Hi there, I’m Ian McEwan,
and today I’m going to be reading you a story
as part of the Cambridge At Home Experience.
And I’m very pleased indeed to be able to play a part
in supporting teachers
around the world in these extremely
difficult and tragic times.
So today’s story is Dreaming of Life After Lockdown,
by Zeynep Uluğ from Turkey.
It has been months
since the last time I hugged my friends,
felt the shimmering sun on my skin,
as I walk freely in the streets,
or went somewhere instead of the garden of our house
that my dog uses as an excretion area.
And yet now, here I am,
with the clothes specially prepared for the day
the lockdown is over, and my sneakers,
which I never wore for months on my feet before,
and I’m cycling to see my friend,
who I’d never been separated
from for more than a month before.
I dreamt so much about this day that now I cannot be sure
whether I’m still in a dream or not.
I was passing the streets quickly,
but not too fast
so that I can embrace every little breeze caressing my face
and each unique scent of the street,
which I was forbidden just a day before.
I’d shuffle these streets numerous times in my life,
however it never felt so relieving.
Besides the feeling of ultimate freedom,
there was an ivy consisting of anxiety
and fright coating my body.
It felt like any second a police car could pull me aside
and charge me a fine for disobeying the self-isolation,
or my mum could call me back to get home as soon as possible
and make sure I don’t touch anything or anyone.
I had this urge to cover up my mouth,
or even to stop inhaling the air,
thinking that it’s possible,
what if someone infected me or passed the street earlier?
People were outside enjoying the sun while it lasts,
and every time I passed by someone, they would flinch,
as I do.
I wondered, what
if we never get back over this trauma?
As much as every single one
of us wanted everything to go back to the way it was,
we were all aware
that it wasn’t even a possibility.
A spark of joy appears
as I pass through the well-remembered streets,
which tells me her home is just a few minutes away.
I get a whole butterfly field inside my stomach,
and I think I’m going to fall off my bike
because of dizziness.
I saw her,
leaning on the rock wall on the sidewalk.
She noticed me right after,
and started to jump and wave simultaneously.
I didn’t bother to kick the kickstand
as I get off,
I just let the bike fall to the ground.
We hugged each other so tight
that her ribs almost pierced my skin.
We were swinging as we hugged.
A few seconds standing on one foot,
and then, as the other lifts,
lean into the other side at the same time.
Eyes firmly closed and lips wide open to the sides,
I felt relieved.
We went to the park we spent our childhood in.
This place saw us go through our first loves,
first heartbreaks,
first attempts of sneaking out of the house,
first training together,
first singing and crying out loud together,
and many more firsts in our lives.
And now, here we were again,
our first reunion since the quarantine.
For almost half an hour, we lay on the grass,
listening to songs on the speaker,
and daydreaming.
It was something we’d do all the time,
one of us starts to tell a dream,
and we keep adding to it.
Sometimes, it goes to extreme places,
like we’ve suddenly become famous actors
and our life becomes a real-life movie,
and sometimes we just dream of walking on the beach
as the sun goes down.
This time, our dream was probably the best
of all we ever had.
We’re sitting in a café, I started the dream,
with everyone we love,
the ones we don’t get to see much lately,
the ones that live in different cities,
the ones we will never be separated from again.
It is summertime,
we have all our swimsuits under our clothes, she added.
The scene was in front of my eyes.
We were all laughing and joking.
We’re eating ice cream.
It’s summertime, there has to be ice cream,
I said with a little mockery.
And of course,
they dragged us all the way to THE ice cream shop,
like they are allergic to any other ice cream out there.
We chuckled,
because that was exactly what happens
when any of us wants to eat some ice cream.
Now, we were sitting
with crossed legs opposite each other.
Just a few days later,
that will no longer be a dream, she said,
that will be our life.
We should have known better than wasting our time,
we should have seized upon every moment.
This lockdown made me realise
that we don’t care about people we aren’t on good terms with,
we don’t appreciate in our lives.
We don’t appreciate the opportunity to see
each other and have a sleep-over together or go out together.
We take this life for granted.
We never say sorry.
We never step back and apologise.
She kept quiet,
and we sat there until the sunset,
and then we headed back home.
Wait, hold on,
said the voice on the other end of the phone,
there is no way that it would be like that.
First of all,
do you really think we will have the time
for your nonsense philosophical speeches?
We’re going to have to do so much talking
that we’ll have to stay up all night to talk.
Also, we will not be dreaming anymore,
because we will go on holiday as soon as the lockdown ends
and live our best lives.
Fine, I may be exaggerating a little,
but staying inside
for months isn’t helping with my mental health.
I do overthink
and do these philosophical speeches in my head.
Anyway, I just want this thing to be over.
I do too,
but stay strong, it will be over soon.
So see you soon.
I wish.
I hung up the phone and started reading my book.
Goodbye, and congratulations to Uluğ for a lovely story.