They said, “Good news, Deniz! You have a brother!” My brother, whom I have been eagerly anticipating,had arrived. The first time I saw him, it was through the garden gate. He was in my mother’s arms,looking at me with his navy blue eyes wide open. I said, “Can I hold him?” “Of course”, my mother said.I was overjoyed with pride and delight. I was telling everyone, “He is my brother. His name is Barış.”We grew up together. The seven-year age difference wasn’t a huge gap.He saw my father the first time at the prison. I remember him saying, “Turns out papa is a big man”.Barış was a quiet kid. I was the one who lead him astray. We grew closer as years went by. He wasalready my confidant at 17. I would pretend he was a director and I was the actress. I would constantlybabble describing my costumes and not let him film a single frame. He has been in solidarity with mestarting at a very early age. We still keep it solid today.Our siblings-talk and inside jokes can sometimes become annoying to others which in return make uslaugh more. Most people don’t believe that we are siblings. Once, during a soirée at Ülkü Tamer’s house,Fazıl Hüsnü Dağlarca kept asking us “Are you really siblings?” Fortunately, our parents were there,too! He was finally convinced, but he said, “You two just break away for a moment”. Apparently, he waspeeved by our abrupt giggling. Later on, this happened to us frequently: “Are you really siblings?”It would be apt to say that our relationship never changed. Whether it is a poem or a screenplay, asentence, a word or a situation in everything he writes reminds me of our childhood, of us.What can I say? I am so happy that he is my sweet, dear brother. -Deniz Türkali