Dr. Sedat APAYDIN

(Translated from Anilarla Mehmed Zahid Kotku (RhA) Hazretleri, Dr. Metin Erkaya, Istanbul, Seha:1996, pp. 179-87, http://meckitap.8m.com/anmzk/ruya.html)

Bismillâhir rahmânir rahîm.
Alhamdu lillâhi rabbil àlemîn...
Was salâtu was selâmu alâ rasûlinâ muhammedin wa âlihî wa sahbihî ajmaîn...

I met Mehmed Zahid Kotku Khawaja Effendi in February 1953. It was during my second year in medical school in Istanbul.

I had attended a boarding school in Bursa. Despite my years in Bursa and my visits to many mosques there, I had never visited Uftade Mosque.

In the last years of high school, I had some dreams. A mysterious person would appear to me. We would go to a gathering place and meet in a mosque, but before we had a chance to talk, I would wake up. When I started at the University, I continued having dreams with that mysterious man. I never had any chance to talk to him. These dreams lasted close to three years.

In Istanbul, I used to live in a dormitory called Kadirga Yurdu. There was a group of friends--eight to ten students--who were regular in the schedule of daily prayers. We would do the prayers as a congregation in the dormitory. I noticed that they would disappear when it was time to offer the Fajr and Isha prayers. I would miss the congregation. I questioned them several times where they were going, but they would not let me know.

I mentioned this to Shakir Ikiz, who was an engineering student from Isparta. He was surprised that I did not know where these friends visited. He said, "I will take you there tomorrow."

He took me to Ummugulsum Mosque. It was a Friday evening. We finished the Isha prayer in congregation. After the prayer, the imam turned to the congregation. What a surprise! The mysterious person of my dreams was sitting right there! Why didn't I see him before? Something strange happened to me. I could not look at his face.

Mehmed Zahid Kotku Khawaja Effendi, the imam of the Ummugulsum Mosque, was sitting in front of the congregation, and I was in the middle of the mosque. When I looked at him, with his eyebrows, he signaled me to stay. Everybody left. I remained sitting where I was. I thought he was going to call me to him. He got up and came to me. He put his knees against mine. He said, "You had us waiting for so long."

I did not understand why I had kept him waiting. I said, "I could come here only now."

He said, "I am going to give you a daily duty." He initiated me into the tariqa and described my duties. He also added:

"1. Try to come to this mosque for Fajr and Isha prayers. You should not neglect coming here for the other prayers on Saturdays and Sundays.

"2. Stay away from the opposite sex. You should have nothing to do with the female students other than the school work."

That is how I got to know Khawaja Effendi. We observed the recommendations and tried to benefit from his guidance by attending the mosque often.

At that time we had many friends who were attending the Technical University. They came to important positions in the government offices.

After I graduated from the medical school, I was asked to write to Khawaja Effendi at least once a month. I did that. After medical school, I started military service in Bitlis. Then I worked as the state physician in Urfa. Next I moved to Inegöl, Bursa. Afterwards, I started my specialization at the State Hospital in Balikesir.

When I was in Balikesir, Nejati Efendi, Rifat Bey and Sabri Bey came to Balikesir on a Sunday. They informed me: "Khawaja Effendi is in Balikesir. He is waiting for you at the Pasha Mosque."

I was on duty in the hospital. I could not leave the hospital because there was no other doctor in the hospital. I was thinking of calling the chief of staff and asking for permission to go and visit Khawaja Effendi. Then a car stopped in front of the hospital. One of the surgeons got out of the car. He never stopped by the hospital on a Sunday. I asked, "Anything wrong?"

He said, "I had a patient yesterday. He got worse. I have to be with him for a few hours."

"Can I leave for fifteen minutes?" I asked.

"Sure. Stay outside for three hours if you want."

With my friends, I went to Khawaja Efendi and kissed his hand. He asked, "How is the specialization going?" I responded: "Effendi, I will finish the first half here in a month. Then I have to move to Ankara, Izmir or Istanbul for the rest of it."

"If you come to Istanbul, you have a place, a house there." I had no thoughts of buying a house or an apartment. I thought Khawaja Effendi had some place for me to rent. I thanked him.

Two weeks before I completed my studies in Balikesir, I visited him in Istanbul. I reminded him of what he said. He asked me to find Osman. I did not know who Osman was. It turned out that he was Osman Çatakli. He had gone to Unye to visit his father.

We could not find Osman Çatakli, so we started to look for a place to rent. I could not go and tell Khawaja Effendi that we could not find him. We rented a house belonging to one of our friends. The day we rented the house, Osman Çatakli found us. He took me to his house. He said, "Your house is still under construction. When it is complete, it will be yours." Later that house was completed and we moved in. We realized that Khawaja Effendi had arranged for us to have our own house.

I completed the second part of my specialization at the Sisli Children's Hospital. A friend of ours took me to Khawaja Effendi: "Effendi, he completed his specialization. Let us find a job for him." He responded, "He can find a job. He does not need us."

Three days later, there was an opening for a doctor at Turkish Airlines. I asked Khawaja Effendi if I should apply for it. His response was affirmative. I applied for the position. Yet they found out that I was a religious person. They told me that they would not hire a person like me. They wanted somebody with modern thoughts and an "open mind."

Ten days passed. Khawaja Effendi came to us for dinner. There was only one telephone for the building by the doorman's quarters. The telephone rang. Khawaja Effendi turned to me, "It is for you. Go and take care of your business."

