“something about nothing…”


“a poem about stillness”

Thinking of a poem about stillness and the end of it…
Every morning sunshine peeps in through this old window,
Like a sloth, I crawl towards the kitchen,
Make a cup full of tea, collect the newspaper which I read yesterday…
Nothing new is happening out there anyways.
In the backyard, I stare at the still money plant and ponder over the purpose of existence.
You think of purpose only when it’s calm around, well…Death is calm.
May be a moment of excruciating pain…
May be a feeling of being sucked by an anonymous force.
And then it’s all over, It’s calm..And silent

From morning till noon I think of my purpose as a being doing nothing.
Well..actually, I am thinking…
Spiritually doing a lot, it’s not tangible anyways…
Materializing thoughts hampers their purity from “lazy”stick point of view.
If I was an idea, ..why the creator materialized me?
I feel content with this idleness and stillness around.
I am not seeking any goddamn purpose.
Just thinking about the cozy nothingness of my life ,and how I am supposed to do to be marked as an important creature in this gigantic universe.What should I do to stir something and shake one or two galaxies…
Can anyone please pass me that cup of tea.
I am feeling lazy…
Well…Absolutely nothing I can do
My entire thoughts will exist in nothingness… And nothingness is everywhere…
Universe dwells in it, ..and hence I am omnipresent…
“God” that’s what I should be known as.
I am a creator  Fucking irony….Huh.        and still..

Like a sloth I live in my warm backyard waiting to be hunted by inevitable claws…
In the meantime, I play.
And that’s it.
That will be the end of everything.
But stillness will prevail..
I assume so…
I think I need an another cup of tea.
And will then write something about nothing.

Photograph by : Akshat Pathak


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