Afrikaans
Akan
Albanian
Amharic
Armenian
Azerbaijani
Basque
Belarusian
Bemba
Bengali
Bihari
Bosnian
Breton
Bulgarian
Cambodian
Catalan
Cebuano
Cherokee
Chichewa
Chinese (Simplified)
Chinese (Traditional)
Corsican
Croatian
Czech
Danish
Dutch
English
Esperanto
Estonian
Ewe
Faroese
Filipino
Finnish
French
Frisian
Ga
Galician
Georgian
German
Greek
Guarani
Gujarati
Haitian Creole
Hausa
Hawaiian
Hebrew
Hindi
Hmong
Hungarian
Icelandic
Igbo
Indonesian
Interlingua
Irish
Italian
Japanese
Javanese
Kannada
Kazakh
Kinyarwanda
Kirundi
Kongo
Korean
Krio (Sierra Leone)
Kurdish
Kurdish (Soranรฎ)
Kyrgyz
Laothian
Latin
Latvian
Lingala
Lithuanian
Lozi
Luganda
Luo
Luxembourgish
Macedonian
Malagasy
Malay
Malayalam
Maltese
Maori
Marathi
Mauritian Creole
Moldavian
Mongolian
Myanmar (Burmese)
Montenegrin
Nepali
Nigerian Pidgin
Northern Sotho
Norwegian
Norwegian (Nynorsk)
Occitan
Oriya
Oromo
Pashto
Persian
Polish
Portuguese (Brazil)
Portuguese (Portugal)
Punjabi
Quechua
Romanian
Romansh
Runyakitara
Russian
Samoan
Scots Gaelic
Serbian
Serbo-Croatian
Sesotho
Setswana
Seychellois Creole
Shona
Sindhi
Sinhalese
Slovak
Slovenian
Somali
Spanish
Spanish (Latin American)
Sundanese
Swahili
Swedish
Tajik
Tamil
Tatar
Telugu
Thai
Tigrinya
Tonga
Tshiluba
Tumbuka
Turkish
Turkmen
Twi
Uighur
Ukrainian
Urdu
Uzbek
Vietnamese
Welsh
Wolof
Xhosa
Yiddish
Yoruba
Zulu
Don't prod the pomegranate inside me I'm wearing a white shirt... Birhan Keskin
You were sleeping so sweetly. What an angel. Call you later.
- Morning. - Morning, Mustafa. How's things?
Fine, Abla. I sent the wife and boy back to the village for a few days.
- Her father's not too well. - Sorry to hear that.
Those guys downstairs have gone off and left the dog at home.
The animal's been howling non-stop since yesterday.
OK, have a good day.
Ah, it's my director! Hello?
I'm fantastic. How are you?
Oh no, are you serious?
I hope you're over it soon.
In that case..
The rehearsal's off then.
OK, I'll wait to hear from you.
Get well soon.
Who are you looking for?
Dr Sema.
Kurucesme Avenue No 85, Flat Three.
- What do you want with miss Sema? - I have an appointment.
An appointment. But Dr Sema doesn't see patients at home.
I'm not a patient. It's a private appointment.
Go up three floors.
- Who is it? - Me... Asuman.
Asuman?
We made an appointment.
Mrs. Dr Sema?
It's the right address, isn't it?
We said Thursday morning at 10.00. You said it was your day off.
- What was it about? - Your fortune. Having your fortune told.
I'm Asuman... Mrs. Guler's fortune-teller.
- Mrs. Guler gave you my number. - Guler?
Ah, Guler the lawyer? Oh, right. Fortune-telling... Yes.
Come in, come in. Forgive me.
You needn't have taken them off. Whatever... There, go through.
- The weather's so gloomy today. - Aha.
- It gets to a person. - Yes.
And I came out as I am, without an umbrella.
Does Guler have you tell her fortune regularly?
She calls at least once a month. She's very pleased with me.
And she was nice enough to tell you about me.
Have a seat. I've kept you standing. Forgive me... I forgot you were coming.
- I was about to go out. - That's only natural.
Doctors have a lot on their minds. It's a very hard job.
Speaking for myself, I could never have been a doctor.
