In enchanting Istanbul, the capital of imagination, while others might be relishing joy, the elegant lady wasn't sharing the same moment. She rushed miles without feeling the pleasure of arrival, or the beauty of standing before the river. Oh, the sweetness and splendor of Istanbul's rivers! It's as if you're facing your dream, stretching towards beauty's bouquet.

She truly is elegant, just like the other women in the city. Beauty blends with a sense of pride and grace in her. Her coat, made of luxurious fur suitable for the city's chill, adds its own charm. Her breath flows like white smoke patterns, as if drawing hearts and stars in the sprinkled snow, which then vanish like magical displays.

With her delicate fingers, she clutches an umbrella to shield herself from the drizzles, matching the enchanting color of her coat. Upon arriving, she throws herself onto a wooden bench near the river's edge. On the other end of the bench sits a handsome man, seemingly in his early forties, with captivating eyes reflecting the river's hue. Just like most of the handsome locals in Istanbul, you realize you're in the presence of beauty, even if you've previously dismissed all of Europe.

She sits gracefully on the bench while the handsome man discreetly observes her. Lost in thought, she seems to pour her heart out to the river in front of her, as if it were a confidant, a companion, a lover. She communicates with it, and in response, the ships whistle back. White birds circle above, welcoming and expressing fondness for her. Then, her gaze stretches to the distant horizon, trying to escape memories that might tarnish the serenity of her surroundings. Memories of a powerful slap from her drunken husband because she was too ill to go to work and bring him money for his debauchery, alcohol, and affairs. Pleading memories of her hungry children, their little stomachs nearly eating each other, with not even half a lira left in the house after paying rent and clothing expenses.

The river overflows again as emotions flood her, ship horns wail in sorrow, and the handsome man watches silent tears fall. He's bewildered. How could a woman dressed in such luxury, holding a delicate umbrella, with hands that suggest a life of comfort, have such wearied eyes? Even her tears have an elegance, a haughtiness, a silence to them.

His own thoughts cascade, too, reflecting the turmoil of a man with a loud, unreasonable wife who constantly berates their children. She lacks the skills of affection and understanding. Everyone avoids her to maintain their dignity. He wishes for the elegant woman to take his wife's place, believing she deserves flowers every morning, a palace fit for princesses, and a life filled with love.

Both are oblivious to each other's realities. Appearances can deceive and cloud judgments. No one truly knows the burdens of another, the stories hearts bear. The ship sails smoothly, but onboard are countless tales and more.

From her warm seat, she sheds her last tear. He bravely approaches, asking if she needs help. With a dreamy smile and in Turkish, she replies before departing, "Teşekkürler" (Thank you).