Dulcet serenade in azure

No never will I roam for I know my place is home
Where the ocean meets the sky
I’ll be sailing.......

Puri beach

Tequila Sunset

A stuporous slumberous lazy languid sunset: Anjuna beach, Goa.

Nusquam

It is interesting to recall how I landed up on the topic for this blog. I am thinking of writing something, but not sure what about. I rummage through my mind – my recently picked up strands of communication with old buddies, generally boring cricket nowadays, the current book that I m reading (which rather has me interested in the theories of evolution et al), all that has happened (and still is) in the last 5-6 weeks (it does seem longer than that, though), the kind of boring mundane existence life is reduced to (not that it has been the greatest in the past, but whatever) or just my general obsession with myself. And then the gem of the idea strikes me. How about writing about nothing at all?

So this is a blog about nothing at all. Period.

Plain and simple. There is nothing that could possibly emerge out of it, nothing meaningful, nothing meaningless. The question of deriving any sort of meaning is also meaningless. But why are we getting into questions and meanings. This blog is about nothing.

There is an amazing amount of content in nothing. There is so much that nothingness does not reveal, that it deviously shrouds within itself. Why get into the idiosyncrasies of language? So much akin to the zero of arithmetic. So much, and yet so less. So less, and yet so much. No, the two statements are not vice-versa to each other. Think about it. But why even bother about thinking, or about numbers or language? This blog is about nothing.

The logic of languor is undeniably powerful. The desire to do nothing is powerfully persuasive. The temptation to let go of everything is more potent than the wildest of gales and the strongest of waves, more sublime than the sweetest of symphonies and the most superlative of performances. But then, this blog is not about the desire to do nothing. It is about nothing.

Nothing at all.

(Bong) Land Ahoy!

Life takes you places.

It really does. Sitting in a crammed auto, wading our way through the bustling 2 meter wide road on our way to the ‘happening’ Tribeni market, I couldn’t help having the feeling. And interestingly, I couldn’t help comparisons with similar Sunday sojourns on similarly laden autos to the temple town across the bridge on the river kwai. This is what life has reduced to, one could say. Comparing auto rides in Bongland and Gultland. Yes m’boy, life indeed takes you places.

People, people and more people. In all shapes and sizes – spherical, cubical, tetrahedral, even two-dimensional. With all sorts of banners and posters, and funny looking slogans. With apparently no work to do, except somehow merge with the identity of banners, posters and slogans. Things happen in Bongland. Atleast purportedly, they do.

There is such a stuporous languor to this place that one cannot help but get affected. The air itself is heavy with drowsiness. The birds chirp away to torpor. The moles and squirrels while their time away to lassitude. Nothing moves. Atleast, nothing that is not made to, much to its chagrin. Violating the first half of the law of inertia is almost a criminal infringement.

Survival is a difficult art. Survival in face of sustained temptation to let go and drown in the honeydew of life is difficult still. Tribeni provides a good challenge!