2nd Chapter…eşsiz ruh, kimsin sen?

2nd Chapter: 24.04.2023: …eşsiz ruh, kimsin sen?

Simdi. Öfke. Sen.

Through our interpretation of dünyaya bedel, we know that the essiz ruhu must attain knowledge herself – this means that Harun cannot speak to her directly. We have already discussed the relationship between telling and saying several times – knowledge, like emancipation, is something that can only be achieved individually. This means that the silence from araf runs through the whole forest or through the whole process of cognition.
If we want to find this myth in the real world, we can only do so through interpretation. Harun will find ways to communicate indirectly with his kinswoman, whereby we wonder how exactly this metaphysical transcendent connection between them must actually feel and communication is possible there as well.

Our first chapter ends shortly after the concert in Vodafone Park at the tearful mor ve ötesi concert in Trabzone. In doing so, we had worked out with our ‚bir derdim var‘ and ‚kaptan‘ interpretation that Harun here can no longer hold his concern for his soulmate’s ignorance. She seems to have forgotten not only their history but also what kind of love constitutes their relationship.
We are thus in the separation phase of our protagonists, which lets us first take a look at the songs ‚tünel‘ and ‚linc‘.

If we look at ‚tünel‘ superficially, the song is divided into three verses that describe developmental steps, each of which is introduced with a ’simdi‘.
At first, it becomes clear that the ruhu being addressed here seems to be getting worse and worse: ‚Şimdi kalbin / küçücük bir adamın‘; ‚Şimdi kalbin / epey kırılmış‘; ‚Şimdi kalbin/ kocaman bir yalanın / Sonsuz yüklerinden kurtulmak için çarpıyor‘. (Now your heart / a tiny man‘; ‚Now your heart / is quite broken‘; ‚Now your heart / of a huge lie / beating to get rid of endless burdens).
The second part of the song then explains why:

Cennetim
Cehennemim
Seni nasıl sevdim
Seni ne çok sevdim

My Paradise
My hell
How I loved you
How I loved you

Beni dinlemedin
Dinlesen ne kaybederdin
Cennetim, beni kaybettin

You did not listen to me
What would you lose if you listened?
My heavens, you have lost me

Here, then, we first find the interpretation we had worked out for ‚bir derdim var‘: Harun is very worried that his soulmate – his kaptan – has not formed a proper picture of the situation and is thus in danger of losing faith in him and herself. They would not find their way to each other and would not be able to tell their story.
In this context, the last lines in particular are revealing for us. (What would you lose if you listened? / My heaven, I have not given you up). The references to dünyaya bedel (but also hazinende) are obvious when we recall again the catastrophism of Haruns ruhu.
Thus, one of the after-effects of (maternal) narcissistic abuse is, that the ruhu does not want to hear about herself, is not allowed to believe in herself (or her lovability) and thus will assume the worst – not to be loved by her soulmate. After all, she has never had the experience of being loved for her own sake – that is, unconditionally.
Listening to him in this case means actually interpreting him or drawing conclusions. We had established that the path of ruhu leads through the songs mor ve ötesis. There she learns about herself, her history and her beloved, which leads her out of the tunnel (depicted as a forest and a diving helmet in the video of dünyaya) to the light (knowledge). Interpretation is not arbitrary, it is (to use Gadamer’s term) shaped by horizons of experience that merge with one another and form an intersection, in that there is always a more probable and less probable interpretations that is oriented according to premises, i.e. a framework that determines the perspective.
In the process, ‚linc‘ tells us a little more about the causes of the (supposed) separation:

First, we find some lines that we can relate to other songs, but which again take up the main themes of the narrative.
These include ‚dir daha doğmak‘ (to be born once more) which of course reminds us of Re and again brings up the soulmate.
Then ‚kırıldığını anlamasınlar kendi yolunda‘ (Don’t let them know you’re broken in your own way) which reminds us somewhat of Cemgazer (‚bilirim nerede kırıldın‘ – a song that picks up on the catastrophism of Harun’s ruhu in a particularly clever way) as well as the line ’neden gider gelir bu yalnızlık‘, which is somewhat reminiscent of araf’s line ‚[ask] hem var hem yok, bile bile‘ and of the fact that the ruhu has to make certain choices in order to find her way out of hellfire.
In this, linc’s title alludes to an unlawful punishment of a deed (considered wrong). What kind of deed this is initially remains in the dark, but it becomes clear that the ruhu has allowed herself to be deceived by rumours. In this context, this song also initially shows a deterioration (Yarım doğan bir acı tanesi / geriye dönemiyor; A half-born grain of pain / cannot return), which is followed by the call to ‚know one’s way‘ and ‚look beside oneself‘ as well as the statement/questions ‚Anlaşabilirdik / Kimsin sen? / Neden öldürdün beni?‘ (We could get along well. Who are you? Why did you kill me?)
The question ‚who are you?‘ ties in directly with the path of knowledge of essiz ruhu, who – if she does not realise who she is – actually kills him in a certain way, since her soulmate can only exist in togetherness. If she decides (for whatever reason) that she and Harun are not one, she and he do not exist either – ‚yok hicbir sey yok‘. At the same time, the path that the ruhu is supposed to know will probably lead her back to Istanbul, if we are to believe the video of dünyaya bedel.
So in the second chapter we also experience the movement to Istanbul, but accompanied by an inner development.
If we now continue to look for clues that point to a narrated myth in reality, the question arises, as to how this inner development of the ruhu should show itself? What to look for? And to what extent a second visit to Istanbul can be reconstructed, especially since the ruhu (according to our interpretation of the blue page) is not part of public life, but would mostly show up as text.
Since mvö has had a fairly ’normal‘ year apart from the huge event in May 2022, with hardly anything out of the ordinary after Trabzon, the question is where to look?

