• The Barber’s Silence: A Haircut, Tolstoy’s Angel, and the Flow of Time

      Once I went to get a haircut, and when I saw the barber cutting my hair, I actually remembered a story about a cobbler written by Tolstoy.   There is a cobbler in one of Tolstoy’s short stories, whose name I have forgotten. This cobbler was originally an angel and was demoted to the earth for committing sins in heaven. He fell naked in the mud and was found by an old cobbler passing by who took him in. After he recovered, he learned various crafts in the old cobbler’s shop and later became a cobbler.   After several years of learning, the cobbler’s craftsmanship has surpassed that of the old cobbler.…

  • Beyond Riches: The Tycoon, Tragedy, and Finding Balance in Life

    Not long ago, I journeyed to Turkey where serendipity led me to an encounter with Mr. Sabanci, now renowned as the preeminent magnate of Turkey. It would not be hyperbolic to assert that Mr. Sabanci reigns as the foremost titan of Turkey’s financial realm. The omnipresence of Toyota automobiles, bearing testimony to the manufacturing prowess of his lineage, attests to his paramount influence. Any emblem emblazoned with the SA insignia, set against a backdrop of cerulean and adorned with alabaster characters, is testament to the industry of his lineage. Indeed, the SA emblem permeates the Turkish landscape, rendering Sabanci a household cognomen. Yet, fortune, in its capricious nature, has dealt…

  • From Taxi Driver to Life Coach: Unexpected Wisdom Found on a Rainy Night

    One evening several months prior, as I reclined in bed, preparing to retire, I received a summons from my employer, indicating an urgent matter requiring attention. Consequently, I toiled overtime until the early hours of the morning, ultimately completing the task. Upon exiting the premises, intending to return home, I discerned a gentle onset of rain. Having abstained from driving that day, I resorted to summoning a ride-hailing service. Promptly, the virtual taxi arrived at the unit’s entrance as scheduled. The proprietor, a gentleman of approximately thirty years, possessed a fashionable coiffure and exuded a pristine demeanor. Initial impressions suggested a jovial disposition, with an inclination towards laughter and an…

  • Morning Melodies of the Mountains: Finding Serenity in Grandmother’s Rural Rhythm

    Rural existence amidst craggy terrain and meandering rivers exudes perennial tranquility. The firmament, yet to dawn with its luminosity, ensconces everything in the embrace of a sweet reverie. The air bears the redolence of damp earth, imbued with a nocturnal coolness. Mist-shrouded mountains loom like a bashful maiden, concealing her countenance behind a pipa cradled in her arms. The distant fields, lightly veiled in mist, assume a hazy visage, reminiscent of an incomplete ink painting. Amidst this serenity, the venerable grandmother has already arisen. Her industry appears to have crystallized into a habitual cadence, a life-sustaining rhythm. Adroitly stoking the wood stove and replenishing the kettle with water, she patiently…

  • Beyond the Crossroads: A Traffic Lady’s Joy that Ignites Ordinary Lives

      What does the crossroads mean? Southeast, northwest, or front, back, left, and right. This intersection is a silhouette of the city. We arrive in a hurry and leave in a hurry, just like our short life, reaching in all directions but nowhere to rely on.   But here, there is always an ordinary figure that I can’t forget. “Go straight, hurry up!” She waved the small yellow flag in her hand, greeted the warm sunshine with a bright smile, and threw it at every passerby. Under the blue sky and white clouds, a woman in her late fifties wearing a yellow uniform always stands at that intersection. The noisy intersection becomes…

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