Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Big Time @ Ujjain

Oh Soft Master, Oh Silent One. One with the lovely doe-eyes, the one with the beautiful sarcastic smile. The one who has his hand showing boons and blessings to the ones less fortunate. Oh the calm morbid one, the one who has owned us through time and death indeed, 

How many may have left their lives, where have they gone to? I wonder, surmise that I too shall be joining the army at pearly gates way too soon. I wonder how it will look from a stranger’s eyes?

Now, where has Big Time disappeared to, the rolling force of apathy and destruction – changing dust to dust and raising more for another’s demise. The great god Kala – looking fervourous towards all, in deep drunken bliss, waiting to be pulled out of his hangover and then of course it is game over for all of us.

At the center of India – lies the beautiful Maha Kala temple situated in the small and powerful town of Ujjain. Some other time – there would have been fear and fervor like the kinds I love, with mystery and occult intermixed and how!

Wait, we have to wait for it. There is no other question about it. Look at the beauty and wonder which Maha Kala evokes. The master destroyer, who sits on skulls and bones. Eating and smoking flesh of his servants. Abhorring all that is wrong, there is some form of innocent childlike love which occupies the hearts of those sitting with him. To be eaten / devoured into his mouth and never to occupy the ego of false self again. This is how liberation tastes and smells like, I wonder such!

It was high time I stepped into the temple, old and grave, with images of the lord mustering out all forms of ignorance wherever it may arise from (as if it can from anywhere else than one’s mind)

I donned the cap of solitude and extroversion and went inside the temple quietly chanting the maha mantra – the name of this black blood drunk existential force. Which may set me free, which may not let me be – me. This is exactly what I wanted. I have had enough of wandering lusting around for liberation to come and seek me. 

I wish for quick death, even painful one. Doesn’t matter as long as that at the end of it – there is a tryst with this supernatural entity. This dark force – couple of dark energy. Male and conscious – with its foot stomping me out – so that I can never exist again. This I wonder most of all, and how I wonder.
The temple is defintely old, yet even during ritualistic hindu calendar times, it would not be so crowded. This mad hatter cannot offer anything to his devotees, those who exist because he hasn’t absorbed them, kind of funny I feel – that he hasn’t merged his devotees, maybe they need to learn how to die before they really do.

There was lot of liquor and blood to be had here in the past. This was of course the master of war we are praying and paying obeisance to. Not some jester or make belief. This is the gory truth of nature. That comes must pass, that passes must burn, that burns must fade, never to be seen or replicated any which way.

I feel good, if I must say. There was fright and decay. Now all left to unto its own play. I bother not what happens to this fragment of body and mind. The heart too if I was to speak philosophically, its all OK.

Ok to die and fade away, alone morose or whichever dismal exiting way. I have thrown wind to the precautions, and waiting for the silent aghori master to come tap my shoulder and show me one last time the way. Then no more – no more indeed of this world’s endless shadow play. This much is certain whatever comes my way.

I pray and meditate how much I can inside this commercial tomb of past relics, where perhaps the linga exudes the power of commerce now more that any real form of power. Oh of the Lore! Where warriors came and made this external symbol a sign of their inner failures. Died on the spot and gave up their material coils for the one true Natha!
The temple reeks of the power of days gone by. When people prayed to their deaths as a savior from this taskless ramshackled life which they didnt call a life (quite contrary to nowadays - where people boast of the kind and quality of life they have, yet I feel they have none). What admiration to people who would throw away everything to look at an abstract yet real and bounding concept of death. Death which ends everything. Removes memory and removes relations. This is what they prayed to, emulated and finally gave everything to. Before the real physical death happened. Some even created their own final ending. So they could have and give up control during the time of their reckoning. Their salvation. 
(Its not about the temple - its not about the place even though there is energy there. There has to be real founded feeling. Real existential requirements which make you go there, to be a part of the hum drum and the sharp and true loneliness of the crematorium) 

