trip to india. mmmmh, this sentence, which has a very exotic and adventurous meaning, attracted me as well. However, due to my financial situation and environment, such a journey was not possible. Because a 10-year passport is around 1200 liras, a plane ticket to India is about 5000 liras, eating or drinking is not an amount I can afford. Moreover, even if I can afford, I did not have a friend who would come to India with me. In this situation, an opportunity arose. First of all, I must tell you about the congregation of preaching.

The congregation of preaching is an international Muslim organization. What they do is very similar to missionary work. you go to other lands voluntarily, you strengthen your own faith and invite people to the mosque and strengthen their faith. They are very programmatic and tolerant. If you have a job, they will not come and talk to you, they will not talk with non-Muslims, they will only talk Muslims, they will definitely oppose the armed struggle by saying that jihad will be within ourselves first, they have no sheikhs, they will not ask you for money, they will not give you money, etc. In fact, it is a very reasonable congregation compared to the others. I’ve heard that even the Israeli government tolerates it.

The connection of this congregation with me stems from my brother. He is a member of this community. This is how the Indian issue came into being. my brother made an offer like, ‘Do you want to come, I’ll pay for your all travel?’. I thought, I had nothing to lose (I thought wrong, I lost 6 kg). I thought that even if I was exposed to Islam a little, I would travel, I would bring my passport for free, and I accepted. That’s why I went to India. I never left the house as if I was going to India. I took my jacket and went out, met my brothers at the airport. After a six and a half hour journey, we landed in New Delhi. As soon as I stepped out of the airport door, a heavy air hit my face. I have never smelled such a horrible smell in my life. In a word, it stinks. Normally, our noses are lazy when it comes to smelling, they get tired and, no matter how disgusting, they soon get used to that smell and you don’t hear it. but you can’t get used to it because every single point of this damn new delhi stinks in a different disgusting way. The weather is always foggy, I realized later that this happens because of air pollution.

We took a taxi from the airport to the center of the congregation of preaching. I met another fruit of the Indian chaos there too. traffic. I’m a person living in Istanbul, I’ve been in traffic for my whole life, but this is something else. No car uses rearview mirrors. When I say not using it, I do not mean that people does not look, I mean that the rear view mirrors are generally broken, if not broken, they are closed. The noise pollution is at the highest level as they deal with the horns. they’re honking the every fuckin’ little horn.

We reached the center of preaching community, albeit with difficulty. After some sleep, I went down to dinner. On dinner everyone two people was eating from the same plate. I have better news, there is no spoon. you eat by hand. Fuck you, I won’t eat your food, I got up from the table. There was a Kyrgyz who spoke Turkish, I took him with me in the bazaar for half an hour and bought a spoon. I walked around with a spoon in my pocket the whole trip. I was always ready for dinner. Toilets in the center was disgusting. I’m too much of a ‘sissy’ person to drink from the glass that someone else drinks water from, I don’t know about you, but these are terrible things for me.

The food is also disgusting. The smell of that spice is different, its taste is bad. they have a bread that looks like turkish pide, I’m a son of a bitch that you wouldn’t eat it even if you were starving. and when I saw the dirt in the food shops, I knew I was going to lose weight. If you are going to India, take canned food and rusks with you.

After staying in the center for 3 days, they decided to send us to bhopal. We will go to Bhopal and tell people about Islam. They said there is a train, Indian trains are famous. When they noticed that we(I) are not much happy, they said this is first class or something, and we bought the tickets. We went to the station, they showed us the train to take. The train is something like a 1918 model locomotive. We drove 12 hours. At least, our section wasn’t too crowded. We went to bhopal centre. in the morning they transferred us to a south african base of the congregation.

We had bought a flight ticket from Bhopal to New Delhi for the 15th of November. We will return to Turkey on November 19. We are planning to visit places like Taj Mahal etc. for 3 days in between. was not fortune, we couldn’t visit those.


The south african community is full of young people. There are members between the ages of 22-30 who have graduated from a 6-year madrasah. and i can get along with the guys, the english of the indians was terrible. I spend my days reading books, praying, listening to conversation, praying again, walking around telling people about Islam and praying again. I also got used to the food in bhopal, they even started to bring very good food. I chat with these south african kids during the day. No matter what we talk about, the issue always comes to the women of that country.
-where are you from ?
+turkey
How are Turkish girls?
+ very bad, don’t get involved at all.

This was my first dialogue with the man. madrasah graduate horny’s is pretty interesting. We are talking about the Syrian Civil War, I don’t understand why they are doing it, the subject comes to Syrian girls. They asked me how many wives I had, when I first went, they were surprised to hear that I was not married. Muslims are truly monsters, I saw again that I am not exaggerating.

one day, I’m walking around a neighborhood like this again, we tell people how great God is and all shits like that. We went to a house, the man welcomed us in, we entered. There, I realized that poverty is not the only reason for these men’s filth. The man is sitting in the Cleopatra armchair at home, in front of him is an LCD TV, but the whole place is in shambles. I mean the Cleopatra chair, what kind of pleasure pimp is this? He wanted to offer us tea, we said we wouldn’t want it. then gave water. have one of the south african guys with me, originally from the caribbean. He went to madrasah education in South Africa. I know that I shouldn’t drink every water, I checked to see if this guy was drinking, then he drank. I said, if he drank, I’ll drink too, but i wasn’t know that the dude has been there for 4-5 months.

