Illusory

Hello Omar,

I am Christin,

When I read your message, I smiled once, and grieved twice.

Smiled because of women’s instinct to like flirtation and compliments even if they deny it.

And grieved twice, once over you, and once over me. It is the curse of beauty, Omar!

The curse that kills everyone.

It inflicts love on men, jealousy and envy on women.

It inflicts loneliness and depression on beautiful women.

Everybody is racing to reach out to her, but they remain in the rally leaving her out of reach. If he gets the chance to be by her side, he will grow miserable because of her misery.

He loves a woman who is in everyone’s heart, until he feels that she is no longer his, but rather everyone’s!

Beautiful women are the most miserable ones, Omar.

They break ordinary men’s hearts, while well-off men break theirs.

Excuse me, Omar!

We, broadcasters, are not beautiful even if we have some beauty.

It is the result of sleight of hand, stuffed beauty, artificial features, and deliberated allure.

One of us grieves over the falling of her false eyelashes more than the falling of atrocities. She fears the mistakes of misspelling more than the mistaken bombing.

We are nothing but toys, or maybe a machine reading good news and bad ones with the same feelings and features. There is no difference between the inauguration of a cabaret or slaughtering hundreds of your children at night.

Sorry Omar!

I have not asked you about your life

Because I know it well

I know it is as bad as the country you live in

There are some thieves among you. They appear at the expense of indigent people. They live in upscale villas. They falsely claim to speak up on behalf of the poor and hardworking.

Their conversations are boring. Their standpoints contradict with diverse information.

They allow themselves to speak on your behalf to get 200 dollars after each harangue.

We suffer from them more than you do.

Maybe we curse them more than you do.

Nonetheless, I congratulate this miserable country for having you and such obscure poets, and send my condolences because that gang was able to disfigure your images.

Leave them aside now!

I know you envy our men because of having our beauty, but you don’t know that we envy your women because of having you, because of your feelings full of softness, because of your magical words that can conquer any woman’s heart.

Your women do not probably realize your importance as we do. Maybe it is due to their conservative nature or rather stupidity!

Your neighbor may have peeked out of the window and snatched your heart and messages.

Your colleague may have approached you at university or work. Hopefully, she would be able to get a bunch of your love and words.

Your friend may have stopped you asking for a souvenir shop to escort her to it.

My apologies for the flowers that die in your hearts before your eyes.

My apologies for the words that age in your tongues before your silence

My apologies for your kindled hearts when they dim because women want marriage more than love

One line of your message, Omar, makes me happier than traveling to San Francisco to take a photo with Donald Trump in front of the garden of the White House

A warm word of love compensates me for going skiing in Moscow

A sincere flower is better than a stroll in the gardens of Andalusia

I stopped wandering around continents and countries as I used to do so. Now, I am wandering between words and alphabets into your message. I have become more interested in freeing your messages than freeing any countries.

Finally my friend!

Do not be a cheapskate and send more messages to me. They are not mere messages as you think, but rather precious tickets to navigate through the cities that I love the most. Cities that we gain nothing from its visiting but great poets like you!

This was a broadcaster’s reply after she received a message from a Yemeni guy. He has written a poem describing her beauty and blonde hair. He has mentioned that her beauty overshadowed his country’s disasters and war when he watched the news. The Arabic poem is very rhetoric and full of metaphors. I tried my best to translate it accurately without ruining it. It touches my heart, so I hope it touches yours too.

May Allah abate these scourges upon Yemenis, Uighurs, Syrians, Palestinians, Iraqis, Libyans, and every free spirit on earth beyond any religions!