Hasret, Hasrat, حسرت— quite the word
which has spread across the Oriental realm;
A word whose effects can never be replicated
nor described by its Occidental counterpart, "Longing, Desire;"
The latter are simple means to state one's want,
the former, portrays us behind the locked doors of tomorrow,
its key stuck in the throat, as one chokes on yesteryears' tears,
or swallows words left unsaid.
To see what beauties the world can offer through your screen,
yet unable to reach out towards them;
To hear the voices of newfound love from intangible plateaus,
that which we call social platforms, barred behind a decade's salary
of a plane ticket, to witness the greatness of your favorite artist
from up close- "No! Never! you live amongst savages!
Do you live under a rock? Have you not been watching the news since residing in the womb?
You were fated to drown in sanctions— your so called sophistication is a delusion of sub-human nature!"
the average man of the West roars gallantly, with his trembling fingers upon a keyboard, ascertaining his superiority.
"Wow! A Westerner has replied to your post! Lucky you! Invite him over to the country and show him around!"
remarks the average man of the East, bedazzled by, frankly, nothing but the color of his passport;
He does not recognize the strange shapes on my screen
strung together to insult ancient heritage.
At the end of the day, his colorful passport, fancy accent and bright skin tone, gets him what he wants— no reason to understand,
or delve into the roots of "Hasret"
For Hasret is not learned in comfort,
nor spoken among silver spoons;
It is lived behind closed borders,
where the key turns not in the door,
but churns in the throat.