Again, our interpretation leads us into the world of social media – after all, that’s where ‚Sirenler‘ first showed his face .
A first glance at the Instagram page of mor ve ötesi, shows no real noticeable features – except for the further single release Adamin Dibi, which formally heralds a new round of the song cycle as the first song of the album.
In the lyrics to the post, mvö states that it is no coincidence that ‚Sirenler‘ begins with this song and links the video as well as the lyrics to gender discrimination in Turkey.
Since we are dedicating our own interpretation to adamin dibi, we will leave it at that at this point.

In fact, we find one/two posts on Harun’s Instagram page that might actually suggest a second chapter of the Sirenler myth, insofar as they look like ‚quotes‘ from mvö songs.

The first thing we notice in this context is the birthday post for Melisa Sözen. This was probably taken at night and possibly processed with a ‚modern gold filter‘ (or similar), because in comparison it appears strangely yellow.
The combination of yellow and black is reminiscent of the song camgezer, which is also heard in linc.
The latter is a song from the album ‚Masumiyetin Ziyan Olmaz‘, which we have already understood in connection with our dünyaya bedel interpretation as a special examination of the motif of Haruns ruhu’s illness. With camgezer, we find a particular aspect of the after-effects of narcissistic abuse thematised within it.
Thus we can translate camgezer as ’someone who walks on glass‘, which could be understood as an equivalent to the German phrase ’sich auf dünnem Eis bewegen‘. A description for someone who threatens to break in at any moment, if they make a wrong move. And in fact a common description for living with narcissists, who mostly look for reasons to vent their inner resentment. So one is always exposed to unforeseen attacks – like in war, to make references to dünyaya bedel again. This is a particularly difficult situation for children, because the people who are supposed to provide them with security are the source of the greatest insecurity. Someone growing up in this atmosphere will internalise that he cannot do anything right. He has the feeling of breaking in at any time without being able to do anything about it. In adulthood, the consequences of this internalisation become apparent: self-sabotage. Here a second translation of the title takes effect: someone who walks on broken pieces, which could describe the behaviour of self-sabotage. In other words, the automatism of a self-fulfilling negative prophecy – one does not avoid the shards (as it says later in the text), but walks on them voluntarily, so to speak, to forestall the inner perpetrator.
With this definition of camgezer, let’s look at the text a little more closely:

Ne zor oyundu
Kazanmadım
Alışkanlık kaderimdi / Aşk sahnesinde rol bekler gibi

What a hard game.
Did not win
Habit was my destiny
Like waiting for a part in a love scene

Hem sakin
Hem dengesizdim

Mektup bekler sarı siyah
Dolanırdım camlarda
Bilirim nerede kırıldın.
Neden âşıksın bana?
Neden âşığım sana?

Both calm
I was also unstable

Waiting for a letter yellow black
I used to wander round the windows
I know where you’re broken.
Why do you love me?
Why do I love you?

The relatively short text begins with the motif of the game, which we have mentioned many times before, but have never really been able to interpret, because it is indeed one of the main motifs and therefore needs space. Nevertheless, the situation of the lost game reminds us of adamin dibi (yalandan bir zafer şenliği) and Park (dün neler mi kaybettin/ belki zamanın yok şimdi) two songs from the Sirenler album which, if we start from the circular movement of the structural sketch, follow each other and indirectly describe – each with different aspects – the coincidence of victory and defeat.
Camgazer thus joins in here by beginning with the statement that the ‚game was hard‘ and that the lyrical ‚I did not win‘. In doing so, the third line sheds light on why the ruhu lost;
„Alışkanlık kaderimdi“ (habit was my fate), thus like our interpretation of internalisation and self-sabotage.
Here we find it interesting that mvö has chosen the word ‚kader‘ here (even though it may be inconspicuous to Turks). The word was probably taken from Arabic (Qadarīya). This is a current of thought in Islam known for its doctrine of free will. This thinking is therefore directed against predestination such as fate. From this perspketive, our ruhu has chosen failure out of habit. In doing so, we remember that the healing of the ruhu requires certain decisions in order to free herself from the purgatory of insecurity and, together with her soulmate, to usher in a turning point in time.
In connection with the photo that Harun posted. The following lines are then interesting again, here the game is clearly associated with the failure of a love relationship to materialise; ‚aşk sahnesinde rol bekler gibi‘ (like waiting for a role in a love scene).

