Silent and unseen, under cover of early morning darkness, I left like a guilty  and irelessly treets. At Bayazid, I performed my ablution in tyard, entered t talent only rarely acer a lifetime of practice. You knoice of us and we pray

    icipation of one  a petition into tan’s o grant me a ch loving people.

    er Osman’s  ime e Eniss. rary and more distant, but  illumination ive elderly dervis master s of fear, aurists for so many years.

    As raveled from ter’s o ted on a ly, I on foot and likerations t accompany old fables.

    At tan ain t once  ters’ rice, determine  to torture  even alloion. e aken not to tioners’ fountain  to t small slapdasered seclusion of tan’s Private Garden, ion, torture and strangling.

    A youtoo elegant and polite to be one of tatively placed ts of paper on a able.

    Master Osman took out  began to pound. Like an eagle gliding elegantly over a tract of land, ained at a constant distance from trations. And like t eagle catc of ts prey,  intently and calmly.

    “It’s not er a time.

    “ isn’t he Commander.

    I’d assumed t master ion, scrutinizing every aspect of to hoof.

    “ter  left a single trace,” said Master Osman. “e  be able to determine ed tnut ures.”

    taking up t aside, I looked at trils: ter ; trils of tnut e’s manuscript. Just ttention turned to torturers ing outside

    rying to observe ttle quickly backward as if possessed by a jinn, seeking ser berees.

    At t moment, like an et t illuminated tan, tion of tered the room.

    Master Osman confessed to   been able to determine anytrations. Nevert refrain from draan’s attention to t paintings: te stance of t and, in ty and pride matcent of ancient books. Mean  ure, and to door to tists’  Master Osman said.

    “My Sovereign, don’t be surprised t I knoers like ter. “ beer miniaturist s origins.”

    “You mean to say?” said Our Sultan.

    “Your Excellency, Prosperous Sultan and Refuge of ture, evident rils of tnut  simply take of a painter, but a sign ant past to otures, otecyles and pero examine turies-old books t You keep under lock and key in ts, and cabinets of treasury, ify as tec ake; ttribute it to turists.”

    “You er my treasury?” said tan in amazement.

    “t is my wiser.

    t as brazen as asking to enter t tood t in as mucreasury occupied ttiest spots in tyard of te Paradise of Our Sultan’s Palace, t spots in Our Sultan’s .

    I rying to read iful face,  urists as a er’s impudence?

    Looking at t I iful attributes, t

    o e distant world.

    I t just as being taken into t of t serving Our Sultan and perurist meant serving God and dying for ty.

    Mucer, e, deat, as I passed te ed as if t even see us. terday  o affect me in t, for I kne aken furto t of Our Sultan’s secret o te Quarters of the Enderun.

    e passed to tered a fairy tale, I kept my eyes trained on to avoid coming face-to-face ures t mig me. I couldn’t even look at tan  my gaze o fall momentarily on tree, one no different from otrees, and on a tall man in a caftan of soopped before a portal, larger and more imposing t, framed in ornate stalactite patterns. At its tood treasury cans; one of to open the lock.

    Staring directly into our eyes, treasurer said: “You are truly blessed by fortune, an ed you permission to enter treasury of t no one else ures and pages of gold, and like ers, you rack tan bade me remind you t good Master Osman il to name t in turists’ midst; failing t, tter surned over to to be resolved by torture.”

    First, to ensure no key entered t permission. treasury and t, signaling roduced, tter t filled ter Osman suddenly turned an asruck by a dark radiance t seemed a remnant of ancient days.

    “My Sultan didn’t  taries o enter unnecessarily,” said treasurer. “to look after tead. For tan  Jezmi Aghin.”

    Jezmi Ag, so be at least seventy years old. han he.

    “Jezmi Agerior of treasury like ions of books and all else better than anyone.”

    ting brazier, t icks t the palace pages were carrying.

    treasurer announced t ty-year-old signet of Sultan Selim ter t sunset, tness of ttendant croreasury c caution t notsoever “mistakenly” found its o our clots or saso our undergarments upon exiting.

    e entered, passing bet eit  and y t drove deep into my nasal passages. Everys, cs and s intermingled in a ic jumble. I  I ness to a great battle.

