Cruel Hope

Positive thinking, optimism, fate, better future – is what we are living for, we are working towards or believing in. And the biggest word amongst them – HOPE – a hope for a better job, a better lifestyle, and of course for a lovelier relationship. So how does it feel when our “hope” plays tricks on us?

They say that hope keeps you alive, keeps your will to carry on against societal odds. It gives you the sudden bouts of euphoria in your gut, in anticipation of the wonderful dream you want to live in.

And hope results in praying. An endless praying to pacify the hope that kindles in your heart. Think about the innumerable incidences, occurring at this exact moment while you are reading this piece of article. A woman praying that the swell in her belly results in a boy, so that she doesn’t have to face the wrath of her in-laws. A boy striving hard with his science to scrape through his exams, parental pressure can’t get worse. A girl hopes against hope to sustain her love-life. A poor beggar-child hopes someone gives him a yummy pastry that is displayed in the windows of Sweet Chariot. An old government employee prays that, next day being Monday, his pension is going to be cleared.

All these glorious words are so intertwined – expectation, adjustment, respect, compromise, relationships, and love for that matter. It gets so messed up in your head, sometimes you tend to loose your identity, miss out on the balancing act of life.

There is also the paranoia of the cycle of ups and downs. One day you are happy but deep down you know something dramatic is in store for you. Somehow, hope plays a better role in the opposite case, morose times might lead to a delightful surprise, you never know!

The only respite is hoping that everything is going to be resolved. That the woman will have a baby boy or someone will take pity and treat the beggar-child with a pastry. And when it doesn’t – well, you still live on, taking one day at a time, hoping that the next day might lead you a bit further towards your dream. For people who give up, and finally are called cowards, take their own lives. They don’t have anyone left to rely or fall back on.

So isn’t hope cruel? To survive, you have to come down to the banal life of any other commoner on the road and continue the rat-race. Guess the “Great One” up there didn’t leave us an option, eh...!!!