Foolish man, why didn’t you hold the government accountable when elections were happening?
I posed this question to an old man arguing with a shopkeeper over the rising price of potatoes. The poor fellow had no answer—not because he lacked reasoning, but because he didn’t know English, and my Turkish was far from fluent. (Not to mention, I muttered this quietly. Who wants to start a fight?)
The current Turkish government is facing criticism from its people, but what’s the use now? At almost every shop, a Turk throws their hands up and laments, “I don’t have money!” Yet, they still buy everything and, of course, argue as if it’s a ritual. It has become a daily phrase here:
"O Kadar Param Yök" (I don’t have that kind of money).
At a barber’s shop, some “wise” young men were grumbling about the dollar. “The dollar is the real culprit,” they said. “Prices are skyrocketing because of the dollar!” they exclaimed, taking long drags from their cigarettes and exhaling with theatrical flair.
Now, who will explain to these gems that vegetables, fruits, milk, and meat are all produced locally? What does the dollar have to do with those?
Even beggars have increased on trains. Some beg in God’s name, while others showcase their talent. One young man walked through the train playing a violin, asking for money. No one gave him anything, and I felt awful. He seemed about my age. I pulled out some cash and handed it to him. He pocketed the money, put the violin away, and walked off. When he got on, he moved with energy, but as he stepped off the train, his gait had slowed. It left me feeling deeply melancholic.
At the next station, some children were selling pencils. At every stop, little makeshift shops lined the ground, manned by beautiful souls searching for their daily bread. Among them was a girl with radiant eyes selling her paintings. As I browsed through her work, I couldn’t help but think these pieces deserved far more than their asking price. The words slipped out of my mouth:
"The artist on the road."
New characters keep emerging, but the play remains the same.
—Rahat Indori
These are two digital receipts of my grocery shopping—one from last year, 2023, and the other from this year, 2024. Last year was undeniably better. If every passing year feels worse than the one before, it’s a sign the economy is deteriorating.
Potatoes are now Patates, tomatoes Domates, eggs Yumurta, and milk Süt. Even chicken deserves mention: Tavuk.
Look at the prices, and you’ll notice a 40–50% increase. To bury this inflation under the rug, the minister conveniently raises salaries each year, as if that solves the problem. It doesn’t—not even close. But it does temporarily appease the naive public, who know little about economics.
I don’t write as often these days, so let me end with a fitting verse:
They are refreshed (after every presidential elections), showcasing new tricks.
✍🏻 Abdullah Mahmood
December 24, 2024