We returned to the mosque where we were staying, in the evening they gave us a terribly beautiful feast. Fried chicken, fish, all kinds of fruit, pineapple comes, papaya goes, meatballs come, salad goes, nothing like that. Especially a dream night for me by Indian standards. They also brought a coke. I said God, I’m going to fuck myself with pleasure. I finished my meal, took my coke and went to the terrace of the mosque. I put on my headphones, lit my cigarette. I danced shaking my ass, I’m so happy. Like an oasis in the desert that night, I’m on top. My fall will be much faster than this.

It’s night, we’re going to bed now. I have a jumpsuit inside a mosquito net with a zipper, I curled up in it. I got a little pain in my stomach, at the same time there was a feeling of lassitude in my whole body. I’m feeling really bad. When I felt I was going to vomit, I ran to the bathroom upstairs and vomited as soon as I entered there. my beard and stuff became vomit. I turned on the water, washed my hands, my face, my beard. I was took out the dinner completely, chickens are swimming in the sink. there were south african people smoking on the top floor, they came and brought some water. They said go to sleep, we will clean it in the morning. And I went to bed.

I couldn’t sleep, my stomach started to hurt again. around 1 am. I got up and ran to the toilet again, this time we have the same old Turkish style toilets(ground toilet). I ran to it in the back. I vomited as soon as I got in, but because there was nothing left in my stomach anymore, I vomited bile. When I vomited more, shits came out from my behind. i realized i had shit on myself. I wasnt aware that there is a problem at the bottom until then. I looked up, and noticed the all shit. I gagged again at the same time, threw up. And came out from behind again, I fucked up. I lift my head from the vomit, gag again in a second, and shit myself as I gag. I can’t hold my ass, it’s an incredible weakness, so there is no such a thing. my vomiting stopped, but my shit didn’t stop. I took off the sweatpants and underwear. I even shit on a t-shirt. I’m in a really terrible situation. vomit on the floor, splashed on the walls. I was set up and started shitting in the toilet again, because it doesn’t stop. shit is also bouncing left and right. There are turning points in people’s lives, this was not such a point for me, but my whole self-confidence was destroyed. I, felix dzerjinski, am in india, naked in the toilet of a ridiculous mosque and all around me is a mixture of shit and vomit, I put my hands in my head and started thinking about the devastation of just shitting on me. The situation is really humiliating, honor and dignity. human dignity must overcome my condition before torture. I don’t remember ever feeling this way in my life. With the urge to live inside of me, I started to clean up. I cleaned everything up pretty shit, then I realized I was naked. I also washed the shitty tracksuit well with my hands so that I could go down and get dressed, put it on and went down to my ass. I got dressed, stuffed the dirty clothes in the trash and went to bed. I slept so soundly that I fell asleep as soon as I put my head down. because I’m physically exhausted upstairs in the toilet, my hands are tired from cleaning shit. My stomach shrunk from vomiting. psychologically, it’s a complete wreck, I’m still not sure I can handle it. After a certain age, a person can’t take it when they shit under it. That’s the story of that damn night.

it’s morning. We will go to another mosque. But I can’t stand. When we arrived at the other mosque, I asked about the toilet because it was more important to me than eating and drinking. There was only one toilet in the big mosque. I entered, no such a nightmare. I will spend most of my day here, and the toilet is terrible. spider web all around, blackened stones from dirt. There is an insect with such claws, its appearance is frightening. I saw that the animal also has wings, it flies. there is no escape from you, are you god damn Allah or something you fucking beetle?

I stayed in that mosque for 4 days. I think I passed out for a while. I had a hallucination. do people hallucinate from shitting? How is this diarrhea? Lesions appeared on my teeth, an indescribable pain. Indian dudes start to come and watch me, am I a monkey or what the fuck are you watching me? 6-7 men stand in front of me and watch me, I am lying there. they’re making out among themselves. I said to my brother, take me to my homeland. The man was so scared that he said, ‘I can’t answer to my mother if you die around here’, he said okay. I only have Turkey in my mind. my country. my dear country. I dream that I will eat iskender when I return to my country. I think about Turkish food all the time because once I was disgusted with the food there. I ate only 4 olives and 2 bananas in the last 4 days, that’s exactly what I ate.

We bought the tickets early and flew to New Delhi. We went to the centre. We were there around 12 at night, we have to go to the airport at 3 o’clock because there are planes for turkey at 6 o’clock. It’s my last hour.

He was imprisoned for 10 years, one day before his release, a person puts his head on the pillow and that night does not pass, that night does not pass, one day before he is discharged from military service, that’s exactly how I feel. I need to sleep for 3 hours, but because I haven’t slept at all. I laid my head on the pillow, and suddenly the drums began to beat. Hindus were having a wedding outside. Hey, fuck your mother and wife, what kind of nightmare is this?it doesn’t end. I’m going to fuck myself with anger. It’s 3 o’clock. we went to the airport. The person who took us slept on the road while driving. The nightmare is definitely not over. I’ll lay it down and slit his throat, son of a bitch. Finally, it’s time to board. I went through passport control saying, “Fuck your mother and your country”. I came to myself the moment I took in the hometown air inside the turkish airlines plane. Six and a half hours later I was at my hometown. It’s like a dream, because I didn’t believe I’d be back. I had such a mentality. I thought I wouldn’t be able to return. Turkey seemed like a dream. We landed, I wanted to kiss the ground, but there is no ground at the airport. It’s very big missing, I’m calling out to the authorities from here, please, we need to kiss the ground sheep when we land at the airport.

that’s how my trip to india ended. I won’t go even if they fuck my ass again. I don’t go over the edge.

Fuckin’ India, disgraced son of bitch of civilization.