The Shiva Linga - adorned with a face; hair made to look like a 
mustache -> impressive and adorable. With mock and reverent devotees all around touching kissing praying to the symbol of phallic stone consciousness. The motor drive which will fly us into outer space; from where we originated. Where we must make our final journey to stay. I prayed too, diving deep into the ocean of inner chaos and the peace which ensues from therein. Stayed not for long as the filthy police wannabes were busy chasing away the love which may come looking at something so simple after lifetimes. But that is useless to impress upon them anywhich ways. 
I sat silent, exuberant and in peace and then it was TIME; I mean BIG TIME to leave. I know it would come to this, and soon enough it would come to the burning of one's own pyre. When would it be time for such deeds? 
How would I too, without adequate love and care. I too would wither – perhaps the master shall come. Offer me his Damaru (drums) and Daaru (wine). Perhaps we could dance together in the hopelessness of it all, one last time before he could dine on my corpse and make it a feast and fest hopefully!

Lets pray to that for sure.

Om NamaCivaya

Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Twin Goddesses of Cochin

Recently I had the blessings of Devi –> which made me travel to the calm island land of Cochin in the state of Kerala, though I had gone on work, I took out some basic time to visit one of the places which I have wished to salute for a long time.
There is a powerful temple near the Cochin airport called Chotanikkara. The temple has helped me out way in the past, time where I was under depression of the existential sorts – and goddess gave me the power and wisdom to overcome (that is another story though). This was more than a decade back and I had wished to come and see the power place. Thankfully Goddess came to my rescue.
Post my work, Before leaving for the airport in the morning I detoured to Chotanikkara, it was Nava-ratri time and these are the special times for goddess where she is prayed to as protector and destroyer of evil. There was intense prayer happening with the small idol of beautiful Devi being carried around on an elephant.
This temple is known for its supernatural powers – legend has it that the place was surrounded by ignorant spirits. The goddess was found by a farmer in the middle of a Smashan Ghat (This is a regular occurring event for finding goddess energy in India)
The farmer was a devotee and soon a temple came about – the goddess is three fold – Saraswati / Lakshmi and Durga. This is the unique feature about her worship.
I was already pretty emotional and the crowd of diviners and semi mad people dancing in trance in front of the elephant to the hypnotic beat of drums wasn’t really helping. I soon was in semi tears – kundalini associating with this beautiful place and the feminine life giving and taking energy which has been settled here. I went around the temple circumambulating slowly with the crowd feeling the power of Mother seeping in slowly and surely.
Though Devi is not locationally bound at the least, there are places in the country and indeed across the world where natural energy is at its best. Especially temples in Kerala for Goddess worship – where prayer is done through Tantra – using mudras / mantras / yantras and blood sacrifice along with formulae to awaken the latent potency of the Kundalini / Gaia.
The original energy was of Vishnu and Lakshmi and further legends state of idol of Fierce Bhadrakali also being found in a lake nearby. There is indeed two devi’s here in the temple area. One is the main goddess – who is more or less the trinity goddess and is worshipped for more Satvic causes than rest.
There is also another temple nearby – She is the Kava Goddess – or interpreted as the Goddess who resides in the cave/cove. There are dime a dozen coves in Kerala – places where energy resides – stagnates – whirlpools and is generally easily found to pray to. I went to this temple and found reminisces of both Sri Yantra worship and Sudarshana Yantra worship.
This is truly one of a kind – as both yantras / mantras are found with different deities mainly goddess and Vishnu as their benefactors. Yet this was one of the few, if not only place in country where the Goddess was being worshipped with both.
I was overwhelmed and took time to pray and see the place as non-judgmentally as possible (indeed a very difficult task). Removing the two eyes and placing them at the feet of goddess, I found refuge with the third eye witnessing devotees of the goddess dancing like mad folks in ecstasy. Not the first time I have seen such scenes to the beat of the drum, but to the power of devotion – indeed a very moving scene.
I took time to meditate, pray, cry and rejuvenate. Indeed a place where the old can be discarded and the new can be embraced, where the old is let go with love and respect and the new is embraced with acceptance and joy. Where the present is what remains all – time.
Goddess Chotanikkara was beautiful to say the least, powerful majestic regal and oh so kindred. I was her insignificant child – gone astray – who she helped so many lifetimes and once again. To call me home, not on land but with the help of tears which made me let go of the negativities and ego constraints I was holding on to. Making me freer, simpler, humbler and lovelier fragment of her exuding sensuous existence.
I was refreshed; to say alive in another way, even a little time spent in chanting and praying to her alleviates all misery. This I am very sure of. Om Namoh Chandi.
Wishing everyone a beautiful Nava Ratri!

