Ten Days of Nothingness
Salim had lived a long and, in many respects, arduous life. He had ascended the ladders of success and descended into the pits of despair. He had danced to the symphony of life till his feet had swollen and his spirit had grown weary. He had journeyed far, explored every corner of existence, yet there remained a gnawing void, a feeling of incompletion that clung to him like a stubborn shadow.
Then, in the farthest reaches of his journey, amidst the labyrinthine riddles of existence, he found what he had been seeking. A simple, unassuming button labeled “Towards Nothingness”. It promised liberation from the incessant clamor of existence. A chance to slip into a state devoid of past, present, or future, a state of deep, dreamless sleep. The allure of nothingness seemed to eclipse the uncertainties that lay ahead.
With a heart brimming with resolve and without the slightest hint of hesitation, Salim pressed the button. A simple, cryptic message appeared: “You have ten more days in this existence, and after that, you will become a part of nothingness.” The weight of these words hung in the air around him, wrapping him in an oddly comforting silence.
At first, he panicked. The finality of it all felt like a weight pressing against his chest. Ten days. In just ten days, he’d cease to exist, to become part of the vast nothingness that he’d longed for. However, the more he contemplated, the more a strange sense of calm began to envelop him.
Staring at the dwindling hourglass of his existence, a potent question stirred within him: how should he spend these remaining ten days? He felt a peculiar surge of freedom. For the first time, the dance was his to choreograph, the symphony his to compose. The prospect was daunting yet liberating, somber yet exhilarating. With a newfound determination, Salim stepped into his remaining ten days, ready to embrace the ephemeral beauty of his fleeting existence.
On the first day, he sat by the ocean, watching the waves crash against the shore. There was an odd comfort in knowing that they would continue their dance long after he was gone, unconcerned by his departure. Their steady rhythm became a balm to his tired soul, a lullaby that reminded him of the world’s indifferent beauty.
The second day saw him in the city, walking aimlessly among the sea of humanity. He watched people go about their lives – some happy, some sad, some consumed by their routines. There was an odd relief in the realization that he would soon be freed from all these mundane intricacies.
On the third day, he found himself in a café, relishing each sip of his coffee, each bite of his cake. He savored the taste as if for the first time, realizing how he’d been taking these simple pleasures for granted.
Days four and five were for the arts – he immersed himself in books, music, and films. He let the emotions wash over him, allowing himself to feel, truly feel, the joy, sorrow, and beauty that they evoked.
On the sixth day, he took to writing. His pen danced across the pages, pouring out his thoughts, fears, and dreams, emptying himself into the white expanse. There was an odd sense of liberation in knowing that these would be his final words.
The seventh day was dedicated to his friends and family. He reconnected with those he’d lost touch with, saying his silent goodbyes without revealing his imminent departure. Their laughter and stories filled him with a warmth he hadn’t felt in ages.
On the eighth day, he simply walked. He wandered through forests, across fields, and along winding roads, feeling the wind in his hair and the ground beneath his feet. He became one with nature, basking in its serenity and the freedom it offered.
The ninth day was for him alone. He sat in silence, contemplating his existence and the impending nothingness. He felt an odd satisfaction, a sense of closure he hadn’t anticipated.
On the final day, he simply existed. He breathed, he moved, he felt. He took the time to appreciate his existence, every beat of his heart, every breath he took.
When the tenth day came to an end, he sat down, looking at the button with a strange sense of peace. He had lived, he had loved, and now, he was ready to become nothingness. With a smile, he closed his eyes, and the world faded away.
In the dance of life, with swollen feet,
A man seeks solace, a quiet retreat.
In the echoes of existence, he hears a song,
Of nothingness where he could belong.
A button he finds, in shadows cast,
Promising silence, freedom vast.
Without a pause, his choice was made,
Into the void, his fears will fade.
“Ten days remain,” a message said,
In life’s grand theatre, his final thread.
A question surfaces in his mind,
How to leave the world behind?
Day by day, he savors each,
From ocean’s lull to city’s screech.
He tastes, he feels, he sees, he hears,
His last few days, he holds them dear.
A final dance, a symphony’s end,
To family, to strangers, love he sends.
He walks, he writes, he quietly sits,
Each day a piece of life’s puzzle fits.
The tenth day dawns, he simply ‘is’,
In the mundane, he finds a bliss.
With one last breath, his journey ends,
Into the void, he descends.
In the dance of life, with swollen feet,
A man found solace, his journey complete.
Into the nothingness, he gently slides,
In the hush of the void, he now resides.
