Should I say the verse or the sentence, my grandma said half of it and me the other half. On my way to the army, she laughed at me and said, “They make the lousy man a footsoldier, baby!” I completed her sentence in the poem “Human is Short” that I wrote about her years later: “They make the excess words a poem!”

Life is completing the song “I became a soldier, a footsoldier”; what you call life is the road, “I became a passenger, a footsoldier.” The word finds its essence in the Azeri language, becomes ‘yaya’ (pedestrian). It is frequently complained of being pedestrians on the road of life, one of the ceremonies of self-pity takes place during this time. But life is like that, or is it not? Some fly, some run, some escape, some go on foot. He becomes a passenger to the songs that go, “I set out in the moonlight.”

Perhaps walking, walking step by step is best known and understood by the footsoldier. The footsoldier is like an ant, walking from here to there. Well, they bear the burden of life, they endure their suffering, I accept, but doesn’t the footsoldier enjoy it? He does. By wandering, sightseeing, having fun, lingering, slowing down, stretching, resting, listening, hearing, seeing, tasting, taking his steps in accordance with the road, going with the wind…

Cemal Süreya’s misunderstood but still beautiful lines: “Soldier give me water soldier/ -I am engaged not a soldier”. What do I mean? In other words, sometimes an apprentice can come out of poetry, and sometimes an infantry is written in poetry. Both suit poetry, poetry suits both, and it’s well noted.

The infantry is close to the ground and he is a bit like sand. Just like the green of being close to the water and the blue of standing near the sky, there is also the blue of standing on the ground, if desired. We can say that its red is on the outside, its blue is inside, its green is outside, its blue is in its heart. This is one of the things that can be adapted for the footsoldier. The feet of the footsoldier are in the ground and the head is in the blue. Walking is also blue.

Footsoldier is the land of literature, novel; the sky is a story, the sea is poetry. What about the essay? It is the ant on the ground, fish in the water and simorg in the air. It is where the text walks, swims, flies and lands. This made me think of the stages of human life. We run as children, fly when we are young, then we start walking. Long walk. I started reading more novels than I have ever read, I think I came to my footsoldier age. While writing this, I recalled my beloved donkey for some reason. (I have never seen a notice of a missing donkey but I saw a notice of a lost goat attached to a tree.)

Being a footsoldier is counted as being ready. As if someone calls ‘footsoldier’ I will stand up immediately! This means a footsoldier always listens and being a footsoldier is actually a fancy!

A footsoldier recognizes another from his walk, also from his stance, his way of sitting and standing. The footsoldier looks like a fisherman as if he was fishing in dark waters as if he was flying in the sea of the sky with blue birds and running down the forest. It also comes to me like a letter, which is one reason why I miss the infantry, it is a letter that is neither incoming nor outgoing. “Knight of the infantry” is called the one who carries it because the person we look forward to seeing is the postman, the footsoldier of the footsoldiers who unites us.

Footsoldier, another Adam, another realm rather than Adam. The world does not stand on the horns of the ox, of course, but if the world is still turning, there are footsoldiers among the remembered ones.