Peace & Joy

Friday, November 27, 2015

Terrorist Bastards


The world is battling now, don’t you see. We have been plagued by the terrorists – who have given up the honor of plain old war. They have become smart – they strap bombs and blow themselves up. They kill themselves and kill us too.


We should be really afraid of these terrorist bastards – out to prove their point. Without a second thought – they have us by our ends. What have we done to incur such negativity from these bastards. We all wonder. Without much introspection – we have condemned men and women like us to be the devil themselves.

What of the peacekeeping force which we all have gotten used to, you know the armed forces – murderers and rapists who have been sent across continents to save our fucking futile kinds.

They have strapped bombs on their waists shredding us into waste. Waiting for the right time, to declare war of a bomb blast in kind. No they are not someone you don’t know – they are the bastard war veteran sitting your front room floor. Yes the putrid satanic kinds, spewing love for borders and countries and blood in time.

Stay away from the terrorist bastards lest you become one, the kinds which justify actions of self while calling others cowards. I failed to see why one is not the other.


You see I have a problem with Guns and Ammo. The things that make stupid men look and feel important. The things which make your greed manageable and make you believe of your grandeur. Yes I have a problem verily with anyone brandishing these awful items of war and hate.

And you see, the peaceful society you have made – this delicate and stupid lie which you have made yourself believe is founded only on the spirited power of the gun and mortar. Of land bombs and anthrax. Let us not forget the mighty N-Bomb. The one which will make us realize the beauty of peace, living continuously in the fear of the next grand scale terrorist attack.

You are not a terrorist based on caste or creed, you are a fucking terrorist if you have a gun and use it. Defending or attacking, you are the plague of mankind. The kinds which will justify death with death, pain with pain and hate with hate.

Do not call someone who blows some people up as a terrorist. I urge you to see your life and that all you are, based on the false pretense of peace is because of you paying vast amounts all your life for such terrorists to protect and keep you dumb to the war and hate

You can afford to go off the grid to make comments which have any value (according to yourself) but at the least try not to be a terrorist yourself protected by armies of millions of robots while commenting on the atrocities of others which have made them sad and terrible bastards like yourself.

I may not be supporting the war efforts or rather peace efforts of our world worthily by making such hurtful comments (I am well aware of this) but inherently this feeling of hate makes me loathe myself and not anyone else. There is only one way to remove terrorism of any kind (including mass scale wars) and that is by Acceptance and Peace. Inner and outer realms included.

Peace and Joy

The Hardest Route


An act of salvation, only the hardest way up.

As we start there is a inkling doubt of the nature of risk we all have undertaken, there are something's which can not be changed, but for everything else we could have taken the easier way out. None of us did and this is where it has landed us.
At a dismal height of 23 000 feet, with ice and snow all around us. Nothing to see us die if we were to. Indeed it is a difficult thought which we all have actively embraced.

To become a part of something great, without the greatest loss in place – seems inappropriate somehow by nature’s standards. This is what we must give to accept glory of the all mighty. Who lands the mountain at our face, so we may accept to climb it. The deadly K2. of the Karakoram range.

