Rohit Kishan Ray

Sometimes I have tried to imagine, how would it be to feel nothing, experience the nullity of existence? And my thoughts take shapes, at first, like a blank hollow space, like the blackness of eternal darkness only utter lack of light. As I ponder gauging the immeasurable degree of the depth of the abyss, a fear comes up nudging, a fear of nothingness. Yet my rationalization continues, like a small thought subdued in the middle of a mass. It is at least black, contained in a space. This is still something, not nothing yet. I try my best to peek into, and then again I fail. I fail to not imagine space. And then, the fear of nothingness takes hold of me, and reminds me of your absence. And the fear of my demise. The entry to nothingness. *** When the rational fails to find a sense, to the utter shock of your absence, I succumb to a false hope. Lit like a bulb in a darkness of the night. Yet that’s what the nature of things are. Even in the over-spreading vastness of space, a star that remains scarce despite incomprehensible luminance succumbs to the universal law of increasing entropy, if created, (at least in this universe) one shall decay. The truth of this remains scale independent. The atom to the star, the ant to the whale. including everything Will decay, Will end. *** An unfathomable scare grapples me, is then all of these -- For nothing? In the end? All those words of wise old scholars hinting towards this, yet when I truly try to gauge, (The meaning of those words) a primal fear creeps in. Maybe I’m not wise yet. I don’t think I’ll ever be. To learn from these mistakes. It’s one chance I’ve got, like you, and them, And everyone else. Except we’ve got hindsight, memory and history-wise, to learn from past mistakes. Yet the fear being so primal. As entropy remains incremental I will take similar mis-steps. *** So then the mind begs to ask, what’s the point of this daunting task of living? When the truth is, it’ll always end. Puzzled by this, weeks pass and days end, and years pass by, I routinely perform the serfdom of life, grappling reasons for doing so. Yet another stream of consciousness beg to differ, pointing at things that life has to offer. Before the eternity of nothingness. And what about the others who justify my existence? I come back with heightened sense of work, only to fail in the raging despair, Again. This time I don’t refrain, when even the measures to reduce pain need to be reinforced to prevent erosion. One day eventuality will take over, till then, I keep at bay, the nothingness.