استنبول

İstanbul

Istanbul is a bridge, not just of land but of time, of people, of empires that had come and gone. Standing between East and West, belonging to both, yet fully neither. The streets carries the weight of centuries, of languages mixing, of ships passing, of prayers rising. It is a city of crossings, of movement, of in-betweens.

I knew that feeling. To be from two places, to belong everywhere and nowhere. To wake up in one city and dream of another. To speak in one tongue but think in another. Istanbul is not just a place—it is a feeling, a mirror. It is the space between, and in that space, I found myself.