I don't have the brains anyway.
But you tell fortunes. You've even convinced Mrs. Guler.
Guler believes in nothing she can't actually see. She's a total positivist.
Posi... What?
Forget it. I mean, you do a great job telling fortunes.
I wouldn't know. It's not like I tell fortunes.
How do you mean?
I don't tell fortunes. I see things.
I don't understand what I see either.
Two years ago they came to me. I was really down.
I started seeing shapes and things.
I look at something. It could be anything. A puddle...
A patch of damp on the wall...
Clouds..
Even those pomegranates there.
Say a bag goes missing, I'll sense where it is.
Pardon me for saying so, but if there's cheating in a marriage...
I'll pick up the smell like it was freshly cut melon.
A voice whispers in my ear: tulip, tulip... Along with a number.
And there, out comes the address of the man's secret love nest.
Tulip Street.
The wives are grateful.
That's how I came to be known in Istanbul. It's worked out well.
There's an imam in our neighbourhood. Even his wife came to me.
She said it was a sin though. I told her it was no sin.
My thing isn't fortune-telling.
I don't tell fortunes. You tell your fortune yourself.
I just say what's echoing in my ear and you make sense of it.
There, I'm a bit cuckoo.
- Would you like coffee? - If it's no trouble.
But not your pozi-thing coffee.
If we're to read your coffee cup, we need proper Turkish coffee.
- I can't make Turkish coffee. - Let me do it, if it's OK by you.
Besides, my touch is needed for the grinds to be readable.
Then I met Mrs. Guler, the lawyer. She's a mighty troubled lady.
When she mentioned you and said would I go to you...
I said of course.
I hear from Mrs. Guler you've never had your fortune told.
The hardest jobs in the world are the most simple ones.
What's so hard about brewing coffee? Well, getting it just right.
If you put in too little coffee, the grinds won't stick to the cup.
And if you put in too much, it clouds over your fortune.
Everything has its measure. But on the finest scale.
How are you doing, darling? I'm good. Didn't get up till late.
Sure, I guessed it was an emergency.
Me? Nothing. Just hanging out at home.
No, the rehearsal's off. I have nothing on all day.
I don't feel like going out in this weather.
I'm about to have coffee.
Listen, do you believe in fortune-telling?
I don't know, any kind. Coffee cups, playing cards...
No reason. It just came to mind. OK, anyway, forget it.
When will you be done at work?
OK, whenever. I'll be home the whole time.
Don't work too hard. See you later.
I guess you're married.
Yes.
But I'm as good as widowed.
My husband's been bedridden for 12 years.
I have a daughter.
And a grandchild. Or I had one.
We lost her.
We almost lost my daughter too.
Anyway, she pulled through.
Sorry to hear it. Must be hard.
Very hard.
Very hard.
Is something wrong?
No, it's passed.
They were just passing. It happens.
Who was passing?
On calm, quiet nights...
the wind suddenly blows through the leaves on the trees.
As though the tree is talking.. Whispering..
Our imam's wife calls them djinns. You're dallying with djinns, she says.
No good comes of their talk, she says.
But then she comes to see me.
It's hard to explain.
They don't speak the language of this world.
It can't even be called speaking.
I just sense it.
Well, what did they just say? The djinns.
Never mind. Don't be afraid. It's blown over.
This has to get cold, right?
Let me run and get some clothes on. Here you are and I'm not even dressed.
- It doesn't matter. - I'll be right back.
Is it done?
Yes.
I was going to say.. I've never had my fortune told. This will be a first.
I don't have much cash on me. What do you charge? Guler didn't say.
Whatever you feel like.
But there must be a going rate. Is it 50, 100?
Three hundred? Really, I have no idea.
If you don't have it now... It can wait till next time.
I guess people you see get addicted. You're very sure of yourself.
There was a star above you. It's gone now.
- What? - A star.
It was hanging above your head, but it's gone now.
- But... how could you know? - What?
About the star. The starfish.
I was very young. My dad caught a huge starfish in Bodrum. This big.
We dried it in the sun. Of course, it shrank a bit in drying.
We brought it back to Istanbul and hung it in my bedroom.
