There is something precious for each person. For some money, for some cars, for some houses, for some family, for some friends, and some love. Whatever comes to mind. For me, shoes are precious. You haven't heard wrong. Shoes. But as far as I can remember, I have never seen a shoe that I liked. I never find what I want. Even when I see it, the good does not come to me. A calamity is coming upon me.

People used to be poor, and shoes were very rare and expensive. Whatever you saw, whatever you got, you would put on your feet. It also didn’t matter what your parents gave you, big or small. If it was big, they would say, "Don't worry, son, it can be used one more year. Even if it was small, they would say, "Keep it until we buy you a new one." We had no right to complain, but the question in my mind was “When?” until the seller came to the village or until the lambs were sold, or ... when! when? I didn't know. No one knew.

We didn’t have a chance to go to town to buy one. We went to town twice a year. Once in the fall, once in the spring. Otherwise, there was no way out of our village. With no complaints, we waited for shoes.

I had a pair of black shoes. It was elastic. We used to say "Armenian." It was a very good shoe. It was so firm; that you couldn’t even cut it with a knife. To cut it, you must have a dagger from the Emir of Botan. Dagger of Salih Beg. It wasn’t a comfortable shoe, but we could wear it. We wore it to do all the work in the village. But it had a big problem. It smelled it quickly; an unpleasant smell. A dirty smell. The smell caused tumors in people's heads. In the village (Bafe), if you took off your shoes, people in the city would say what is this smell? As you passed the cemetery, as Shafiq Tamburvan said, "The dead rose from their graves." When they got up, they cursed us. But let’s not forget, they’ve had these shoes on their feet before.

Then, as our elders told us, "The state of the world was good." New models came around. A little money came into our parents’ pockets. Now we could buy our favorite shoes. For us, (especially for me), going to the city and buying a new pair of shoes was the biggest dream. Like a greedy man, I bought a pair of long-toed shoes. No one had ever seen anything like it in the country. When I stepped on the ground, it would sound. Because of the sound, people looked around and said, "Who is that coming?" I had a teacher who said, "May your new shoes be blessed". My shoes were seen more, and they did not last for ten days.

Many shoes were made after that. They were all prettier and better than each other. But there was one I will never forget. One of them was white. It had two black lines on it. I called it gray. You could tell that a beautiful woman, with a face like a moon, a stylish woman, with hair like coral, had made these shoes with her own feelings and love. When I opened my eyes, I shouted like Archimedes, said, "Eureka, Eureka," and went into the shop. The shopkeeper said, "Are you crazy? What are you saying?" “I saw it, I saw it,” I said, finding the shoe I was looking for. That was the shoe, but my money was not enough to buy that shoe. It was very expensive, and I was a student. But I bought them in installments.

I wouldn't bring them out. I slept with them the first night. Their place was always over my head. When I went to a party, I wouldn't leave them outside. Outside was not a good place for them. They deserved to be with me and stay with me. Because it was white, it got dirty quickly. One day, I fell into the dust again, lost my mind and was sad. I said it would be outside today. I hadn't closed the door yet, and they were stolen. I shouted after him. I searched for him: "Didn't you see my shoes? Who stole mine?" I followed people, looking at their feet to see if they were mine. I hadn’t paid the installment yet when they stole it from me.

I got back from Friday prayers today. They stole my shoes again, but I don't care about these shoes. I’m still waiting for my gray shoes…