FIRST MY FATHER, THEN ÇİNÇİN DIED!
I breathed into the lost and gone lives. I resurrected them with my pen. I wrote the story of the owners of the pain. Maybe I made them suffer by making them read it sometimes, but it was necessary. Although Çinçin seems difficult from the outside, thousands of people came together If life is a gift given to people, then that is the most beautiful and right place to be to receive this gift, I wanted to show this. I wanted to express their passion for each other like a nuclear family. I wanted everyone to embrace our pain. At least to show that we don't have an easy life and at least to tell that our life isn't that bad... I made them cry, I made them sad, I made them happy, I made them long. I kneaded the emotions in my own way. And in this Çinçin tale PREFACE Machine Translated by Google Ahmet Suat Duzgun I produced my dough. I made a big loaf of bread from it. I turned the stove on I prepared it, made the dough, baked the bread. My expectation from you is; not to leave your pains, sorrows, sadnesses, joys unattended. I wish you a pleasant reading, hoping that you will take a bite of the bread I made