Aliya Naseer Farooq
Hope is the light that shines in the window of the girl who has just been told that she is not pretty. Hope is the warmth that spreads in the heart of a woman upon seeing a child, having lost her own. Hope is the fire that keeps the homeless man cozy in his loneliness. Hope keeps us human. Hope is the spring in our step when starting a brand new day.
The girls lit up window, the smiling face of the childless woman, the homeless man’s will to struggle and survive are indicators of the strength and resilience of the human spirit.
I wanted to write a positive, motivational piece today – something full of hope and sunshine; a message of light and goodness, but the barrage of violence, murder and mayhem invading my senses from all possible sources are fogging up my sensibilities. The rose colored glasses – my favorite ones, are blurry from the mist of soul tears. We are living in dangerous times. We seem to be heading towards annihilistic, sadistic, violent savagery. This same thought must have crossed countless minds in times bygone. Time’s sedimentary rocks must have layers upon layers of human sentiments similar to mine. In the times of famine and dearth, during the wars, under the rule of despots – men and women have passed through the same tunnels of desperation and despair.
“Hope springs eternal in the human breast…” is an expression coined by Alexander Pope in his poem “An Essay on Man” in 1732 which has become proverbial as it drives home the innate human need to keep on hoping, no matter what the odds. Yet, man being the chameleonic creature that he is, has disagreed with Pope’s vindication of “the ways of God to men”, and John Milton’s claim in the opening lines of Paradise Lost that claim that he will “justify the ways of God to man”. Those who followed have even gone so far as to say “…Hope, it breeds eternal misery…”
Hoping against hope is another facet of man’s idealism, cheer and expectation.
An unfavorable diagnosis, an unexpected turn of events: unmanageable crises; when things do not go the way we desire or when our plans fail to come through, what takes us through these tough times and puts the wind in our sails is that ol’ faithful friend – Hope. Man has hoped against hope, hoped for bigger and better, higher, deeper and diverse.
Hope spans a spread as vast as the human condition. Each of us is unique, each having our very own set of hopes and aspirations, each desiring differently. One man’s medicines may be the other one’s poison. Similarly, what I hope for may be your worst nightmare. I, for one, yearn for solitude and serenity – to be away from the maddening crowd. You, on the other hand, may thrive in lively rambunctious revelry. Our hopes shape our aspirations, ambitions and consequently our lives.
Be careful of what you desire, dream of and hope for – it may well come through!
Hope has been a mantra of survival in times of dire circumstances and turbulence. Anne Frank ‘hoped’ as she wrote in her new diary on June 12th, 1942 that her diary becomes a window into the lives and hopes of many others like her during World War II. Yet others ‘hoped’ against hope in the gas chambers of Auschwitz-Birkenau.
Soldiers hope; when bombs fall around, shrapnel rains down, fires blaze and bullets fly past; blood and body parts of fellow men are scattered and they lose friends while killing foe – a little creased, stained photograph in their breast pocket radiates warmth and love – giving them just what they need: hope.
On the other side of the world, far, far away from the trying and terrifying lives of these brave men and women, a girl lies on her bed in a curfew-ridden city, her window plastered with newspaper to block all lights – enveloped in darkness she hopes her love would survive the mayhem – while her tattered photograph warms his heart and pulsates – giving hope to him – continents apart.
We all hope for a better world. We all must work towards it; work towards the change we wish to see and be that change. If you want to see more kindness, be more kind. You want to bring an end to violence, be gentle. One small step at a time will do more than despondently “Waiting for Godot!”[1].
Whether it is our hope for a better life, better status, or better “us” – it is the life spring. Hope is that proverbial light at the end of the tunnel that keeps our path bright and guides us through the pitfalls on the way.
Good cheer for the days ahead, hope and ambition are the stuff of life. Martin Luther King once said, ““If you can’t fly then run, if you can’t run then walk, if you can’t walk then crawl, but whatever you do you have to keep moving forward.”
Walk, run or fly – it’s your path, your life and you get to choose – choose hope. Choose life. Choose you!
[1]“Waiting for Godot!” is a play by Samuel Beckett.
