Yusuf is a "perfume", Emre is me, the moist eyes are mine.
You wonder what happened? Well, by now 2 weeks have passed and I don't quite know myself...
Parfumo introduced me to a person, a friend, who I will probably never forget, no matter what our future holds. That person is the lovely @Baklover. He and his friend @Musowski invited me to a perfume session. This meant a 98km drive for me, but for @Baklover I was happy to do it, after all it was going to be our first time seeing each other.
The principle was simple. Everyone brought what smelled halfway and looked like perfume and everything was tested in turn. A cube-shaped, small, transparent bottle with the thick inscription "EO" was briefly shown and immediately tucked away in a safe place. "We'll do that one at the very end". The two already knew Yusuf. He was slightly brownish, very light, nondescript...
We tested over 90 fragrances, just niche and somewhat vintage, including hard hunks like Areej Le Dore or other Ensar Ouds. But it was all just perfume. Perfumes only smell, if you're lucky, good. Yusuf is not a perfume. Yusuf lives, Yusuf becomes flesh and blood when it touches your skin, Yusuf takes you away, Yusuf awakens feelings.
After several hours of smelling and philosophizing about the different scents, after great hospitality and delicious food, it was the crushers turn.
War and Peace Part II,
Oud Zhen, "Homeros (perfume) | Ensar Oud / Oriscent", "EO N°2: Kashmir | Ensar Oud / Oriscent". My goodness, what did we do, it smelled like goats and cats. Indescribable experience. What some people understand as a perfume, caused us to shake our heads,
Then came Yusuf. Oh Yusuf, I didn't see coming what you were going to do to me that night.
@Musowski took his bottle and sprayed a powerful spray on my forearm. I let it soak in and dared to sniff it for the first time. I was confused. I couldn't place what I was smelling. It is an embarrassment of world languages that there are no words for it to help me describe what I smelled.
Of course it smells woody, resinous, green and beautiful, but that doesn't describe what I smelled.
It starts out very green, almost like vetiver with a lot of power behind it.
It continues to develop very woody and resinous, never dark, always pleasant, never pungent, always soft, embracing, warm, never extreme, always just right, never animalic, always cozy, never intrusive, always cuddly. I want to sleep in Yusuf, I want to eat with Yusuf, I want to die to Yusuf.
I think there's only oud here? Where do the flowers come from? Where do the flowers come from that are hard to smell? I'm looking, but I can't find it.
Where do the fruity notes come from? How can oud smell fruity?
I don't know where the notes come from, but they are there, Yusuf has them all. Yusuf lasts and lasts and develops indescribable nuances on my skin. Yusuf contains only oud, but is woody, green, floral, fruity, tart, fresh, Yusuf is something special and unique.
Yusuf made me realize that until now I have only smelled soup, but not perfumes.
Yusuf takes me with him, Yusuf takes me to places where I had the most amazing experiences of my childhood. To Turkey, to my home. No, not a beach, but home, to Bayir/Mugla, to Göksögüt/Isparta, to my roots.
Yusuf makes me smell odorless things, poems, songs, letters, memories.
Suddenly something happened inside me, I look at @Baklover, I look at @Musowski, but unfortunately they look at me too. Why unfortunately? Because now I was sitting there, Turk, 110kg, full beard, 22 years old, sports student - and I got tears in my eyes. I became emotional, as never before at a "perfume".
Now I drove 98km back home and kept smelling Yusuf. I listened to the most beautiful songs I knew, of course I listened to Müslüm Gürses. I was thinking, about life, about the world, about politics.
"Ne yaptımsa seni unutamadım" - No matter what I did, I could not forget you.
Why did I have to be a student, actually always short of money and yet so rich. How nice it would be to be able to buy a "perfume" like Yusuf, at the drop of a hat and without having to think if I still have 2,70€ for the food in the university canteen. Why are there rich and poor? Why can't everyone smell that? Forget other people, will I myself smell Yusuf again in my life, will I at least see him, maybe sniff the spray head? Why is my fate the way it is? Do I have to sin to have the same opportunities as others? Or am I already privileged after all, but not satisfied.
"İtirazım var değişmez yazıma, itirazım var bu dertli şansıma." - I have an objection to my fate, I have an objection to my agonizing happiness.
Yusuf awakened feelings in me that I first hid, but then let out on the way back. Yusuf broadened my horizons, Yusuf made me think.
I will probably never see Yusuf again. Maybe @Musowski will sacrifice a spray again, maybe not. I couldn't blame him.
I still have a long degree ahead of me, a clerkship, maybe some early days in the profession with little pay. Will there be a drop of Yusuf left in the world then? Or will Yusuf forever be a memory? A few hours in which I was not only allowed to hear and feel the songs of Müslüm Gürses, but also to smell them for the first time.
"Nerdeysen bir haber gönder, diğer yarım yanında kalmış." - Wherever you are, give me a sign, half of me is still with you.
Thank you @Baklover ❤️
Thank you @Musowski ❤️
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