So let’s first assume that Harun’s ruhu met her soulmate at the concert, was sent home without knowing anything about herself and her story, and saw this photo almost a month later.
Then she may have felt similar to what the first verse of Camgezer describes. As a loser who was waiting for a scene in a love story.
The second stanza focuses attention on a (black and yellow) letter, tells of the evasion of walking (i.e. walking around the pain/self-sabotage – changing behaviour), of a person’s vulnerability and the question of why Harun and his ruhu love each other.
So in the second stanza we actually see a modification of behaviour, through realisation that she has probably drawn from the letter. So here we see the path of dünyaya bedel in miniature.
In this context, it is perhaps interesting that walking over broken pieces is apparently meant to be an image of healing a process in the Turkish-speaking world. (?)
Let us look again at Harun’s text/letter on the photo:

biricik lunaparkım, sonsuz okulum, yengeç sepetinin süper yeteneklisi, canım sevgilim.

şu zıvanadan çıkmış dünyada senden ne kadar çok güç aldığımı gerçekten anlatamam. hele son yıllarda, becerebildiğim kadarıyla içimde ve çevremdeki öfke ve mutsuzluk girdabına direnmeye çalıştığım her an, desteğini hep yanımda hissettim. senin desteğinin neleri mümkün kıldığını saysam abarttığım düşünülürdü. ama mesela 28 mayıs gecesi seninle inönü’den eve yürüdük (3. resim, konser sonrası), abartmıyorum yani:) gücüne, yeteneğine, iyileşme ve iyileştirme azmine hayranım. beni hep duymak istemeni dilerim; yeni yaşın, “sen gülürsen dünya gülür” mottomuz çerçevesinde sana şahane hediyeler getirsin.
iyi ki doğdun canım melisa, seni çok seviyorum
doğum günün kutlu olsun!Harun Tekin 06.07.2022

my only amusement park, my eternal school, the super talent of the crab basket, my dear darling.
I can’t tell you how much strength I get from you in this crazy world. Especially in the last few years, whenever i have tried to resist the maelstrom of anger and unhappiness inside and around me as best i can, i have always felt your support by my side. if i were to list all the things your support has made possible, people would think i am exaggerating.
But for example, we walked home with you from inönü on the evening of 28 May (3rd picture, after the concert), so I’m not exaggerating 🙂 I admire your strength, your talent, your determination to heal and mend. I wish you would always want to hear me; may your new age bring you wonderful gifts as part of our motto „when you smile, the world smiles“.
Happy birthday dear Melisa, I love you so much.
Happy Birthday!Still Harun Tekin

If we relate this letter to camgezer’s text (as a black and yellow letter) and to Harun’s ruhu, and as we have come to know them in the meantime, they fit puzzle pieces into each other surprisingly well.
For example, Harun does not mention a name here at the beginning of his text; Melisa’s name appears the first time, after the paragraph – almost as a separate birthday greeting.
He calls his addressee the only amusement park, eternal school, super talent in a crab basket and beloved darling.
Let us try to reconstruct the person who can be meant by this description.
First, ‚biricik lunaparkım‘. In this description, we are somewhat irritated by the adjective that actually connotes the description erotically. Calling someone an amusement park is a bit strange, but understandable if you have a lot of fun with that person. Calling someone the only amusement park gives them a unique selling point, that seems strange in terms of friendly fun. The Lunapark clearly takes on an erotic connotation here. With the eternal school, too, it is the adjective that makes a difference. To call someone a school is not necessarily positive to begin with; in German, for example, ‚jemandem eine Lektion erteilen‘ has negative connotations. To be a perpetual school, however, means to learn perpetually from that someone. So between the lines we actually find here the ancient soulmates who already brought several myths into the world and thereby exchanged their knowledge (similar to what is depicted in deli). So they could actually learn something about each other or from each other. (As depicted in dünyaya bedel).
The super talent in the crab-basket sounds mysterious at first, but is (in German) a common metaphor for gender discrimination by one’s ‚own‘ gender.

