Last Saturday, we were all watching a programme on the the Turkish Fox channel entitled 'Babami Ariyorum' ['I am searching for my father'].
It's a reality show whose premise is about a young lady of about 21 years of age who is about to be reunited with the father who deserted her and her mother when she was only a few months old.
But wait a minute.
It's not that simple and straightforward, you know, otherwise where would the fun be ?
She is actually facing eight men, count'em : eight, seven of whom are actors who are only pretending to be her father. If any one of these seven manages to fool the lady into thinking they are her real father, they win 20,000YTL.
Obviously, each of the seven has been briefed by the girl's mother who is in on the game. And so each of the seven get their turn at spinning some believable stories for the girl's consumption.
All of the talking that ensues is certainly of great sociological worth uncovering premises of the Turkish mind and Turkish society in the areas of relationships and ethics.
At one point, the moderator of the programme turns to the girl and asks her if she hates her father for deserting her.
Her answer which brings us to the title of this post is :"How could I hate him ? It was fated that he should desert us."
Her fatalism, which came across as quite genuine and sincere, has protected her, has it not, from the great evils of bitterness and unforgiveness?
It seems that fatalism can address, in practical and even ethical ways, the questions of what to do in the face of the hard realities of life.
Maybe as I enter something like mid-life ,fatalism can be a comfort when considering what is or what might have been as I don't believe each individual can be held entirely responsible for all the outcomes of his life.
How happy shiny people can damage your business
1 month ago