    My eyes adjusted to t t fell over tire space, rades of tairs along tinged  clots and kilims ion of all t and cities and treasuries plundered.

    “Frigo my feelings. “Everybody is frig visit. At nigs of ts wo eacher.”

    erred. Betering of to tionless.

    I sausks, caftans, silver candlesticks and satin banners. I sarunks, Cs, long-necked lutes, armor, silk cuss, furs, red ostrics. ts, clotin every-in closets and small storage cells built into trange ligans of sultans, surbans, pilloars, ruby-ed turbans, turban plumes, curious clocks, ewers and daggers, ivory

    statues of s, nargudded tops, mots of draes, strands of large prayer beads, and s adorned urquoise. t, ly doed floating dust particles in t t streams in from t atop t t sunlig, ts appeared as if made from terial. After  covering everyt dimmed ts into an arcane sameness. And as trange and indistinct items, unable to distinguis even t profusion of objects became even more terrifying.  I t er decided able, and later still, some strange Frankis t among tans and plumes pulled out of tily tossed ually an exotic cabinet sent by te Czar.

    Jezmi Ag  into the wall.

    “ed?” wer Osman.

    “ an Selim t back from tabriz, ty  volumes brougian ambassador to Our Sultan’s grandfatian books from time of Sultan Me the Conqueror?”

    “t Sa an Selim, Denizen of Paradise, as a present ty-five years ago,” said Master Osman.

    t us to a large . Master Osman greient as  s colops pages. togetonis at trations of kly slanted eyes.

    “”Gengai Kuluy Ker Osman before closing taking up another.

    e came across an incredibly beautiful illustration depicting to convey tain, tnessing Fer of love rembling grief-stricken  Master Osman and I antly affected by taste of tears and sorroouc ed—as t masters intended—not to signify Ferrengt rato convey  at once t tire world.

    “A Biation made in tabriz eiger Osman said as her.

    ture t s and t in t bettacks of a marten on tion in an unfortunate cat cauger’s trap. to an agreement: t, pretending to be ten and turn, tiously frees t from tand ter’s sensibility, ter uffed ther.

    t picture of a mysterious ly opened one ion, urned to ened intently. I looked at ture avidly, jealous of timacy, love and friendshem.

    Putting t book doer Osman opened to a page from anoturanian armies, eternal enemies, s, greaves, bo, legendary and fully armored tle to ty yelloeppe ips of t, bedecked in an array of colors and patiently co to fig to tell myself t regardless of ion oday or a ’s a depiction of ist of absolute faitually paints and conveys is a battle ing; I o declare furt turist actually paints ience, ’s not  tome.

    In tains interration t seemed to go on forever. I t ing meant seeing t depicting it as if it er Osman recounted ration migraveled from Buko , from  to tabriz, and at last, from tabriz to Our Sultan’s palace, moving from book to book along to be rebound ings at to Istanbul.

    e saures of ening and more expertly done t: Rüstem togetem attacking Afrasiyab’s army; and Rüstem, disguised in armor, a mysterious and unidentified  of deatting eac name, claser Osman—for wime—looked upon hing in a

    lake by moonliging as ter an extended separation, and a spirited picture, all aflutter rees and floire ogetrue great master,  tention to some oddity in a corner of even t painting, pero do  on t of tor or perion of colors: As miged, ening to a cal by ing, but see t kind of sad and spiteful painter  ominous oree branc lovely boy dressed in ian rying to peel tasty oranges   later on oo, would be blinded?

    e saed Prop during e-bearded old man symbolizing Saturn; and baby Rüstem sleeping peacefully in co ted on a black rils bore no peculiarity, and ter Osman rapidly picked out t t times recognize an artist and s an illustrator’s signature ures and colopermine  susurrus of turning pages could be er Osman  “A I kept my peace, unable to understand imes  ered tion or arrangement of trees and mounted soldiers of a particular illustration in ot scenes of completely different stories, and  out tures again to jog my memory. ure in a version of Nizami’s Quintet from time of tamerlane’s son S is, from nearly ty or eigo ask me  t turists ed ture  ion o paint is to remember.”

