I read three women-oriented books back to back in last three weeks, and each book explored the pros and cons of hope in their own unique way. The plot of all three books started just about the same. A girl falls in love with a boy. The love is too intense to avoid, and they get married in a jiffy. They see a few warning signs, but choose to ignore these — a common trait in most of the love stories. Did I mention these were non-fiction books? Yes, that’s true. These week-in-the-knees, falling-head-over-heels, love-at-first-sight stories are reality and not just an author’s imagination. Anyway, their lives remain heavenly with no sign of trouble anywhere on the horizon; however, trouble comes and knocks their whole world upside down. The problems are diverse:
- First book describes an abusive partner, who believes that he has every right to slap, punch, and kick his wife, as per his liking.
- Second book has narrated how a life falls apart when you marry an alcoholic.
- Third book expresses the sick mindset of a husband that a wife must spend her life in the kitchen, and her ambitions are worthless.
So, the problems are diverse; however, one point is strikingly common in all these [real] stories: Hope. Each one of these ladies is hopeful that one day, her husband would realize the error in his ways and come around. They give their husbands plenty of chances and see them crushing each of these opportunities by their arrogant attitude. Whenever these wives threatened these husbands that they would leave them for good, they instantly promised to change. The lost hope surfaced again, and things seemed going back to normal, but not for long. In two of these three books, hope gave a false assurance to the suffering wife that she can once again find the man, she fell in love with. In the third book, though, the husband accepted that his wife needs an identity of her own. The funny part is that he accepted this fact when his wife had lost all her hope. Probably, the proverb, a watched pot never boils, is true in the context of hope, too. Nevertheless, it did not work for the wives of the first two books.
This makes me wonder, what role does hope serves in our lives. Is it a boon or a bane? At the time of distress, a hope of a better tomorrow lightens up the gloomy mood. However, if we ignore the facts and consider the hope to be our faithful partner, doesn’t it increase the time of our suffering? What if the thin line between facts and hope diminishes, and our heart begins overpowering our logical brains? Hope cannot be a blessing, then. Can it?
P.S. This post is in response to the daily post prompt: Hope