The background to this is the assumption that crabs can simply escape from the crab basket (which holds them captive), but when they want to crawl out, they are pulled back down by other crabs. Women prevent women from getting out. If we remember that Harun’s ruhu has suffered from maternal narcissism and she cannot generate publicity compared to Harun, the ruhu could be reminded here, that it is about realisation – which is, seeing herself.
That she is not a ‚loser‘, has not only sabotaged herself but has been prevented from progressing.
The following text then lovingly describes the status she has with Harun. The juxtaposition of the support she has given him over the years and the example Harun sets is amusing. 🙂 He really does not exaggerate.
Because if he were to list everything, he would exaggerate, but the example he gives describes the walk home together after the concert in Vodafone Park.
Now, it is of course possible that Melisa and Harun had the same way home, but why does he emphasise this triviality? Especially with regard to the painstaking preparations for the concert, which are so clearly explained on the mvö-Insta page.
It is almost as if Harun wants to give another reference to his soulmate, who is meant here, because he even explicitly refers with photo to this evening, when they met in the first chapter’… ters yönden gelen …‘ – perhaps under the hot skies of Istanbul, perhaps as in the video to forsa: he saw her, pulled her into his train and sent her straight home. In the Middle Ages, such encounters were called exchanges of hearts, which usually took only for a moment.
The photo also provides another indirect clue.

The two were photographed in front of the Besiktas sign, which on the one hand is an indirect reference to the Gezi Park protests. So here, too, ‚park‘ creeps into the post and finds the finger pointing to the higher level of the story. In the process, we read in another post what constitutes the movement in gezi-park for Harun: the will to work together and the belief that another world is possible.
With regard to the club’s mascot, however, there is also an indirect nod to the bird motif and thus to the soulmate relationship between the two. So Harun is actually asking his soulmate the question, what do you – as my essiz ruhu – recognise in this picture.
So we see here an indirect invitation to make the seemingly impossible possible: to believe in oneself and the other more than society or the prevailing opinion allows. In other words, to establish a different image of humanity and thus to change the indoctrinated behaviour of mistrust and prejudice, of taking advantage and being taken for a ride, and to return to love – the great „we“ of humanity – against all odds.
To take the risk of believing in the decency and conscience of the other, even if there is nothing obvious at first. Where ‚faith‘ here corresponds to the power of judgement, to really be able to form an opinion.
Which also answers the final questions from Camgezer; ‚Neden âşıksın bana?
Neden âşığım sana?‘ – so that another world is possible.
In this, the concluding sentences of Harun’s post also fit our reading, for here Harun states that he admires his ruhu’s will to heal, wishes for her to always hear him, and reminds her of the common motto: when you smile, the world smiles.

If we again attach our interpretation of the mvö universe to these sentences, they can be tied seamlessly to our interpretation of dünyaya bedel:
Thus, we have read the ruhu’s path of knowledge as healing that she can bring about through the narrative in the songs of mvö, whereby healing is revealed in breaking the victim-perpetrator cycle and making peace with oneself – and through that with Harun. It is thus about restoring a basic trust in the world that has been taken away from ruhu.

Only the last sentences are explicitly addressed to Melisa Sözen, in which Harun congratulates her on her birthday and both acknowledge this with a routine ’seni cok seviyorum‘.

If we remain in the possibility of a real myth and take a closer look at Harun’s Instagram page, we also see that the last post by Harun and Melisa dates back to October 2021. During our research, it was not clear whether photos had perhaps been deleted. For the ruhu, however, it may well have looked like Harun and Melisa were no longer together.
This ‚reading/understanding of love‘, however, actually does not fit into mvö universe, since here the eşsiz ruhu is supposed to be convinced of her uniqueness, which she has lost through maternal abuse.
The reference to the only amusement park, for example, points in a very faithful direction, as does the simple fact, that love and freedom of choice have been divided between the soulmates, as well as the fact that Harun is obviously part of his ruhu – how could he possibly be with anyone else in this form of existence? At this point it is already clear that he is not deceiving either his ruhu or Melisa. It is more likely that Melisa knew long before the ruhu itself for whom Harun’s heart beats and decided to be part of this myth.
Than Harun’s remark that he wished she (his ruhu) ‚would always listen to him‘ comes into play again, which can also be understood as an allusion to tünel (beni dinlemedin / dinlesen ne kaybedersin). For the better she listens, the more insecurity and thus hellfire and pain she loses.
In the process, we find another post (just short before the stadium concert in Inönü) with Ihsan Oktay Anar, who is somewhat unintelligible and whose photo Melisa Sözen took.

dün akşam bizi izlemeye ihsan oktay anar geldi. dünyada şu an hayatta olan kim gelse daha fazla heyecanlanırdım, bulmakta zorlanıyorum. çok mutlu oldum, çok teşekkür ettim, “uzun ihsanefendi” hakikaten bis tane.Harun Tekin, May 2022

ihsan oktay anar came to watch us last night. I would be more happy about someone who is living in the world right now, because I have a hard time finding them. I was very happy, I thanked you very much, „long ihsanefendi“ is really bis one.Übersetzung mit deepl.com, but still Harun tekin