    Opening and sting old illuminated manuscripts, Master Osman  ted ed pieces (for all miniaturists  tist  is, old pictures of trees, angels, parasols, tigers, tents, dragons and melanc ed at ime y of o us, s. ty of illustrators and of t, gaze upon to remember t Alla to us. test masters in eacion of

    painters, expending toiling until blind, strove  effort and inspiration to attain and record t Allao see. tunately, even test masters, just like tired old men or great miniaturists gone blind from to recollect random parts of t magnificent vision. terious  a ly te never e t separated them.

    Long after of treasury  became evident t t contained none of t books t Sa to Our Sultan’s grandfater Osman revisited t times, a bird’s o a tree, ts or turies by passing from master to disciple and being saugions. ail from er, turist believes it to be a perfect form, and is as convinced of its immutability as  as  tail indelibly painted in ting does not mean ter artist ail. toms of tinguis of s and taste for color of ter beside an  times, prevent ing t detail, and he way a woman laughs—”

    “Or trils of a horse.”

    “—or trils of a one-faced Master Osman, “not t’s been ingrained in t according to tom of tly finds  like tand me?”

    From a page in Nizami’s e a feing Sed on er Osman read aloud an inscription engraved on tone plates above tED ALLAORIOUS SON OF tAMERLANE KAN, OUR JUSt KECt Y AND DOMAINS SO ENtED (tmost stone read) AND EALtmost stone read).

    Later, I asked, “ rations  rils in tched upon his memory?”

    “e must locate t Sa as a gift,” said Master Osman. “e must revisit ting of miniatures. e  to examine.”

    It crossed my mind t, just perer Osman’s main goal  to find  to scrutinize as mucacular pictures t  quietly for years in treasury safe from prying eyes. I greient to find t e me ed me at t I’d been loato believe t t master mig to stay in treasury as long as possible.

    t in opening ots, ots so examine tures t fed up ures, c Sle er’s side— even a glance at trils of try to  tfully and aruck among t rooms of treasury. At times, prompted by an abrupt cry and ure by Master Osman, I’d imagine t a neerpiece  last a o  ture ter remble as  curled up on an Us dating from time of Sultan Meo encounter an illustration, ting, say, Satan slyly boarding Noah’s ark.

    e cans and kime of tamerlane to Sultan Süleyman t—edly ed gazelles, lions and rabbits. e sa tood upon scraps of ied to te t c of t  of a myt volume, o t page,  S, in ration t brougo life ted clock made from bobbins and metal balls, birds and Arabic statuettes seated on t, ime.

    I don’t kno examining book after book and illustration after illustration in t ime revealed in tures and stories reasury. It seemed t ted pages, created over turies by ture of eyesigless sans, o life, as s t seemed to besiege us: ts, scimitars, daggers udded y and delicate lutes, and tless illustrations.

    “I noand t by furtively and gradually re-creating tures for ists ed transformation of to another.”

    I’ll be first to admit t I didn’t completely understand  master meant. But the close

    attention my master o tures made over t tabriz to Bago Istanbul, ion of some rils. e’d participated in a kind of melanco tion, talent and patience of all ters ed in the years.

    For treasury  time of ter Osman explained to me t soever to leave, and t furtil morning examining pictures by t of oil lamps and candles could e properly Our Sultan’s c response, as I informed o remain he dwarf.

    er conveyed our ing creasurer, immediately regretted my decision. I longed for Sless as I ten doters of the windows.

    treasury portal, I o tside by trees in tyard of t of fog—and by tures of to eac to disturb tan; but I remained .

    E tO DERVIS our picture  comprising an album est corner of treasury filled ries over ors of an,  probably spread to turists’ division by t no our oory in our oake offense.

    One en years y since tisan derviss of devilry, but see for yourselves, ell you ian style! As tration indicates, one day an’s domains from one city to t.

    e , our  and t around our s and ing o eat wever food God h.

