BLANK

You know that time between two moments, that feeling of nothingness? The time when no thought occupies your mind and no sense penetrates your brain – no particular sound, no definite vision and no decipherable taste. That time when you just feel BLANK.

Most parts of my last few months have been like that. Blank. Admittedly, it was not my favorite state of being. Ironically, the indifference bothered me.

I am not a slow person. Or so I’d like to believe. I comprehend everything around me. Surely, a sign of an intelligent being. However, no response to any stimulus from my part seemed needed. It seemed pointless and even meaningless. To add to this, just like the pages of diary rendered blank as the pencil marks fade away with the passage of time, my memory seemed faded. Distant. Need I also comment upon the uncertainty of the visions of future?

So as it always happens when I hit rock bottom I texted my friend describing my predicament. “Blank is good,” came her concise and severely frustrating reply.  

How can blank be good? Blank is uncertain. Uncertain in unknown. I fear the unknown. Everybody fears the unknown and its many manifestations such as darkness, future or even people from unfamiliar races or places.

And yet now I am starting to see the wisdom in her words.

It is good to be blank because you free from the burden that too much information imposes on you. Let me break it down further. Every day you make many decisions. In today’s world so much information is at your disposal that in an attempt to make the best choice you try to assimilate as much knowledge about a particular topic as you can before finally deciding upon it. The result is that your brain is constantly in a state of deliberation, trying to sort out the information. Without a second's rest you proceed to the next task which means even more information.

Now with all of us trying to make the most informed choices, the scope for going by instincts reduces significantly. The gut feeling is replaced by the statistical truth. Of course this reduces chances of mistakes but this is done at the cost of experimenting. So most of us end up following a life trajectory that has been tried and tested. And since the market is providing so many “customized choices” which are safe for the individual, necessity being the mother of all inventions gets shut away in a corner.

So blank is good. It is full of possibilities. It is good that pencil marks fade away. Because then you can fill the blank pages with new stories. Who wouldn’t prefer a diary with words scratched midway over book with mathematical formulae printed on it?

It is good to be informed. It is good to think. It is good to make a wise choice. But it is better to fall back sometimes, get a perspective and plunge head first into life. Because then you can have the pleasure of surprising yourself.

A Little Story

Once there was a man. He was walking home on a windy autumn evening. He walked slowly, almost reluctantly. There were tear stains on his face and his clothes were all askew. He had always hated funerals. But then again whoever liked them?

As he walked on, he felt someone’s gaze on him. He lifted his head and caught the sight of a man. It was just the man he wanted to see at a time like this. It was his best friend. He smiled at his friend warmly and got a smile in return. The presence of his friend worked like magic. In no time the two were talking and laughing, all the sorrow of the day forgotten. Soon they could be found running around and playing like they used to when they were kids. The place was filled with the echoes of their laughter – a laughter of innocent pleasure that remains saved exclusively for childhood against the treacherous hands of time.

During their play they came across an old tree and decided to put their tree climbing skills to test. The man took the first turn ascending while his friend remained below. But time had played its game well. The man was no longer the agile kid. He lost his balance and with a scream fell to the ground. When the pain had subsided a little, he looked up at his friend accusingly. Why had he not caught him? His friend stood there, simply looking, his face expressionless. There seemed something different about him, but what it was the man could not quite put his finger on. He held out his hand to his friend, asking for his assistance. His friend’s face remained impassive. He moved his hand but stopped midway.

Shocked, the man yelled at his friend from the ground, tears pouring down again. He begged for his friend’s help and comfort. Was this his friendship? True friends do not leave their friends lying on the ground.

With great effort he got to his feet. He sighed heavily and turned around, resuming his journey home. Tears no longer ran down his face. He had to go home. His family will be waiting for him for dinner. 

He had left his friend under that tree. Let that bastard rot in his grave.