In this, the sentence ‚dünyada şu an hayatta olan kim gelse daha fazla heyecanlanırdım, bulmakta zorlanıyorum‘ (loosely translated: I would be even more excited if someone came who is currently living in the world and is hard to find) catches our eyes. We wonder what Harun is alluding to here. Whether he is perhaps quoting a book by Ihsan oktay anar, or mistaken?
If we look at this post through the foil of our truth reconstruction, this sentence makes sense again as a reference to his ruhu, especially if we short-circuit it with another Isahn post on his Instagram page from November 2016.
Here Harun posts a quote from Ihsahn that loosely translates as Ishan using time to tell stories rather than live them. Living stories would be roughly equivalent to our attempt to reconstruct a myth in reality. Harun and his ruhu would thus – unlike Ishan – live stories.
Harun posts the following in addition to the quote: „ihsan oktay anar. yaşayan en büyük yazarlardan biri. tanışmamış dostlar varsa, bu gri günlerde çok iyi gelecektir.“ (Isahn Oktay Anar. One of the greatest living writers. If there are friends who have not met, it will be very good in these grey days).
So we have two post with Isahn – who doesn’t live stories – and we have two sentences from Harun to Ishan, each about how it’s good in these days when friends haven’t met yet, as well as wishing someone would come to his concert who is hard to find/meet.
So Harun tells us that it is good not to have met yet and hopes to meet now (May 2022). Who it is specifically about remains open. But since it is also about a love affair between Harun and his ruhu, we can take the fact that Melisa takes the photo as a hint. As he does later on Melisa’s birthday, Harun asks his ruhu the question, „Who do I mean here? And in terms of the path of knowledge, we would guess she has to choose: Cennetim or cehennemim; does she walk over broken pieces and fall back into the torments of hell (ağrılar) or does she walk around it and realise what soulmate means and that she must bring heart and mind into alignment.
Another allusion to a mvö song could be the photo of Harun’s sister’s wedding, insofar as the wedding recalls a line of text from Iddia. A song that works with similar motifs as linc – after all, it already has ‚the allegations‘ or ‚accusations‘ in its title.
The image of the wedding appears directly in the first verse:

Gör, bu düğün
Bir devrin sonudur
Gör, bu hüzün,
Ne aşk ne de huzur

You see, this wedding
It’s the end of an era
You see, it’s the blues
Neither love nor peace

The first stanza consists of two pieces of information: 1. that this wedding, indicates the end of an era and that it is not this wedding that causes the sadness, but the sadness itself, which can neither allow love nor bring peace.
So the second part again describes the internalised feelings of failure, the self-sabotage of ruhu. In the refrain we then find further clues as to what has happened to the ruhu:

Sen küçük bir bebektin
Neler neler öğrendin?
Çiçeksiz bahçemizde
Kurşunlarla dans ettin
Kalbini kırmak gibi olmasın ama
Yalan söylediler sana

You were a little baby.
What did you learn?
In our flowerless garden
You danced with balls
I don’t want to break your heart (but).
They lied to you

What these lines mean can be seen with a quick look at Iddia’s video, which shows (middle-class) education as a catalyst of social injustice, cleverly adding a whole range of shahbaz motifs to it and thus, adding another perspective. Let’s take a quick look at the video:
Here we see the game again, this time in the form of a jump’n’run (eng. platformer) game, in which the bird motif is alluded to several times. Once at the beginning with the storks and towards the end of the game as angel figures of the killed players, as well as (from min. 3:00) when the last level takes place in front of an angel statue.

The video begins with a chronological classification that brings the video game and the audio cassette together, the 80s. In the first scene, an audio cassette is inserted with the word Başıbozuk, which is commented on with a thumbs-up.
If we recall the scenario we established for „kücük selvgilim“ (see short interpetation on my Instagram page), the thumb extended into the camera almost seems like a declaration of consent to play through the game without guidance.
In other words, to meet as people at eye level and, under certain conditions, to convince people of a kindred spirit – to weave a story together that is spun through invisible threads (allusion to Ovid’s myth tradition).
Accordingly, the game initially begins with only one player, who is randomly dropped by the stork over a house. We see here a modified bird motif; in the shape of the stork. The legend that the stork brings the children actually goes back to a German folk belief; the stork would bring children to mothers he found in swamps or caves, thus actually parentless children.
The ‚flight of the stork‘ is, so to speak, an inverted Sahbaz motif and stands for the lost ‚flight of the bird‘ and isolation – for the opposition as described in ‚bir derdim var‘.
What is particularly interesting here is that Harun is thrown into a living room where a football match between the lion and the bird – obviously Galatasaray and Besiktas – is taking place. So we find here – as in the poste for Melisa’s birthday – the bird motif hidden in the mascots. In addition, Harun fights and loses against the lion after failing to make the jump to university (min. 1:41) and slipping socially. And he (the lion) appears again when everything ends in a hopeless clash.

