A Turkish novelist finds hope – in prison

Turkish novelist Ahmet Altan writes:

In November, we were given a radish along with our meals at lunchtime. My cellmate put that radish in a paper cup and left it beside the iron bars at the window. The radish began to rot.

“Recently, a green sprout emerged from it. It grew and grew. Little white flowers blossomed at the end of the sprout. Each morning, I get up and look at those flowers. I witness that great cliche: The radish is dying and becoming alive at the same time.

A miserable radish creates flowers out of its own decay. Without giving up its optimism, it reaches out to the future as it dies.

Perhaps I will have fallen sick by the time you read this. But what difference does it make? If a radish dying in a paper cup can blossom, an old man in prison can be optimistic.

We aren’t going to be more despairing than a radish now, are we?

(Ahmet Altan, a Turkish novelist, journalist and founder of the now-defunct newspaper Taraf, wrote this for Global Opinions in the Washington Post. He is the author of the memoir that was smuggled out of prison, “I Will Never See the World Again.”)