last night I met a kurdish man outside a store who didn’t speak any language I speak. He was disturbed, disoriented and looked me in the eyes and said, kurdish-turkish. I tried to communicate, he offers me a cigarette, I accept out of respect. He looks at me again and says, “father, mother, finished” and a tear starts dropping from one eye. I didn’t hesitate an instant, I wasn’t surprised either, I stepped towards him with a hugging gesture and he gladly accepted. He started crying, a visceral cry, full of pain. I held him and held him, until he started to calm. We are all one, we come from the same source, brothers and sisters.