    At t moment, standing before a caravansary beside a fountain, my dear friend, nay, my beloved, nay, my broto t: “You first please, no you first,” o eaco o take up t from traveler, a strange man, stopped us, gave us eacian coin and began to draure.

    uated us riger of tent of tan, and ing us in our ate   to appear like a pair of truly impoverises of our eyes facing t’s exactly o do. In tuation, it’s ture of a derviso beside; since our  t ter saw.

    Meanwside ing of a hoja Effendi.

    Pray, let us not give tion of ted “ last  misunderstanding: ted “soever to do  ard   op a tree. terpret everytively  if arget of reproac out toryteller’s tongue and lo his head.

    One y years ago, ted ory eaming h rage.

    “ing prayers, not ting ture of disgrace  country? Is it to disgrace us?”

    “Not at all, it’s simply because illustrations of your bad side bring in more money,” said ter’s reasoning.

    “If it broug t?” trying to start an argument, but as you can see from ture, tian ist, and ’d bring raty prattle.

    us, and to tfolio on the back of his horse’s saddle, and

    returned to y. Soon afterorious armies of ttomans conquered and plundered t city on to Istanbul and treasury. From t book to anot ting, invigorating elixir. Noreatise on Painting, Deat mentioned, ten out and collected in a tome: Kalenderi dervis belong to any of tegories into ists; they are superfluous.

    Additionally, ramp about as a pair and al o eat  kno to true concern—o bugger t amusing and laug-take-It-rong  because ty young boys, apprentices and miniaturists, are all felloravelers on th.”

    t is ture,  us so sly and tention to detail t ook a liking to ed by , ting t t  fine, but  mind. Noe content, indeed. According to to some unbelievers  decayed corpses and according to you, telligent society of miniaturists gature, and because ure, and er our run-in ed er o Sivas in ts, t villages, begging all t  by suc  before dying I  of a painting t entered er thousands of years.

    It IS I, MAStER OSMANtell a story in Buk dates back to time of Abdulla object to more tist’s brusributing to tration, o painters copying from one anot impossible to determine s brazenly copying from one anoto blame for an error. More importantly, after a time, instead of puso seek out God’s memories urists  ist beside t masters, one from

    S, er of ; ed talents to look at eaced te ends of ly ty-seven years and four montening to a legend, t masters eacened to Abdulla to-be-seen o ty about eacings. After ts long tortoiselike course, tists ran to eaco see tings. Later still, sitting upon eit tures t turists  disappointment because trations t nearly as spectacular as ticipated from tories t instead appeared, mucures t years, rat masters didn’t t t o descend upon t after botely blind, rattributed to iful tures.

    In t in treasury room, as I turned pages ures in books t I’d dreamed of for forty years, I knes in tiless story from Buk gave me suco knoo ter, t I imes I  one of pages I urning s legend.

    For instance, eig and all of Ked ; to celebrate turn,  prepared, an illuminated version of a book entitled tars, ory as nessed by Emir o legend, one illustration in ting on ted tory. tan of Dels of t tion. I ely certain t tory I conjured an’s tent, and I to see this miraculous page.

    In an illustration by S masters of t  to it to er ed long and patiently, to ed  to tan. As o me times, t a poor subject aptly feels to ked monarc a ice feels toward er, was rendered h such delicacy and deep compassion,

    from tension of t’s fingers o y to summon to look at t er joy in to be apprentice to a great master, and t sucy er to a young, pretty and intelligent apprentice—and I grieved for truth.

    I turned t  attention upon trees and clouds, y to ex edly removed volume after volume from cs and placed te corners of an iron c stuffed omes, common books and disorderly albums, traordinary volumes—one bound in tyle  and finisained pages so resembling eac at first I t trying to determine o tion,  t Master Sabriz esall er o prevent  volume, t master artist took refuge esed a superior copy from memory. to see t tures in t volume ing, reminded me t ty of life but also deadens its vigor.

    Since I myself am a genuine great master, so ackno is t I ed noe and terrifying darkness of ttered treasury, like a condemned man  time before o see all trations and hem.”

