�As often as I could now, I went upstairs to Teyze's apartment when the maid Fikriyar was dusting her books. I would beg her to take out the book of African travels and open it for me on the floor. It was too large for me to handle, and when she had laid it down I stretched myself on the floor and tried to decipher it. In this position, resting on my elbows, I would struggle on till my eyes ached. It was so different from the Koran, and the words, even when I could make them out were such that I did not understand.