Skip to main content

About Hope

Prologue: This post takes life from my interpretation of The Great Gatsby Book Review of The Great Gatsby which I read recently as an Optimist's manifesto, my own stupefaction of the incorrigible hope which lives with me and a response in the morning indicating hopelessness of hope.
 
Hope is a magical word of myriad meanings. It stands right in the middle of a mad man's fantasy and the cruel realities within which he survives. It hangs in the narrow space between improbable possibility and probably impossibility.
 
We die every moment that we live, every breath pulling us into the chasm which stares at us with the hunger of centuries roaring in those feral eyes. The eyes are dead, without passion which doesn't shine even in the kill.
 
We laugh, we sing, we dance and we love in the midst of this morbid pathos, and hopeless ennui which stretch before us like a road riding into nowhere.
 
We sustain this sadness, outlive this numbness which this life hands out to us through Art, Literature and above all love which cannot be possible without hope. Hope is the moon which shines across the darkest night and stands guard as a singular soldier of light.
 
Hope is like God, which it would be necessary to invent even if it were not there. It is not a desperate plea of the imbecile, it is in fact, most sensible resort of the wise. It is as Aristotle said, Hope is waking dream. Another writer which I love a lot, Dostoevsky  wrote, To live without hope is to cease to live. If some believe it amounts to fooling the intellect, let it be. I will always hope, for hope is only currency which I never run out of, only friend which never abandons me. There are very few things on which I could summon courage to contradict Nietzsche who said 'Hope in reality is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man.', contradict I will, for hope is only thing which makes bearable all the torments of a man.
2 comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man- James Joyce- Book Review

Amazon Link 
Some books are an act of education; they cannot be read in haste, cannot be understood in one read. James Joyce’s A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man gives one such feeling.
It is a coming of age story of Stephen Dedalus. Nothing extraordinary about that. But then there a rich, slowly flowing lost river of philosophy which moves beneath the surface, turning an ordinary story of a boy growing up, encountering questions about faith, religion and sex, into an exceptional, extraordinary and engaging story. The story moves along the timeline, much in the manner of Virginia Woolf’s To the Lighthouse, where the writer is seemingly a passive narrator. Further, while this book is more of a philosophical essay wrapped around a story, Ms. Woolf’s book, on the other hand, is rather a Story primarily, with a philosophical touch. This book is blatantly philosophical, dwelling into the dangerous territory of religion and how a growing mind looks at God. It begins with his school, whe…

Bahubali 2- The Conclusion- Movie Review

We are living in an extremely cause-heavy world where causes - real and imagined cloud our minds. I saw this in the case of the movie - Beauty and The Beast. There the quarrel of the social commentators was that it explored the gay angle of one of the characters only briefly, only fleetingly. There can be nothing more absurd than that. You are demanding more from an artist than possibly he can offer. Art is a profession of lonely persuasion, and it serves the purpose its creator desires it to serve. Nothing more and nothing less. It is sad and unfortunates that the liberals, which in Indian context largely translates to Leftists, insists that art is nothing but a vehicle that should be provided to them for their political agendas and narratives to ride on. It is like insisting that the reference to the Negroes in the "The Great Gatsby" should have been expanded to cover racism in detail. The brief episode was merely to substantiate the character and nothing more. Just as cre…

Resurrecting Hinduism- Without Embarrassment

I have been pondering about the sense of despondency, the sense of shame which has been imposed on the Hindu thoughts in Indian society. Every act of faith has to be explained, justified. When partition happened, Muslims fought and obtained an independent Nation, while the other large chunk of population, which, in spite of numerical supremacy, was subjugated for centuries, got India. In line with inherent openness and flexibility of Hinduism, India became a secular nation. This is a matter of pride, since it acknowledged the basic secular nature of Sanatan Dharm. However, as things would evolve, vested political interests considered India as unfinished agenda standing in the path of a religious empire being built world-wide. Through a well-calculated intellectual conspiracy of neglect and vilification, it came to a stage that modern Hindus where embarrassed of their religion and apologetic of their faith. This neglect also resulted in the religion being left to the guardianship of un…