    As I turned table ly came across legends and matters of blindness. In tryside outing falling in love er seeing ure on tree, Sinctly all tree one by one so tire sky. In anso a fool  true subject of tration  tree, S true subject  tiful young maiden eit ist, and to proudly prove  tempted to paint tree s leaves on a grain of rice. If ture iful feet of Stendants  misled me, I  tree made by ter on paper—not tree made on a grain of rice, ed task. On anotem blinding Alexander ed in tists  blindness, t desire of turist, appeared to the

    prologue to a joyous celebration.

    My eyes ures and volumes, no less ement of one o be for years treasury room suffused  I’d never seen before—caused by t  of t in admiration,  page before me. Unable to restrain myself, I’d begin to explain:“to t master Mirza Baba Imami from tabriz, t of o t for t, turban, and look, it’s ty boy’s caftan. Allaly revealed t s flo o find ty of red t is only visible to tures of test of masters, God did, s secret to t of insects living beneatones,” I said and added, “to  to us.”

    “Look at ter, once again unable to refrain from serpiece—tion of g trees of springtime blooming in an array of color, t of ion of t garden as ted poetry; it y and icy treasury could also smell tely scented skin of tice ist , tances and t of ttering about ty, also made tfi of Bukemper and belligerence caused o leave eacrations   tood noting, and y for long. t master  from one so anoty to city, quarreling all to find a ruler s, until ial cain aintops. Claiming t ”t be small but ing,“  ty-five years of  tial lord oday, a subject of conjecture and a source of humor.”

    “Do you see to t, and time to my side, candlesticks aloft. “From time of tamerlane’s grandco t, ten os ures, dedications, orical information and names of sultans—ogetop of eaced in , an Veli, son of Muzaffer of , in t-üd Dünya, the wife of

    Muorious broter still,  to tesan o o tans in time, removing or adding one or tures; beginning  oiful o trations and appended to ter passed to Sam Mirza , e dedication, for urn broug to tabriz and  prepared as a gift  anotion. an Selim ted S Cabriz, treasury in Istanbul, after traveling across deserts, mountains and rivers along orious sultan’s soldiers.

    er’s interest and excitement did Black and turned trators from ies large and small, eacinctive temperament, eacing under tronage of a different cruel sain, eacalent and succumbing to blindness. I felt tings icesed il our curned brigones upon our sion—tive book t displayed mets of torture. I  ttoman treasury: Instead of seeing torture as a necessary practice administered before to ensure Allaice in travelers s of our cruelty and evil-edness by urists abase tures in exc turist ures of bastinados, beatings, crucifixions, , ranglings, tting of ts, feedings to er, te flayings, tting off of noses and true artists like us icesinados, random pummelings and fists so t table master er—not to mention icks and rulers so t to be reborn as tion—only ing bastinados and tortures, only s y of coloring a ce.

    our rations  understand anyto take a closer look, yet lacking tience, t feel t, tion I noures in treasury—but truly knourned trusty mot eye passed over tures like an old stork traversing ttle surprised by t still astoniso see neo kno  from yle” first took ser had worked for whom, and how, for example,

    t Persia from  under Ced “A an agony lurked deeper  I can scarcely stled, tormented, pretty, moon-faced, gazelle-eyed, sapling-ters—battered by masters— remained full of excitement and ion t developed beters and ting, before succumbing to anonymity and blindness after long years of toil.

    It  t I entered te feelings, ty of ten over years of rendering ions for Our Sultan. In an album of collected pictures I saed Persian boy ly as I  moment, and it reminded me of y belongs to Allaer from Isfaears in my eyes, I beices nourising. A tiny-footed, transparent-skinned,  and die, y of a maiden gazed o t adorable arm to demonstrate trengttac to her.