For years it hung there by my bed, just above my head, right here.
I was home the other day. The damp had got to it. Mum had thrown it out.
But... how could you know that?
You mean stars can be fish?
Sure. They're a kind of sea animal. Starfish.
I've never heard of them. Never seen one.
- Have you never been to the sea? - Never. I don't like the sea.
Stars or what have you. I don't like fish either.
Haven't you seen them on TV either? In documentaries or whatever?
Here, that's what they're like.
Ours was bigger, of course.
- Are you OK? - Yes, fine. I suddenly felt dizzy.
I guess I overdid it with the wine last night.
Hopefully you enjoyed it.
Don't coffee cup readers take a more classic line?
I don't know.. You have a heavy heart, say.
Or, there's a wish inside you. It'll come true by the third count.
Your head's full of crooked writing. Like it's carved in clay.
- You have to be kidding! - What's wrong?
- It's Sumerian. - What?
I studied Sumerian at university.
For a year or two. Before medicine. When my mind wasn't made up.
Do they write differently from us?
The Sumerians were a people who lived thousands of years ago in Mesopotamia.
They died out long ago.
- So no one speaks their language. - No, it's a dead language.
Why would anyone want to learn the language of the dead?
Well, you've learned the language of djinns, right?
I haven't learned it. It just happened.
My parents are both teachers. When I got a place at university...
to read Sumerian, they were livid. They thought I'd never get a job.
Typical civil servant mentality. In the end, I had to go for medicine.
But seriously, I can't get over it. Two out of two... Spot on.
How do you do it? Or did Guler tell you?
- Guler told you for sure, huh? - Mrs. Dr Sema, I don't tell lies.
I don't sound you out like some trouble-making spy.
I say what I feel that moment, what I see.
No monkey business.
OK, OK. What else do you feel?
There's a woman. She's holding a heart in her hand.
That woman isn't you. - Whose is the heart?
- Yours. - So if she squeezes it, I'm dead.
There's a giant black butterfly on her neck.
A black lie butterfly.
The woman holding the heart... If the heart is yours...
she's told a lot of lies. She's lied to you as well.
Don't you see anything good for me?
No.
Darkness.
Only darkness.
- Murder.. - Hey, what are you saying?
Oh, precious.
You're so pretty, so well-mannered. Could you really be a killer?
What is this? The djinns talking again?
If someone came to me and said, "My grandchild is dead."
"My daughter almost died too. She was saved at the last minute..."
I'd ask them what happened. I'd wonder. I'd ask. Everyone would.
- You didn't ask. - What does that mean?
Wouldn't a person wonder? Wouldn't they ask?
OK, forget the fortune-telling. I can't handle working-class weirdos...
My legs don't work.
My legs don't work.
My legs don't work!
Don't worry, it won't kill you.
Fuck! How could I be so fucking stupid?
It's like a dream. You want to shout, except no sound comes out.
But you aren't in a dream now. Calm down.
Look, there's nothing valuable here.
My purse is in the bedroom. There's 250 lira in it.
That's all. Take the lot, just don't touch me!
Mrs. Sema, don't talk rubbish. I'm not a thief.
Stop! Don't close the blinds.
The neighbours are so close. Let's not let them see anything.
You drugged me? You drugged me, didn't you?
Calm down! I'll explain.
- Calm down, sister. I'll tell you everything. - What sister? Are you crazy?
Yell!
Yes, I drugged you! Just be quiet and listen!
This is your medicine.
I paid an orderly 200 lira for it at your hospital.
Try as you like, you won't be able to move for an hour or two.
You want me to tell your pomegranate fortune?
'Sweetheart'... It's your sweetheart calling.
He'll have to wait a bit.
What do you want from me? What do you want?
There's no money here. No gold. Look if you like.
Take whatever you want and go. Just don't touch me.
I'm not after your money. How many times do I have to tell you?
What do you want then? What have I done to you?
Nothing. My grandchild and daughter... What happened, happened to them.
I don't know you. I've never met you before now.
Why would I care about your grandchild and daughter?
I have a child, my daughter, Selin.
The only child in my life. There was no other.