So the lion here is more than a reference to Galatasaray, just as the falcon of Besiktas is also more than a reference to the football team. If we relate the lion to the sahbaz, the latter stands for a we as well as decisions through discourse and argument, the former for domination, after all the lion is understood as the ruler of the animals.
With the jump’n’run game, therefore, another change of times is actually thematised – from the lion to the sahbaz, which does not take place here.
Harun’s path through the game is also reminiscent of a deli. He falls through all the instances and finds himself flying low in society until he finally finds himself in a street fight and faces the state power as the final enemy, like his ruhu in eski sarkisi.
The individual levels show different aspects of a life path. First, there are the instances that one can ‚earn‘ and that determine one’s income and career opportunities. Then comes the level of the career ladder, which ends with the lion and which Harun shares with other (green) Haruns. The fact that his competitors are identical to him at this point alludes to the artificially created opposition inherent in the supposed right of the strongest, because what exactly determines this strength?
And finally he ends up in the segment where the working conditions are so bad that they kill you. The only thing left is to take to the streets and fight the class struggle.
Here the video takes a surprising turn, because Harun dies (only indirectly) at the hands of the state, which shoots down the stork that falls directly on him.

The stork is, so to speak, a reminiscence of the initial situation that sets the premises of life and that brought him there – he died of his bad premises.
This alludes both to permeability and the dismantling of elites in a society, which would make this class struggle obsolete, and to the sahbaz, the kindred spirit, which could be a reason to bring about an improvement in social possibilities. For then we are indeed one human family, as Harun wrote in the Bir Gün.
For shortly afterwards Harun, as a soul (‚angel’/’sahbaz‘), observes the scenario and sees all parties fighting against each other, with the lion joining the fight as a mascot in perfect form. Shortly afterwards, everyone finds themselves in a mentalstate – the careerist, the policeman and Harun. All of them, who just a moment ago were the greatest enemies, hover over the scenario together and are at a loss in the face of the senseless fight in which they will soon have changed roles again. At the same time, Harun in particular looks a little startled into the camera before the picture disappears.

The scenario ends in a tape mess, which is somewhat reminiscent of the literal meaning of Başıbozuk (head broken), but above all breaks the game, with which we immediately associate Oyubozan.
In Iddia, the soul-mate, therefore, is applied to all people. The disease of kardeslik, the great forgetting – which is again thematised on a personal level in Oyubozan – thus seems to have afflicted all people.
The educational path (course of play) that Harun depicts is far removed from his own, but it describes the path of forgetting that his kardeslik might have taken and in which his head broke – like so many heads.
So the video of Iddia shows the societal dimension of emotional violence (there are already studies that understand authorities (in language and gesture) as a form of psychological violence). We can ask ourselves how this affects children and young people who are constantly being judged, punished and screened out – not to mention the influences of competition and comparability of the use of new media etc. .

So Harun and his ruhu are trying to bring their myth to life under really difficult conditions. Because we can imagine how the ruhu (who wasn’t allowed to be herself) walked through these instances – instances that thrive on children moving and presenting themselves safely within them; in other words, having already grown into these market mechanisms – probably just as Harun did through the jump & run game.

When the chorus says: You were a little baby / What did you learn / In our flowerless garden / You danced with balls.
I don’t want to break your heart (but).
They lied to you.

Here Harun again addresses the internalised behaviours of his ruhu. What she had learned from her early ages: not to be right and not to be able to do anything right, which continued at school as a place of competition and evaluation. So self-esteem continued to be continuously shot at (you danced with bullets, as if you were always at war).
What Harun is getting at in the last line is the fact that learning is not losing. Learning is gaining knowledge, that should be the goal of all learning, not the grade at the end of the year. The path to knowledge is shaped by prior knowledge, which is why educational opportunities and social background are still so closely intertwined.
In the following line, we see a reversal of events (i.e. a path of healing) as in Camgezer’s work:

„Gör, bu hüzün,
Ne aşk ne de huzur
Gör, bu yüzün
Ne mutlu ne cesur“

So – like the birthday post for Melisa Sözen – the photo of Harun’s sister’s wedding can belong to the training situation we see in Oybozan in the video. Harun and his ruhu are separated from each other – as in the sirenler myth. It is about self-knowledge and behaviour that can only be consistently changed through intrinsic motivation. If Harun does not want to be an authority for his ruhu, they have to find other ways of healing.
That this works is shown by the songs themselves, in which a respective gain in knowledge can be read: from walking on broken pieces to walking around the broken pieces, or from recognising that it is a certain sadness that does not allow love to a happy and brave face.