    Oddly, my  began to quicken and pound. As y years ago in my early apprentices some rat illustrations of ed maidens drayle of tabriz, beads of s accumulated on my foreing I felt and t I experienced aken my first steps toer status, I saal-skinned yout in as an apprentice candidate. For a moment, I rong feeling t painting  about melanc but about t and t it alent of ter artist t first transformed to a love of God and to a love of t; so strong  it caused me to relive atic delig over til my back ion to courting blindness tration and all ting I’d suffered and made otared long and silently at tration . Mucer I ill staring. A teardrop slid from my eye over my co my beard.

    iced t one of ticks sloing treasury ly set beside me. t tcile envy. I turned tnut and bay  could’ve been ters of —acular turned tly seated governmental official greeted me from a seventy-year-old picture; I couldn’t determine , yet the

    painting, ted man’s beard painted in various  beat quickly as I recognized tion of t  kneo my face.

    I ures dra Master Biimes before; per looked at t in a group of former masters years ago, per be certain  Bi been as taken as I was now.

    treasury co brigifully dra arm branded  noy before I  blind.  kno I could suition of mine o me  t somet of my mouth.

    “Be’s Bihzad.”

    My  of its oo  -skinned, beautiful apprentice boys, eace and broad, and I . ake an apprentice co my palm and, before telling o ion into , frig’s  Black. Reflected in . “e miniaturists are bret noo an end.”

    “how do you mean?”

    I said, “Everyto an end” like a great master erpieces in yle of ts,  ts oyle, a great master tle, t neear apart bound volumes leaving ttle and destroy ails t  o explain to Black differently.

    “tration is of t Poet Abdullaifi,” I said. “ifi  t ayed  and toadied up to Ser took . In response, S all to skirts of ty to see ifi, not from Biifi’s face, but from ting beneatration, don’t we?”

    Black looked at me, indicating “yes” ty eyes. “ t in the

    painting,” I said, “ it could be a face like any otifi ion in its entirety: tion, in ifi’s pose, in tunning er Bi at once indicates ture is of a poet. Meaning precedes form in t. As o paint in imitation of tian masters, as in t Our Sultan e, tian methods…”

    “My Enis in eternal peace, was murdered,” Black said rudely.

    I caressed Black’s ed fully stroking tiny ice rate masterpieces. Quietly and reverently  Bierpiece for a time. Later, Black hdrew his hand from mine.

    “e passed quickly over tnut  examining their noses,” he said.

    “to turned back to t see for raordinary about trils of the horses.

    “h peculiar noses?” Black asked like a child.

    But, in t, toered silk and dre fort asleep on a red Us,  pilloome again after so many years, I quickly understood t t begun for me.

    ty-five years ago ing and carrying it. oucy-five years ago, upon tan Süleyman t, Saed to be finally rid of tan imes, t along -laden camels  to Süleyman’s successor, Sultan Selim, acular Koran and t beautiful of treasury. First, a Persian ambassadorial delegation trong took tome to Edirne  ter ing; after it arrived anbul along s carried on camels and mules, or Black Memi and ers  to see t reasury. Just like tanbulites er Black Memi t t Master Bi  for tabriz in  contributed to this book because he’d gone blind.

    For Ottoman miniaturists like us rations, looking tained 250 large illustrations, e palace s slept. e stared at t pious reverence as if be ing moment. And for ty-five years reasury.

    I silently opened turned t rustle, I was overcome by melanchan awe.

    1. Mindful of tories suggesting t all ter miniaturists of Istanbul olen images from t give my full attention to tures.

    2. t I mig devote myself o terpieces t appeared in one of every five or six pictures ( grace did tas, ime of peace, eac, Greek and various other languages!).

    3. ted me from surrendering myself to w I saw.

    Naturally, I ed to find myself observing more , despite t luck of  me to  curtain of darkness descended over my eyes—to miniaturists. By time t of daomb, I’d gazed upon eacures in tive book. Since I looked o categorize, as if I ed only in reasoning:1. No resembled c among t Rüstem encountered  among Feridun Sraordinary igris after tan o do so; not among tcur’s treac erritory, gave t country, Persia, and far ao tur; not among t included Kians, Berbers and Arabs, all equipped ructible s t killed Sually as a result of t for rebelling against God’s fate—by trampling orative ers eased ion; and not among t urists. Yet, till more tire day ao examine treasury.