I could not imagine a time, when I would not be climbing. Everyone in my family back in Switzerland thought I was crazy; no safeties no nothing. Bare knuckle climbing, but now to think of it those were the alps – deadly yet not high altitude, the air was still there for us to breathe, for us to survive. This was god’s joke – to reach his layer we had to let go of the one thing we needed most to survive. Oxygen.

I know many would ridicule the notion of trying the north face of this holy terror. Many have died trying and many refuse to come once seeing the immensity in proportion – oh yes it may be exciting to try to climb it – the very notion. But here making the push for the summit with my other two numb and brain dead colleagues. I wonder who is the one who was smarter, us or the ones looking for our graves in a year’s time at the base.

The weather is worsening, its becoming colder by the minute. I wonder if the push up would lead us to heaven or back to ground. My other colleagues dear and dying like myself with no oxygen to breathe. Oh why did we not carry supplemental tins? Why did we want to do this without any idea.

K2 has become the deadly specter – watching us losing our senses and waiting for us to collapse. Maybe it does this to everyone who comes near. That’s why its so far away from civilization – marooned like an island up in the sky.

The fog is getting denser, the air is stifling and cold and the sun has drowned itself behind the mighty ogre. There is nothing which can go worse. Then it starts snowing. Gently at first but I can see that this is not going to go away, not anytime soon.

It has been over 2 days we are buried in the immensity of white gold. Under layers of blankets – its still dipping below –40 degrees centigrade. No where for men to be. One of my friends has started speaking inanities, the kinds which happen before the brain dies with lack of water and oxygen. We remain extremely wary of each other – he too may be saying the same about me, there are no kind ways to be in your wit and at the same time having a companion in this dreadful ice island is more than my life could give back to anyone. I remain quiet, introspective and almost hopeful my death will arrive today – quick and painless perhaps, but what can I speak about that already the ancient gods of this mountain have not spoken on my behalf.

The weather worsens and I start praying for perhaps the first time in my life. The prayer is to be kind as the weather passes and that it may lead us to the summit. Only once.

No one has climbed this face before us, and no one ever even imagined some one would – the worst face. The North Face. Leaving behind us the entire range of dreams from collective subconscious of our kinds. Why are we here, and what god’s await us on the summit. It is a mystery for us to solve.

The morning seems to stop snowing and we think that its about time to get out and go down.

But that is not how we do it. We decide to go down and move up at the same time. The mountain has got the hold of us, and we need to make it up or out of this zone.

The toughest climbs are the ones which make your soul exit the body while being alive. This was one of them, perhaps it was the almighty’s will that I survived. My colleagues and brothers in arms were not so lucky.

The first one popped at the ice ridge leading to the tiny walkway which had to be traversed to summit. The ice ridge collapsing quickly beneath him left him no chance to recompose himself or his bearings. The end for him was as quick and painless as one could imagine. Already numb from the sub zero temperatures assaulting our bones and left over of skin, the steep fall and instant marauder would have been quite easy I imagined.

My other colleague and I still traversing up with the wind summoning up the devil from the dark corners of hell, We could be blown away in an instant – all death and no glory. My eyes were getting ice blindness way quicker than I have got. Then I saw the last horrific thing which I needed to see, a steep rising wave of snow in front of us – an avalanche from the depths of hell itself.

I cowered and hid as much as I could, so that my neck and bones don’t break. My other brother in arm was not so lucky. The avalanche swooped down and took him with the tide. Right down to the bottom of the karakoram range.

It was a morbid feeling for the time I could imagine, not much maybe in the way we all see time in times of indifference, but that was not the case that day – the storm, aching bones and withered morale – the death of ones near and dear in a land which is so far away from any sort of life if not human civilization. I felt as the loneliest man in the history of the world. It was not an easy feeling to reconcile, to move on further was destiny and fate and suicide certainly. There was nothing to lose anymore for the mountain had taken all those weapons which I had procured to counter her vast majesty and deathly grandeur.