A development that can also be seen in linc.
Here, too, the ruhu believes she has been deceived by Harun. Here, linc begins with the statement that being reborn, as well as a certain path and drops that seep through the spirit, can deceive.
In the first lines, then, we already read the scenario of the soul mates in condensed form: they find themselves in circumstances in this life that are characterised by toxic thoughts that choose the path to darkness.
In this context, we have already established at the beginning of our analysis that if Harun is a part of his ruhu, another love relationship is actually pointless.
So the lines „Yine gürültü var/ Seni kandıran / Yanında yurdunda önünden giden rivayetler mi var“ (There’s noise again, He who betrays you, are there rumours going on in your home ?) could actually be understood as countering the accusation of cheating. Then the following questions also make sense: ‚We could get along / Who are you / Why did you kill me?‘
For if the ruhu not only believes she is soulmate with Harun, but has internalised him, she knows that such rumours are nonsense.
Know your way, in this sense, does not necessarily refer to Istanbul – where the ruhu is supposed to come again – but the way out of hell, to the side of her soulmate. From this point on, they are also physically closer to each other.
This means that here, too, we find the movement that knowledge leads to healing, insofar as the ruhu is encouraged again and again to think outside the box and to lean outside the box – to take the risk of going beyond her previous experience.

Which leads us directly to the next and penultimate song quote: The Post from 25 October 2022. With the somewhat sober lyrics: 23.10.2022, Izmir.

Here we see Harun on stage framed by a golden glow, almost as if he had met the sun in the möv universe. This is to be understood as a direct, albeit retold (because it has emerged from the darkness of the black and white video) quotation from son sabah:

Her şeyden bir şarkı çıkmaz ya.
Her şarkıdan da çıkılmaz ya.
Kalbin de ruhun da farkında.
Hikayen bitmemişti aslında.

You can’t make a song out of everything.
You can’t get out of every song.
Your heart and soul are aware of that.
Your story was not really over.

Hakikat neye yarar göz yalansa.
Bilsen hiç ağlar mıydın sonunda.
Duyar mı ki, anlar mı sorunca.
Koca bir an yansın mı karşımda.

Was nützt die Wahrheit, wenn das Auge lügt?
Wenn du es wüsstest, würdest du dann am Ende weinen?
Wird sie hören, wird sie verstehen, wenn ich frage?
Sollte ein ganzer Moment vor mir brennen?

Belki son sabahtır.
Belki de bahardır.
Al, aklımı al da yerine koy zamanı.
Başka bir karanlık istemem ki artık.
Rüyadan güzelse ah bu aşktır, aşktır.

Maybe it’s the last morning.
Maybe it’s spring.
Here, take my mind and turn back time.
I don’t want any more darkness.
If it’s better than a dream, then it’s this love, then it’s love.

Son sabah is certainly one of the most beautiful love songs of our time, and it unfolds its full power in the context of the Sirenler myth.
Here we hear Harun again tell of his ruhu, whereby again all perspectives on her and her story are mixed.
So on the one hand she is addressed directly (You can’t make a song out of everything. / You can’t get out of every song.), she is told about her (Your story wasn’t really over.), we find a series of rhetorical questions (What good is truth when the eye lies?/ If you knew, would you cry at the end?/ Will she hear, will she understand when I ask?/ Should a whole moment burn before me?) and in the chorus a decision for this love that is more beautiful than a dream.
So at the beginning we again have the reference to her own songs, which always allows for references to dünyaya bedel, whereby we already see thematised here her efforts to use the songs as an instrument of knowledge, which confirms the assumption – ‚her story‘ was not yet over.
Therefore, the following questions remain rhetorical: What good is cognition if the eye does not see it? –

That is, if the ruhu remains in the text and only appears in the pictures as fairy light (as a fairy-tale promise). But would you be moved by the ending if you knew it beforehand?
And finally, Harun’s consideration of whether his ruhu is already ready to understand him correctly when he asks her (although here, as always, what he asks remains open). And finally, the decision to take the risk of whether she understands him or not.
In Rafrain he justifies his decision:
In doing so, he begins with the typical mvö countermovement, because in the mvö universe there is a ‚last morning‘, the last dawn, which leads to real change and a new era. Son Sabach is, so to speak, the equivalent of a ‚morning that does not exist‘ or a ‚morning of lies‘, because everything (actually) remains in darkness (without change).
Here, however, Harun decides to trust his ruhu. After all, this could be spring in her flowerless garden (Iddia: Çiçeksiz bahçemizde). With all the knowledge the ruhu has generated, they can turn back the time when there were only colours (sadece renkler vardı, uyan).

For if anything is more beautiful than a dream, it is this love.
So when it comes to bringing the ruhu’s path of realisation to a good end, son sabah is a key song because, like the echo of the other side, it brings both closer to each other.
So here at least one realisation seems to have been mirrored from Harun’s side. If we now look at the following posts through our foil of the real myth, several phrases in Winter 2022 are at least ambiguous.