    2. t ent topic of gossip among master illuminators for t ty-five years: itan, an illustrator entered treasury, found tacular book, opened it and by candleligo ce rees, clouds, floer use in ist created an amazing and exceptional piece, jealousy prompted suc to belittle ture as not Persian abriz. Back tabriz  Ottoman territory. ed at me, I felt justifiably angry, yet secretly proud; but  ot. No in some strange urists y-five years ago ingrained its images into our memories, and since transformed, altered and painted to tan. My spirits  by tans ake suc of treasuries and so us, but by ting.  be t masters of  or ters of tabriz, Persian artists raordinary illustrations, more masterpieces, ttomans.

    Like a lig occurred to me e it’d be if ts and I  to torture; using t of my penknife I ruture t lay open before me. It  of t a c brougan, before defeating ter at cilessly gouged out ttled mercilessly, of t armor and of severed er doing to to my sash.

    My rembled, but I didn’t feel so bad. Did I noics felt after committing trange act ered frequently during my fifty-year tenure as a painter? I ed noto floo the eyes I had blinded.

    3. to torment and consolation aing me at t of t book,  masterful artists for ten years, ouc Bi rendering of o be found. t confirmed t Bi years of —ty out of favor—to tabriz. So, I once again decided  after tained tion of ters by  master blinded o avoid tainting ing her workshop or shah.

    Just t before me.

    “No, t it,” I said  being contrary. “the iron horses of

    Alexander’s iron cavalry  aflame like lamps, before being set against ting from trils.”

    e stared at tings.

    “Jezmi Ager depicted in tan Selim ts t Saed t y-five years ago…”

    ly located tan Selim and placed it in front of me. Paired ly colored page t sing ts to Sultan Selim, my eyes found, among ts  ten because it urquoise-and-moted talent of , Master of Master Illuminators Bi of blinding ed self.

    I asked tan Selim. I folloreasury, meandering bet, cabinets and beneatairiced  tusks and tiger skins. In one of trange redness of clot, beside t one, and ruby-studded daggers, I sas t Sa: silk carpets from Isfa and an object t immediately caugtention—a pen case decorated te obviously from time of tamerlane. I opened t came tle scent of burned paper and roseer; ed turquoise-and moto fasten plumes to turbans. I took up turned to my spot like a specter.

    Alone again, I placed t Master Bio blind  it. It  t made me s seeing an object aken into his miraculous hands.

    aerrifying needle ed to Sultan Selim? as it because tudent of Biron of artists in ancing poets and artists from irely to faito relinquise book,  of masters en years?  t t artist ime, to make tatement t , terpiece by t poignant regret, afraid t ted a sacrilege trating, as h

    many rulers in their old age.

    I ories told by spiteful illuminators o enter Sy’s legendary or, declared, “I refuse to paint in any otice blind  iron. Among turists t tan Selim t back to Istanbul after t of Sure of tabriz and ter  in ttoman style—not as t of an illness o set an example for to tell my illuminators in ts of frustration how Bihzad had blinded himself.

    as ter miniaturist made use of t-of-t tle, save tire ers?

    tain on tremely s of tly tapered plume needle, yet my  determine . Loion of love c time. I tried to imagine . I’d  one doesn’t go blind immediately; ty darkness descends sloimes after days, sometimes after monturally.

    I’d caug of it  room; I stood and looked, yes, t ed s lengt. I sat do my onessed my  for sixty years.

    “er Bi?” I asked myself once more.

    Never once taking my eyes off ticed movements of a  ation, as if making a  trico be embelliso t eye. My innards sank, not because I felt  because I sao ter t.

    In t o t ernal beauty and ernal life to tself.

    Smiling, I did to my other eye.

    For a long ared at t everything.

    As I’d surmised, t darken, but seemed to bleed ever so gently into one anotill more or less see.

    t of treasury. In tomed ceremony, treasurer and s, lamps and brazier, brougo t inue searcrils an’s books.  could be more exquisite t t beautiful pictures o recollect God’s vision of the world?