There were twenty-two apartments in the building. The telephone could be for anybody in the building. The call was for me and it was related to my job application. They asked me to complete the paperwork.

Among the nine applicants, they chose me for the job. I worked for 24 years for Turkish Airlines. Whenever I wanted to leave the job due to some conflict with the supervisors, he would oppose me: "Do not quit your job. Let them fire you!"

A year after I started working for the airline company, we were attending a discourse in a friend’s apartment. The topic was performing the Pilgrimage. Many people asked whether they could perform it. Khawaja Effendi replied to each and every one of saying "Yes, you can" or "No, you cannot." I was quietly observing. I had no intentions for the pilgrimage because I could not afford it. He turned to me, "Doctor, you get ready, too." I said, "I do not think my condition would allow me to go."

Khawaja Effendi repeated, "Doctor, you get ready, too!" I responded, "Yes, Sir. I shall do that."

The next morning at work I was informed: "Turkish Airlines is sending you for pilgrimage along with the Red Crescent team. Go prepare your paperwork and get ready."

Something incredible happened when we were doing the Pilgrimage. With four strong paramedics, I went to do the [traditional Hajj ritual for] stoning of the devil. It was extremely crowded. A large Sudanese group approached from the back and pushed me and one of the paramedics down. The paramedic got up, but I could not. The group stepped on me so bad that the flesh on my arm split, and the bone was exposed. Fortunately there was no blood or wetness. I got up with difficulty. I was glad that it did not bleed because I had to complete the stoning.

After the incident, we went to Khawaja Effendi. He looked at my arm and asked, "What happened?" I told him how it happened. He recited some prayers and closed the wound with his hands. The wound got closed. I could not believe what I witnessed. Repeatedly I checked the wound. The flesh would not split. Still there was no blood. He asked me if I had completed the stoning. I said I did.

In the following days, the wound got covered with a red layer. There was some oozing from the sides and from the lower part. In a week after I returned from the pilgrimage, the whole wound disappeared without leaving any trace. My friends there, including Nejati Effendi, witnessed this extraordinary phenomenon.

Khawaja Effendi would call for me when he was sick because we used to live close. I would take care of them when he or his wife, our respected mother, got sick. During one of the check-ups, I noticed a lump on his stomach. At that time, Mazhar Bey was the chief-of-staff at Vaqif Guraba Hospital. He did x-ray analysis and found out that some form of cancer had started at the antrum of the stomach.

Khawaja Effendi was told, "This will not be cured without an operation."

"If that is so, do it. Perhaps we need it later on to be considered as a martyr."

In March 1980, two thirds of his stomach was removed. After the operation he felt relieved. He felt so good that he even fasted during Ramadan. Then he left for the Pilgrimage.

He intended to stay in the Hijaz for a long time, yet the illness resumed. He fell extremely weak, so much so that he appeared to be only skin and bones. He returned to Istanbul.

Although I was at the airport, I could not meet him when he arrived due to an emergency that beckoned. I visited him around Maghrib time. He was sitting on the floor while leaning against a sofa. When I entered the room, he said:

"Doctor, Doctor! We have no business left for the doctors."

Hearing these words, I could not say anything, nor did I kiss his hand. Right after me Osman Çatakli entered the room. Khawaja Effendi repeated his words as though he wanted Osman Bey to hear his words:

"Doctor, Doctor! We have no business left for the doctors."

With these words he was telling us his physical condition. He lived one more week afterwards.

In the morning of November 13, 1980, I was at the Biçakçi Ali Effendi Mosque. My friends were at Iskenderpasha. When I came to Iskenderpasha, Dr. Alâaddin Bey, Dr. Mehmed Bey and others were sitting in the large room. I inquired about Khawaja Effendi. His health had gotten worse. They hooked up an IV, yet it did not look good.

Meanwhile, his daughter asked him how he felt. He told her:

"Do not worry about me, my daughter. Soon I will have no pain! You will relax, too." Hearing these words, the family members felt better, thinking that he would recover from the illness. In fact, he was informing them that he would die soon.

In the large room outside, I told my friends: "We have to enter his room and ask him for forgiveness and his blessings. Based on his condition last night, I don't believe he has more than twenty-four hours. Let's go in."

Of course, some of us were hesitant, thinking it would be improper to enter his room or it would be disturbing. I encouraged them and we entered Khawaja Effendi's room.

As I entered the room, Khawaja Effendi sat up in his bed like an eagle with grandeur and majesty. Seeing that, I changed my mind about talking to him. Some of my friends wanted to hold his hands and feet. He told them not to. I asked him to lean on a pillow. I checked his heartbeat, which was high. I asked my friends to remove the IV.

It was about eight o'clock. I had to be at work for a general inspection. I was not sure of what to do. I wanted to stay with Khawaja Effendi, yet I had to be at work because there was nobody else to replace me at work. If I asked for permission to leave, it would be quite improper. I looked at his face, and he said: "Permission is granted for you. You may leave."

I had the thought, yet I had not said anything. Hearing that, Dr. Alâaddin asked for permission: "May I leave, too?"

He said: "No, permission is not granted for you. You sit down!"

I left his room and went to work. Meanwhile, I kept calling my friends for information. After I left, he went into a coma-like state, then he was conscious again. Then he looked as though he was sleeping. He passed away in that state.

We all observed the generosity and physical and spiritual blessings of Khawaja Effendi. We tried our best to treat his illness, yet it was destined. In the end, he complied with the call from Almighty Allah.

November 9, 1992--Ilksav/ISTANBUL