/8/2013 

The Past Tense Of Youth: Reaching Topkapi

On By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Now and then, Romantic interludes

 

ballroom dancersIt was  July in the year 1936  and I was on my honeymoon. The world had recovered from the great war and I, ever the one to be different , had fallen in love with a young Turk. His name was Gurel and the meaning of that name would become more significant than life itself.  We had met In Australia of all places in a beautiful mountainous region which I shall speak more of as my story progresses. We were spending some time with his family in Istanbul in a small apartment near the bustling suburb of Gostepe. This had been quite an adjustment for me and I had at times felt very lonely.  So I did what I had always done.  I read everything I could lay my hands on.

 Gurel would buy novels for me from an English book stall near the market place and found it difficult to keep up with my never ending requests for new books.  Most were historical romances set in far off places like  India or Tibet.  Lust, intrigue and unrequited love filled my every day moments with splendour. When Gurel arrived home in the late afternoons he found me full of life and ready to share  the intricacies of my new found expediencies with him.

My parents arrived from Cumberland two months later and I was terribly excited to see them.  An itinerary was  arranged by Gurel’s family and I ,along with my parents , was finally going to experience all the famous sites of the city.  There was only one site I was interested in.  Topkapi Palace home of the Ottoman Empire.

The palace of the sultans, of gleaming domed rooftops,of a secret harem hidden from the world of men. Although aware that the time of sultan rule was long since past and that the harem was no more didn’t faze me one bit and my imagination ran wild. I remember that first glimpse of the palace from the deck of the ferry gliding through the smooth waters of the Bosphoros

 

Magnificent! A maze of tiled roofs with towers and turrets reaching to the heavens surrounded by flowering gardens and cedar trees.The palace was now a museum and had become so in 1924 after having been left to retired servants following the demise of the Ottoman Empire.The governing powers had saved it from decay and turned it into a mecca for tourists. When we arrived at the gate of the first courtyard inside the palace grounds we joined a long queue of said tourists and waited for what seemed like an eternity for our guide.

A strange little man with an all knowing, all powerful, all encompassing sense of … something … appeared and we began the tour.  In that very moment as I gazed beyond the crowds and into the corridors ahead I had a feeling of a life lived within these walls that I had somehow been a part of. I felt myself drifting as if in a daze but then became aware of the touch of my husband’s hand on mine and attuned myself to the hypnotic voice of the strange little man leading us through ….

© Renee Dallow ( Hybiscus Bloom ) 9/7/2013