Writing about ‘just something’ is a difficult thing to do because the idea of ‘something’ as against a particular thing is not just vague, but also sounds rather confused and foggy, which it might often be. But then one is more likely to find thinking about something a little more rewarding than thinking about a particular thing simply because there are so many things in the world that thinking about something particular is tedious and boring whereas thinking about something keeps the variety going for one. After all, there can always be delicious little servings of ‘somethings’ without the burden of having to find a particular thing in supply generous enough to be of any consequence. You might be thinking what is this ‘something’ about, and how is it different from ‘anything’.
To keep it short and sweet, the term ‘anything’ suggests that one is a quintessential destitute with a begging bowl held out and just about any dime that rings in the bowl would do whereas ‘something’ suggests that one is looking for a certain quality, a particular spark, anywhere and in just about anything. One is not looking for a particular thing as a whole; it’s just about that spark, that little quality which makes it click.
The ‘something’ relates to a vague idea that is not fully formed. The outlines of this idea are irregular and the contents that rest within the outlines are, by and large, unclear. It is this enigmatic quality wrapped in the translucent veil of drunken uncertainty that constitutes the charm of the ‘something’. It is the gray area between the known and the unknown that excites human beings the most.
A famous, young musician commits suicide when everything in the world is going for him. He is rich and famous with loads of fans going mad for his autographs, but, after having achieved all that, he chooses to not enjoy the fruits of his talent and hard work, but bid adieu to the world for the unknown land behind the dark curtains that nobody every returned from. We know some part of the story. We know who was he and how he came to be what he was, but what intrigues us and keeps our curiosity smoldering is a simple question: Why did he kill himself?
People who are depressed and have no hope seek refuge in the unknown because they believe that no matter how bad the other side it, it could not be worse than this side. But when this side is bright like Sun, the other side could only be darker. So, why choose the other side? Well, this is ‘something’. But then, this is ‘something’ is beyond definition. One can show what it is, but can’t define it, which is why to describe it one has to show it every time. Yes, this little piece is a crazy little piece. But then, my friend, I never promised to write about ‘anything’, much less anything of any real value.
Originally published on Ezine Articles on April 8, 2013.
