MAZI KA HAMAM

Some journeys were for passion. They met through prayers. For years, I was immersed in their love. I saw them with love and wrote about them with longing. Their intoxication was such that it was the true interpreter of the form "I forgot the world for your love". Some were due to the grace of water. In the case of some, the intention was very wrong. Let's say the journey to Italy was a gift, a blessing. I can also say that I was blessed with water. My feet had to set foot on that land. Rome and Venice were my early loves. There was also an immense amount of desire to go there. I cannot tell you with what love I saw Milan, Venice, Rome, Pisa, Lucca, Lake Como and Pompeii. In this way, I saw places small and large and with peace and tranquility. Yes, but when I sat down to write, opened my diary and analyzed my emotions and feelings, I felt that my cries were the same while going to every place in Italy. My biggest problem was being alone. Then I had also entered old age where the fear of a disturbance over a small matter of the heart seemed like a sword hanging over my head. While writing, I did not like to repeat them again and again, lest I bore my reader. Repeat that fear. So, I wrote my heartfelt feelings and my observations in detail for a few cities. My experiences of being pushed around in trains and going to a new place every day, along with the necessary ones, were different, but my feelings were the same. Now, it was not intended to put the reader to any test. Yes, if at any point these feelings are felt to be repeated, I will apologize.