Selin was my first child.
Then something happened. I couldn't have any more children.
I went hungry to feed her, went without clothes to clothe her.
She even went to university. She became an accountant.
She had a career and a husband.
Her life was quite different from the neighbourhood girls.
She had created her own life.
I brought up my girl on my own. I went cleaning for the rich.
I wasn't fortune-telling then either. I worked my backside off, all alone.
Listen to me, Dr Sema. Pay attention.
I came so you'd listen to me.
My Selin had a child too. Menekse.
A little girl, pretty as a doll. Just two months old.
One night she broke out in a fever. We took her to hospital.
They kept her in and gave her an injection.
She died before the night was out, went stiff in my girl's arms and died.
- She was only just... - Enough! Why are you telling me this?
Listen, Dr Sema! Menekse died in your ward.
It has nothing to do with me. I know nothing about it.
Of course you do. You're head of the ward there, aren't you?
My daughter knows you.
She gabbled your name for days, muttered, how can she be a doctor?
The drug I put in your coffee is what was in Menekse's injection.
You've seen what it does to a fully grown woman.
But in the report you blamed my girl. You said the mother was at fault.
You wrote she neglected the baby. - I didn't write that.
Yes, you did. See?
Your signature's there at the bottom.
- I didn't write that. - You did, Dr Sema.
Would my Selin neglect her baby?
Poor thing, she couldn't take those words, 'mother's fault'.
She swallowed a bottle of pills. Anyway, we got there just in time.
She fell into depression. She eats nothing, drinks nothing.
No, she does drink. Every day, in secret, whatever she can find.
She left her job, moved in with me.
She won't speak to her husband, she won't speak to anyone.
- I didn't write it! I'm not Sema! - You ruined my girl's life, Mrs. Sema.
Sit down and write a new report.
- I am not Sema. - I will tell you the story.
- I am not Sema. - You will sign and stamp it.
My daughter will get her life back, her mind.
I'm not Sema!
Look, my friend. I get the idea about your story.
I'm sorry about everything. But I'm not Sema.
Look, Sema is this woman here. See? That's her... And me. My name's Deniz.
I have nothing to do with what you're saying.
But also... Sema wouldn't write a report like that, something untrue.
Sema is an honest woman. She has a reputation.
Everyone likes and respects her.
She's into a ton of aid campaigns, she sees the poor in the east for free.
- No way would she... - You're wasting your time, Sema.
I know you wrote it. Now it's best if you sit and write a new...
God, are you psycho? I'm telling you I'm not Sema!
You're just an ignorant, miserable woman.
What do you understand about drugs or doctor's reports? How do you know?
- I've seen. I know. - Seen what, for God's sake?
You just see things, you trip out. The djinns told you, did they?
"This report is false... Sema is a murderer..."
You haven't even woken up to who I am yet.
I lied to you straight out about being Sema and you swallowed it.
You purposely wrote a false report to save the hospital.
You don't know shit! You're wacko! Paranoid!
I'm not Sema! I'm not a doctor! Sema doesn't lie!
If you knew the trouble you're in. What you've done is intrusion.
You'll rot in jail. I hope to God you...
Help! Help! Save me!
Are you OK? Miss Deniz!
- What's up? What's with the noise? - What do you mean?
- Out of the way! - Mustafa, save me! Mustafa!
Miss Deniz? Miss Deniz, what's up? Oh my God!
Miss Deniz, who's this? What's going on?
Some psycho. She thinks I'm Sema.
Mrs. Sema?
What do you want with Mrs. Sema? Who are you?
- If you aren't Sema, who are you? - I told you, my name's Deniz.
- So Sema's that woman. - Yes, her! I'm not the woman you want.
I thought you sensed everything, you saw everything.
Those djinns who tell you everything forgot the most important detail.
- Who are you? The caretaker? - What's it to you?
- How come you're here waving a gun... - You're sure this isn't Dr Sema?
What do you want with Dr Sema? What business do you have...
Quiet!
Hit her, Mustafa!
Stop! Get over there.
Then we'll have to sit and wait for Dr Sema to come back.
- Can I lower my hands? - Sit down.
