Hope

Words are etched in the books of history not by men with money, power or fame. History is written by the will of man. Every day the sun gives birth to a new dawn, a new life full of endless possibilities, desires and aspirations. Everyday it withers away too but not with disappointment but with pride and a promise to come again. Anything born is destined to die. But one thing never dies. It stays on for days, months, years and even centuries. It is called hope. It endures the strongest of storms, the coldest of winds but still remains warm in the hearts of men. People with hope don’t go out to change the world. With their will power they change themselves and the world follows.

The malice of a few seconds can be the bane of centuries. But even centuries of noise and violence cannot withstand the silence of a few seconds. After its phenomenal development, mankind expects a standing ovation, but a muted silence is all that it gets. A silence so profound in itself that all words fall short in front of it. Even time cannot fill this vacuum. Only two things still hold their ground. Will and hope. I do not chastise and I do not praise. I just hope that together we can help fill this gaping void.