Handan Sultan
It is the summer of 1604. High noon. The sun is overhead and beating down on the royal city. There is no movement and no shadows. Even the leaves of the tall elm trees of the palace garden are perfectly still.
All of Istanbul slumbers in suspended animation in the scorching heat. The Imperial caïque with its five double masts has sailed from Üsküdar and is approaching the palace docks at Sarayburnu. Aboard that caïque is Aziz Mahmud Hüdâyî, the most respected mystic and philosopher of his age, and a particular favourite of young and studious Sultan Ahmed. The Sultan has summoned him to the palace to perform an ablution for the sake of the Empire. A golden water sprinkler and a silver washbowl have been prepared.
The Sultan, respectful of his wise guest, reaches for the sprinkler and pours water on the aged man’s hands. The still youthful Handan Sultana, the Sultan’s mother, dressed in a full-length midnight-blue dress stands behind a screen that is embroidered with jade and turquoise. The Circassian beauty with the almond shaped eyes and the milky complexion bears only one ornament, a royal crest delicately inlaid with priceless diamonds. She hands the ceremonial towel to Aziz Mahmud Hüdâyî, saying: “My greatest desire is to witness one of your miracles, oh great master.” He smiles at Handan and looks shyly into her eyes.
He speaks with humility: “Your majesty, you honour me far beyond my worth! How could I possibly improve on this moment? The Sultan of all the Ottomans pours water on my hands and the Valide Sultana prepares my towel. This is a miracle beyond my wildest dreams!” Handan Sultana smiles bashfully, exchanging tender looks with her son the Sultan.
Aziz Mahmud Hüdâyî rests in peace on a lovely hill in Üsküdar contemplating the ever regenerating waters of the Bosphorus from the great beyond. All of mankind is enlightened by the eternal embrace of his limitless compassion.
