A message from an ordinary Syrian person to the Syrian president Bashar Al-Assad. This might probably be the best thing you read about Syria today.
I’m an ordinary Syrian citizen and I’d like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for your speech on 30 March 2011. I don’t want to comment on the political side of your speech because I’m not that good at it but I’d like to congratulate you for your wit and sense of humor and your unique style. It was clearly very much picturesque. Please, if you think that I’m making fun of you or picking on you, you’re probably right.
You wouldn’t believe how much I’ve loved your quick wittedness and the presence of mind you have. It made you so attentive to mention every point that might lead to a joke, and actually, it was so impressive and equally so risky because you didn’t reserve any of your jokes for future use. I already have worries that your next speech wouldn’t be as funny as this one.
Moreover, I was taken by your optimism and extremely surprised by your joyfulness. I’ve honestly tried to find the reasons behind that as well as justifications for each one of your jokes, but unfortunately Mr. President, I don’t have your “inherited” wit and intelligence to comprehend your happiness and optimism throughout your speech.
Furthermore, I bet that the twenty four million Syrians don’t even dream to have a level of intellectuality and profoundness of thinking like yours to be able to comprehend your words and intentions. Indeed, you’re very humane, which, as I think, was the reason to draw a nice smile on your face and an elegant laugh after each joke all the time throughout the speech.
Everything I’ve understood from your forty-minute speech is that you’re a funny person and have a nice sense of humour. I also discovered that our parliamentarians are very much talented and good at poetry. It was delightful to listen to ten poems praising your highness and divinity while you were throwing amusing jokes all over. Moreover, it was so pleasant to hear forty times intensive hand clapping throughout your forty minutes speech.
Please, excuse me Mr. President; I wasn’t able to laugh at your jokes and to keep up with your amazing sense of humor because I still remember those peaceful Syrian citizens who’ve been shot dead by your security forces.
My heart’s still crying for them and I still remember their dead bodies in streets in my own lovely, and supposedly, peaceful country. My soul still feels pain for the losses, for every father and mother lost their sons and daughters, for every wife lost her husband, for every child lost his or her father or mother, for every brother and sister lost their most beloved ones.
Yes, Mr. President, I’m still in intensive sorrow and great sadness for those who asked for their basic and fundamental rights and have been killed for it, therefore, forgive me, and perhaps, I’ll be able to share you your happiness in another occasion.
Now excuse me Mr. President, I can say no more, but I have to warn you though, never listen to news or see pictures of those killed civilians, so you don’t lose your charming smile, because you’re still the last smiling person I’ve seen from Syria. I suppose that we want to keep the last funny joker ruling our country.