memories of songs

I was sitting at Central Park and thinking. It was such an ordinary day but i felt like there was a just a little difference. I heard something coming from deep and closed my eyes.

It is 6.45 pm. I am on Besiktas-Kadikoy ferry. The opera singer sitting behind me starts to sing an Azeri song. His voice is so smooth and magical. It makes me think that ‘ why don’t I have such a God-given voice!’ That’s why I listen to him more carefully but more sadly because song’s lyrics touch my heart with sorrow.

When i opened my eyes, I knew what is that difference. Another time, another country, another me but same music. I smiled and tought: Music is universal.

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