You don't know the trouble you've got yourself in.
Intrusion, hostage-taking. You'll be in jail for life now.
Miss Deniz, what's this about? How did we land up like this?
This woman's grandchild... A baby... Died in Sema's hospital.
The lady blames the hospital. She says they gave an out-of-date injection.
Sema signed a report saying it was the mother's fault.
She says the report's a lie and she should change it.
What? What do you mean a lie? Mrs. Sema saved my kid's life.
Say what you like about anyone, but not Mrs. Sema. I won't allow it.
Mrs. Sema wouldn't put her signature to a lie.
- She did this time. - How do you know?
The lady's a fortune-teller. She has her djinns.
They come and tell her the truth about everything.
- A fortune-teller? - A socialite fortune-teller!
She bust her gut to find Sema. She came to tell her fortune.
As far as I know, Sema's never had her fortune told.
When something came up in A&E, I guess she forgot. She didn't tell me.
I was an idiot for a second. I said I was Sema.
Just for the hell of it. She drugged me. My legs don't work.
Two hours. Then they'll come back.
So it's like you had a dream. The djinns spoke to you.
And you came to get revenge on Mrs. Sema, right?
Not revenge. The dead don't come back.
All I want is for Sema to correct that false report she wrote.
Mrs. Sema doesn't do lies. How can you be taken in by djinns...
grab a gun and raid a flat? You should fear God!
Father God has given up on me. That was long ago.
I don't know what I did. I've no idea what my sin was.
I've never lied, never stolen.
I did my cleaning, said my prayers. Or used to.
I'd fast.
But He always found me.
Punishment after punishment, test after test.
He crippled my husband. He took my grandchild to heaven.
He took my daughter's mind.
He must know something, I said. It's my destiny, I said.
- But I've nothing left to fear now. - Repent!
Repent, woman! - I have. How many times...
I must have sinned by mistake, I said. Forgive me, God. I won't do it again.
The same thing over and again.
In the end, a voice came from the shadows in the dark.
Only the shadows understand my troubles, I said.
- I may as well listen to them. - God forgive you!
Sister... Too bad, you've totally lost it.
But God has mercy on people who crack up, on crazies.
Too bad, you're off in cloud-cuckoo-land.
Look, no one's been hurt yet. Just drop this before it's too late.
Mannak!
- Huh? - Mannak Noni.
- What are you talking about? - Mannak Noni! Mannak Noni!
- What are you saying? - I don't know what it is.
There's a woman's voice. Mannak Noni, screaming Mannak Noni!
Woman, I'll smash you to pieces! What in hell are you talking about?
Don't move or I'll shoot! Take one step and I'll shoot.
I don't know what it means. I don't know who she is.
Mannak Noni. That's what I heard.
Who in hell are you?
Don't you dare answer. Throw it over here right now.
Throw it.
Miss Deniz! What's happened?
I've.. I've.. Oh God, I've wet myself.
I can't sit like this, please help me. Please, please help me.
Pick the girl up.
Carry her to the bathroom.
Come over here.
Go inside.
Shut the door.
- Are you from our village? - We're from Istanbul.
- You know anyone from the village? - How do I know?
- How do you know? - What?
- Mannak.. Mannak Noni. - I don't. You're the one who knows.
Here. You want anything else?
Mannak! Mannak Noni!
Mannak! Mannak Noni!
Sister?
Sister, get me out of here, I can't stand it. Sister!
Sister! Get me out of here, sister.
Come out.
Carry the girl back.
Mustafa, listen. The burglar alarm by the door..
There's an emergency number. 2233. It connects to the police station.
- 2233. Remember, 2233. - OK, 2233, but the woman has a gun.
- C'mon, a guy like you. Whack her.. - Sister, that woman's something else.
- She knows things. She freaks me out... - C'mon, out of there!
Can you grab me that bottle? The vodka over there?
Miss Deniz, I don't have a problem with you.
If you hadn't said you were Dr Sema, none of this would've happened to you.
So I'm sorry. - And she says she's sorry!
- She's totally out of her mind. - I had no choice left.
I went to the newspapers... Nothing. I called the TV channels.
