They do not know the villages, towns, towns, children, toy trains, safe, compassionate, warm places of the stations.
Garlar is like a refuge. Silence makes love loneliness.
The trains are drawn into their own when their passengers are loaded. He leaves you in his shady bench alone, strokes your cheek with your wind, refreshes you. For this reason, the crowd of loneliness is also removed in the arbitrary stations. There is no dry noise in bus stations. Even in the crowd there is a calmness.
The children of the cities where the rails do not anchor in the soil, do not worry far. Birds in their hearts have become accustomed to birds, they cannot afford to fly their ropes and fly behind the mountains.
The children of the cities where the trains do not breathe, do not know the weight or the patience of waiting. The clock was cut into stone kesil trains that are expected as a lover waits. Separations brew, darken, bitter taste of pain. The breaks, the sindire of the sindire.
However, the children of the cities passing by train know that life is hidden in details, and that they discover it O
Train journey, a ceremony, a feast is prepared as if prepared. There is no food next to the suitcases. And throughout life, the taste of the renewed, dry meatballs, tomato, white cheese, fresh onions and pepper is unforgettable.
The children of the cities passing by the train grow by hearing the poems, stories and memories of the Demirağlar. Because, almost all of them have at least one railroad in the family. Even though they migrate to the cities that do not pass the train, they always carry the seal of the rails in their hearts. They always want to run away by train.
In cities where railways pass through, childhood is experienced differently. Garlar is like a magic garden. It is the place where the city stretches its feet, lies on the sprinkles… He wears his holiday clothes and wears flowers on his hair. When you grow up, whenever you go to a garage, the child in you will be freed from your hand and start running in every corner… Because the station is freedom ...
The children of the cities passing the train know the value of nature. Cities, wipes the make-up at the garage, the most natural, the garages, trees are decorated with each other, copy of each other, we are disfigured, the city itself makes the personality, gives personality. Every city's port leaves a beautiful photo in our minds of that city. Trees rooted in the trunk are also fearless in the garages. They know they're not gonna get their necks in years. They know and are happy about it, they will become a family with more and more crowds. Because, the railway children crowns trees, ornaments, ornaments, flowers.
The railway children, their fathers are enchanted. Neither of the dads realizes their fathers age, nor the fathers realize that their children are growing. Mothers are both mothers and fathers. Railway fathers, sleepless, sleepless, steel arms of the rails are like guests in their home.
The railway children know that the value of the sweat is not easy. It is not so easy, win bread from steel rails. Labor, sacrifice, self-sacrifice. Therefore, they eat in the bread, black winter cold, the loneliness of the night, the heat of the summer, sleepless eyes, there is a taste of patience.
Train stations are like calm, dignified, wise people. It is the memory of cities. It tells the history of cities and reminds them. There are lines of age on your face. He carries his cities with great patience on his back. For this reason, the children of the villages, bazaars, and cities that pass the trains know that the biggest assistant of the Turkish army is Demirağlar in our Struggle for Independence. the rails. To Dumlupınar, Sakarya. It seems as if he hears the folk songs that Mehmet¬çik, who went to İnönü to die for his homeland and never returned.
Railway children know; iron is also bringing civilization, the history of 87 years will not be explained without iron, and it will not be understood ... What has been achieved with the Republic, what difficulties and iron have been buried in the chest of the earth ... What costs have been paid for independence, to make the homeland ...
For this reason, they cannot keep their tears in the line of "We knitted Demirağ homeland four times" in the "Tenth Year March".
Written By: Şükran Kaba / TCDD / BYHİM