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.