I even called Seda Sayan. They wouldn't let me speak to her.
The lawyer said the hospital was beyond him because their lawyers were so good.
Really big hospital, he said.
I didn't want to go there. My son in law took us there.
Best one, he said. He had some special insurance...
I've been after Dr Sema for a year.
They won't even let me in the hospital any more.
If it weren't for fortune-telling, I wouldn't be here now.
- Anyway, thanks to Mrs. Guler... - God damn Guler!
She put you onto us, didn't she? I just don't get it.
An adult woman.. She has a career, a relationship.
She's happy, healthy, has money... Why fortune-telling?
She sends the hag along to us. So we get to hear her bullshit too.
Miss Deniz... It seems like the sister's djinns speak the truth.
- What? - I mean, it's not bullshit.
- She knows something. - Don't you start, Mustafa.
Mannak Noni's talking to her... See? She just did.
What is Mannak Noni?
In our village, when I was small, there was a crazy bitch. Well, woman.
But she was like my mum's age.
She used to wander round the hills shouting "Mannak Noni, Mannak Noni!"
That's all she said. Like some wind-up doll.
But I tell you, she was beautiful, like no other woman in the village.
She was like tall, slim, great figure.
I mean, she was just plain crazy, but... but she was a very beautiful woman.
So?
She just looked at me and said, "Mannak Noni!". Didn't you, sister?
How do you know Mannak Noni?
I'm going to lose it! For God's sake, how do you know Mannak Noni, sister?
The crazy know the crazy... How do you think?
She knows someone from your village. Someone must have told her.
It's not that simple, sister. It's not that simple.
Our sister here... She's different. I mean, I'm...
What?
I mean, there's no way. No way can she know Mannak Noni.
Should I tell you something?
The djinns were here just now. And they told the woman. For sure.
My legs are tingling.
The effect's wearing off. Wiggle them round a bit.
You'll be on your feet soon, don't worry.
The dog's been quiet for ages.
I wonder if they're back downstairs?
He has a life too, sister. Poor thing must be asleep.
Besides, I'd have heard if they'd come back.
My eyes aren't up to much, but my hearing's like a fox, sister.
I can hear immediately what is happening in every corner of the apartment building.
Deniz?
Sweetheart, were you sleeping there?
What's wrong with you?
Nothing.
Have you been drinking?
Naughty girl.
I'm starving. I'm making myself a sandwich. Do you want anything?
- Sema! - Yes, honey?
Are you OK?
Fine. I'm great.
Had a long nap...
This damn weather's done me in.
Didn't you have a rehearsal today?
No, Ismet called to cancel.
- Who's Ismet? - The director. I guess he's sick.
And with nothing to do all of a sudden, I..
I had such a weird dream, sweetheart.
But everything was so real, I can't tell you.
It was here, at home, unbelievably vivid.
You'd asked a fortune-teller over.
A fortune-teller? Me! Far out!
That's not all. The fortune-teller thought I was you.
- No, I told her I was Dr Sema. - Ah, but why?
I don't know. For the hell of it.
But she didn't exactly come to tell your fortune. She was out for revenge.
Revenge for what? Good grief, some dream.
The woman's grandchild had died on your ward.
And you'd tried to hush it up. She was showing me your signature.
Fake reports and such.
That's dire.
What's bubbling away in your subconscious, sweetheart?
It's scary to even think about that.
The woman literally had us hostage.
Mustafa, the caretaker, was there too.
We were sitting here waiting for you.
God, it was so weird.
I called you a heap of times, but your phone's off. Why's that?
Sema!
Miss Deniz! Miss Deniz!
Are you awake? You've been asleep for over an hour.
Water... Can you get me some water?
I got shot once in the army.
In combat?
No, a stray bullet. During training.
My God, the pain! It's like nothing else.
There's no words for it, Miss Deniz. It's like the world's ending.
All you can think of is water. A drop of water.
Want some, sister?
Catch!
Sister... Don't shoot! Don't shoot!
Sister, okay!
- Go back to your place. - Okay
Do it again and believe me, I'll shoot.
I pressed 3322.
- But it's 2233. - Quiet!