Apart from the fact that Melisa no longer appears explicitly, which is perhaps related to the new era from Iddia.
So too in December 2022 on the ‚birthday‘ of dünyaya bedel, the song would have been both occasion and accelerator of the dreams they could fulfil in 2022. It could be here with ‚dünyaya bedel‘ indirectly addressing the ruhu, who after all came to the concert for a certain occasion, namely to remember her past life and greatness because of her uniqueness.
Harun’s New Year’s post also has a tendency to be indirect. Moreover, he posts a movie poster of a film that is about changing the world over several lifetimes, where there is always a couple that works together for the freedom of people.

In this, the text to the post seems to be characterised by an urgency to convince someone that she have a blind spot (a behaviour she don’t see, of which she is not aware) and to remind her that everything is connected.

And finally, the birthday post to Sirenler of 21.01.2023, in which he speaks almost exclusively in songs (Canavar, Hazinende [explicitly quoting ‚your dream is small] and explains his definition of the narrator in Forsa, as well as once again recapitulating the video of Forsa and emphasising the unwavering belief in a certain thing. It is as if he wants to give his ruhu the clues she needs to understand him correctly.
It is interesting in this context that in our ‚dünyaya bedel‘ interpretation we have identified Hazenende as the very last ruler who prevents the ruhu from attaining her greatness and thus the great dream (the yeni sarki).
Nevertheless, the turn of the year is also marked by another song that leads directly to (20)23: Tamiri mümkün bir konsert filmi.

So the Film – wich was broadcast throughout Europe – stands in direct connection with the very concert that we have identified as a psychological session a la ‚kara kuttu‘.

Let us take a look what ‚tamiri mümkün in Inönü‘ yields for our reading of a myth in reality.

First of all, tamiri mümkün is from the album ‚Güneşi beklerken‘, which in the mvö universe we can now directly interpret as ‚waiting for knowledge‘ of the ruhu.
Tamiri Mümkün tells of a healing and fulfilment of dreams without the ruhu noticing. First, the song begins with the account of a life striving for worthless things and remembering the seasons (i.e. the time that has passed so far) and ends with the reflection on the small things, on small moments of happiness (which is somewhat reminiscent of Yalnız Şarkı). So it describes how time and life pass by the dream.‘

So it begins in the little dream of ruhu (and actually again with disappointment), as we know it from Hazinende.
The refrain makes the countermovement to this: it assumes that the heart can be healed, that dreams do come true if you want them to, without realising it. This seems strange at first, because it puts the focus less on the effort to dream and much more on the will. And we know that one of the consequences of abusing ruhu is to become unsettled.
From the next line we hear why the ruhu cannot notice:
Herkes kendini yaşar. / Her çocuk hayal kurar. / Tamiri mümkün kalbinin. (Everybody lives for themselves / Every child dreams / Your heart can be repaired).
In ‚herkes kendini yasar‘ we find the two sides of the Sirenler narrative connected only by the invisible interweaving of myths. As long as the two sides do not explicitly meet, she cannot notice the dream fulfilment.
Every child dreams, brings back into play the little lovers whose shared dream is to be told here.
This dream designates exactly the place – where they are broken and what needs to be repaired.
It is a matter of bringing the heart back into harmony, of knowing and trusting each other.
The broken toy (kırık dökük oyuncaklar) corresponds to the broken childhood that ruhu does not believe she can overcome when it says: Artık vakit geç diyorsun / Zaman nedir anlamadan. (You say it’s too late / Without understanding what time is.) At the same time, Harun asks her to trust him and not to hurt him. This is the autoaggressive behaviour that divides her every time, because on the one hand she cannot accept Harun’s love and at the same time she will blame him for it.
An impossible state for lovers. Time must pass for their two hearts to grow together again and beat in unison so that the ruhu is ready to be loved and to love in order to finally achieve the peace the world deserves.

So we see that at the end of the second chapter there is again the concert of Inönü, again Park sounds (even if Park was not part of the film) this time directly under the star of the ruhu’s healing and in the context of the 7th album (which anticipates the path of knowledge of dünyaya bedel). If the ruhu was in Istanbul, she will have gone home, again a little smarter, but still hidden in the text.

And without knowing for sure, the third and final chapter of the Sirenler narrative will have begun. Just as Harun once said when hosting Istiklal in the Flower Passage, ‚and suddenly what we are talking about is reality‘.

It looks like our method is fruitful for the Sirenler myth. After all, we keep finding confirmation of our reading, in the place where Sirenler first showed himself: social media.

What we cannot answer without further ado is the question of whether and when the ruhu came to Istanbul again. For us, only the red side remains visible, the side of the public figures.

So the quention ist, what will tell Istiklal, and why it is this Song who connected everything?.

Are you ready to enter the new era, in which we understand the small we, as the big we: in every respect!