Hicran Tamasasi Hirslй™nmй™ Basa Sal -

"Explain? Explain how a piece of history becomes a piece of junk in your hands?" Dadaş stepped closer, his voice reaching the balconies of the three stories above them.

He opened his eyes, forced a terrifyingly tight smile, and said, "Fine. Başa sal (explain). How do you plan to fix it?"

He took the tape from Mammad. "Go get the tea leaves, Mammad. We will drink tea from a samovar with a blue handle. Just... don't explain anything else today."

Instead of exploding, Dadaş simply sat down, put his head in his hands, and laughed. "In the play, it’s a comedy," he whispered. "In my life, it’s a tragedy."