No moving until Dr Sema gets back.
What'll happen when Sema does get back?
You think she'll agree to write you a false report?
What is Sema to you?
Ask your djinns.. They'll know. They know everything anyway.
Are you relatives? What is she to you?
Everything. She's everything to me.
My flatmate. My other half. My friend.
My soul mate. My wife. My husband.
My girl, my boy, my sibling, my cat, my bird, my flower, my everything!
Understand? You don't, do you? How would you?
There's no such thing in your world. One woman being everything to another.
You can't understand. It's beyond you.
Like that starfish you'd never seen. Sema is my starfish.
You understand? Are you satisfied?
Look...
Sema is everything to me. I'll do all I can to protect her.
She'd do the same for me. So fuck off before she gets back!
You don't have to swear, Miss Deniz. We're talking like human beings here.
Like human beings..
The lady has a gun in her hand and she's talking like a human being.
What do you know? What do you know about human beings?
Your world is this big.
The house, cleaning, washing dishes, the husband, the children.
She said this, he said that. A sin or not a sin?
What the imam's wife said. Has Father God given up on you?
Has the rice stuck to the bottom of the pan?
Your djinns, for example.
What if they told you the weather forecast?
Or when the next big earthquake will happen in Istanbul?
Of if a recession is looming?
Shut up!
What if I don't shut up? Are you going to shoot?
If you shot us now...
we'd die for nothing. A totally pointless death.
Tomorrow we'd take up this much space in just a couple of newspapers.
Fortune-teller Horror! Young Artist's Tragic End
No, Young Actress's.. Young Aspiring Actress's...
A photo of me next to the news report.
A picture of Mustafa taken from his ID card.
No picture of you.
You want to see pictures?
Look, that's Menekse, my grandchild. And that's my daughter.
That was taken before Menekse died. She was happy then.
She went completely gray in 18 months.
She drinks every day. If only I had a recent photo to show you.
Her face is bright red, all puffy. You'd feel sick to look at it.
- What's going on here? - Ah, Sema!
A giant bee at the window All stripes of black and yellow
Round and round he goes in rings Busy bee wants to fly free
Careful, precious, the bee will sting He'll shoot poison under your skin
Your face will go all red and ugly That's what happens if you're naughty
That's as far as it goes. Unload on the police from now on.
- Sister, I've a million things to... - Wait a moment, Mustafa.
Let's decide how to sort things out with the lady here.
Mrs. Sema, give me my report and I'll go.
I won't bother you again. That's all I want.
If we're sorting things out, then let's get the police here.
- What police? - The police. The police we all know.
- We don't need the police, honey. The... - We aren't going to tell the police?
For goodness sake, just calm down, Deniz.
- We can resolve this sensibly. - Sensibly? Sensibly?
Sema, the woman lied her way into our flat. She drugged me.
My legs were paralyzed. - But you're walking now. You're OK.
Sema, she held us at gunpoint. Mustafa's a witness.
- It's a toy... A toy gun. - But we didn't know...
You want the police to laugh at you for being hostage to a toy gun all day?
- My eyes being dodgy, we had no idea. - Mrs. Asuman, look.
You've committed a serious offence here.
- But I'm not going to press charges. - What?
If you had a complaint, why didn't you come and see me?
We tried. Me, and my daughter and her husband, separately.
You didn't answer our calls. Your men threw us out of the hospital.
Then they wouldn't let us in again.
Look, you go home now. Send your daughter to me tomorrow.
My daughter can't come, Mrs. Sema. She won't leave home.
She's scared of everyone. She can't keep her food down.
She won't speak even to me. - Sema, we need to talk.
Mrs. Asuman, have your daughter come and I'll sort her out.
I know a psychologist if necessary. I'll arrange a free consultation.
She'll be fine. Trust me.
- Sema, we need to talk. - What about?
- Let's talk somewhere else. - Say whatever you have to say, honey.
We have nothing to hide from the lady here or Mustafa.
Sema!
- Why are you trying to talk her round? - I'm not talking anyone round.
Why deal with her? Why not just call the police and let them deal with her?
I'm trying to resolve this without any grief.
There's grief already. Big-time grief.
