My teacher asked me “Why did you make such a simple mistake?”.
“I did it because I wanted to.” I said.
With a surprising manner, he said “What’s the meaning of that? Are you kidding me?”.
“I made that mistake on purpose. I knew the right answer since the very beginning.” I said.
He surprised so much more than before. There’s no doubt that he has never seen such an interesting person before. He made some weird gesture which insinuates that I lost my mind. I smiled. I turned back to leave, but suddenly changed my mind and said to myself: “You started this thing, don’t drop it by the wayside then.” After this, I started to speak again.
“I’d never know until I try. I’d never know until I experience it… Yes! I made that mistake on purpose because I love saying don’t know about something. I love wisdom, not being wise. I don’t need to be seen as a smart person from other people! The only thing I need is my wisdom. Not even that, more precisely. I love being silent. I love being a person without claims. I heard the voice of void, absence and silence which raises through their deepest corners. So? What did our beloved folk singer, Orhan Gencebay say? “Nobody is infallible”. I love being a loyal servant to my god. I’ve never believed perfectionism. I’ve always looked for the truth in those ruined hearts. I’ve never wanted neither a perfect friend nor a splendid partner. I’ve looked for the one who is respected by others, not perfect. I only chose to be a servant to my god. I chose the prophet of Islam who says “Thank god, I make mistakes. Thank god I am a servant of him.”
Teacher’s confusion left his place to tears. He was an assistant professor before. Then he stayed up every night in order to be an associate professor, and now he’s doing his best to be a professor. So? Could he say bravely “I don’t know” like this guy does? Does that knowledge of him make himself happy as much as this guy? What will happen when he die? Will all of these years of experience die with him? Ask him who is the prophet of Islam, and hear nothing. As you know, three major requirements for being an intellectual person are insulting your motherland, being a socialist and heathen. When would he be all ears to someone who says “2 + 2 = 5”? He thought all of these things and write 100 with a scratch on the paper while his tears were dropping on it. He didn’t even read it! I, on the other hand, was smiling because my grade went up from double-digit to triple-digit. I’ve really learned the topic and that ended for me there. I don’t need to get evaluated by someone else, why would I be happy for that? But there’s one thing that I can’t ignore. I hope those tears and that single scratch demolished his hard and selfish ego, and this hope makes me very happy.
When this memory came into his mind, a huge smile garnished the face of that wise old man. His mind was so clear and limpid that he remembered every single memory down to the last detail. Even if his beard got whiten and his face wrinkled, he wasn’t becoming senile, rather his mind was getting much more calm day by day. “What happened to that associate professor?” question passed through his mind. Given that the age of that wise old man is about 70, that associate professor -probably he became a professor though- would be death for a long time. In fact, our wise grandpa had the knowledge as much as that professor in his youth. There wasn’t much difference between their knowledge level. However, that wise grandpa turned his knowledge into wisdom. But knowledge of professor stayed in the same level. These two facts were conflicting between them. So who win? God knows. But there’s one thing which is known, our wise old man has a lot of memories to tell us.