- I don't get it. - What?
Is there something you're scared of?
That report's genuine, isn't it? What's written there is true, right?
Is that report false?
Did a baby really die in the hospital and you signed a false report?
You didn't sign it, did you? Say you didn't, for God's sake!
Deniz!
Say you didn't sign. Say she's lying. Say I know you better. Please, Sema!
I don't believe it.
What?
You.. Doing this.. I don't believe it.
- This isn't about believing. - So what's it about?
- Deniz, please. Don't do this. - Do what?
Try to understand... Life... How the world works.
I... I don't understand life. Is that where this is leading?
A baby dies on your ward.
A report gets written blaming the mother. And you sign it.
The mother's life is ruined. And that's how the world works.
It's me who doesn't understand, huh?
We've been together five years.
You hide this even from me. From the person closest to you.
- It's me who doesn't understand, huh? - Yes, honey.
That's how the world works. You don't understand. You can't.
Because you've never thought about it. Because your world is this big.
In that world there's me, love, flowers, butterflies.
Maybe your family, your dear parents. Retired left wing teachers, idealists.
Cats. Other benign little creatures. Sumerian! Cuneiform writing. Hammurabi.
Dreams of being an actress. Two drama courses, three bit parts.
Tea, coffee, good wine... That's your world.
- A little girl's world. - Little girl's world?
You've no idea about the upkeep of this flat, how we go on holiday...
how we fly to London or New York. The money side is over your head.
Who pays for our dinners out, the gym, the pool? How?
Have you ever earned your own living?
Ever taken responsibility for the lives of other people?
You know how many people I have working for me?
How many people are above me? Who I have to give what reports to?
How many people want my job? How many vultures are lined up?
Have you any idea? Just waiting to pounce in a moment of weakness.
If that woman went to the prosecutor and filed charges...
if this baby affair hit the press or the media...
you know what would happen? You have no idea...
how someone's entire work experience, all their hard work, training, career...
can go up in smoke in a single day, an hour.
Can you imagine that, huh?
You cannot know this. Because you do not have such an education.
You don't have that kind of career, you don't have that kind of experience.
You have nothing to lose.
Sometimes the right thing can be wrong.
Sometimes, to prevent a greater evil, a lesser evil is acceptable.
Yes, sometimes, a baby can die. It might be fate, destiny, an accident.
Some people will be bitter, some fall apart, some recover.
That's how nature works.
You survive as long as you're fit. You survive as long as you want.
You wouldn't understand that. You're romantic. You can afford to be.
You have money in your pocket, people to love and look after you.
Keep your head in the clouds.
Live like a 30-year-old child in a fantasy world. Never grow up.
Don't grow up. Masquerade as me. Be Sema, mess everything up for me.
Throw everything in the trash!
- You aren't Sema. Sema would never... - Don't moralize at me!
This is real life. Open your eyes and look!
Sema wouldn't sign that.
I know Sema very well.
Sema would never lie to anyone. Especially to me.
She's my partner.. The only thing that gives meaning to my life.
Sema's not afraid of anyone.
But that isn't Sema.
You aren't Sema. You're out of your mind.
Real life.. It's not real. It's a nightmare!
I'm going to make you an offer.
To make up for your family's losses I'll pay you 10,000 lira. No, dollars.
And 5000 for you to forget everything you've seen today.
Just a second, Mrs. Sema. Excuse me.
Sister, I raised my hand at you. I hurt you. I'm sorry.
But you really went at me. You had me in a corner.
I snapped and couldn't help it. I'm sorry, OK?
That's the first thing.
And the second..
I need money badly. I always do. But...
What?
- But I also have a conscience, sister. - What does that mean?
Nothing.. Just an old-fashioned word.
What have you done?
- 2233. - How do you know that?
Mannak Noni said, sister.
- Who are you looking for? - Dr Sema.
Kurucesme Avenue No 85, Flat Three.
- What do you want with Mrs. Sema? - I have an appointment.
- Who is it? - Me... Asuman.
Asuman?
We made an appointment.
Can't find what you're looking for?
Get subtitles in any language from opensubtitles.com, and translate them here.