The sherpas at base camp may have already left as we are over 3 weeks in excess of our intended date of arrival on ground. K2 was never as powerful as it was now. Myself vs. this grand majesty of ice cold hell. To perish here would be to give her and myself an easy exit plan. And what if I was to make it all the way down now, there was certain death without the help of another human for over 100 miles. I was dead this way or that. Only the choice how to die was mine.

I collected what I could from the dead comrades surroundings. Some rope and crampons and I carried forward. The hallowed top was there, staring and mocking me in some strange way and I was finding it impossible to go any further, and then few drops of blood from my nose onto the white bed of snow. I toppled over unconscious.

The next day or two (I really do not have any idea how many days and nights may have passed) was so blurry yet surreal that I cannot describe them better than what I have mentioned now. At night when I woke up or repeatedly woke up for days on end – I saw a vast array of lights on the horizon of the summit. With ice cold winds and fog enveloping me, I could not fathom how I was alive or was this some form of after life limbo. There was semblance of reality left but I could not understand whether this was how after life was supposed to be. The lights came upon and then retreated just as quickly. And I passed out, this happened couple of days in a row I believe and the snow kept me in some form of hibernation. There was no decay or frostbite. There was no movement of time except for when I saw these strange lights up high on the Himalayan skies, away from the sight of most of humanity on this earth, and then the last night which was perhaps the coldest night of them all, the lights opened up and they spoke to me. In a language or visualization only I could perhaps relate to.

This was 28,000 feet high up in the sky, the ladder just fell away and I was left to see what was reality. Heaven and all that jazz was a place in the sky. Where the gods met ancient man. Where they transmitted powerful life changing information through telepathy and power of touch.

This was quite something I must say to be spoken to a life long hard living atheist like myself. The lights changed colors and then they entered my third eye by focusing on it. This was profound and I was lifted like never before. I was made well and replenished without further need. I was made whole like Christ post his crucifixion.

These were giant beings which were from a planet at the end of the universe. Yes that was a long distance off, and yet they were here with the power of their intention and they reassured me that it was just as easy for any of us to do the same including climbing this mountain – and that’s exactly what they had seen through my third eye. ( I wonder what my fallen brethren had in their minds in their final moments)

It seemed too fishy to me, this kind of morbid philosophy – perhaps the chemicals in my head were giving way, and this was my final moment – to die some form of alien enthusiast on a desolate piece of rock in the highest point of earth away from any form of family or kinship and anyone to recognize my death. But my body was made good, my breathing made light and whole. And my senses were renewed – there was an internal fire in the making, which kept burning since. This was the warmth I was so longing for…

These beings did not speak about themselves, there was no ego involved, no sense of supremacy or hate. There was acceptance of who I was, and why I was there. I understood that they too were here for a very long time, looking at men trying to knock down their silent home. Shooting them down perhaps?

I could not understand but I felt the summit beneath my feet, the mighty K2 benign and now understanding that I was one of them, leaving me to be with her one first and final time. The beings showed the lights and then uplifted me to their mobile home, where they lived through me the ancient life of this ancient mountain. They had been here all the while. All the time. This was beautiful, the rise of these ancient mountains as home for this ancient race, where they hid shyly yet mingling with folks like me who had the intention for finding solace – like the feeling they so wished on our planet. Yes this was our planet and they had their own once upon a time, now desolate they come to our planet to live and be nostalgic about their loss.

Was this about me? No indeed it was not. It wasn’t about them either – it was and is only about the beautiful mountain K2. The mountain showing the path of the warrior to human and alien alike. The alien in a word dropped me to my base camp and in the next couple of days I wandered back to some form of civilization.

No one would ever believe my story, and hence I keep it to myself for I too at times find it impossible to believe. But none of it has gone beyond my perception or understanding. The knowledge, ancient sacred supple knowledge passed on about the nature of universe stayed amongst my grey cells for a very long time.

An experience amongst the loneliness of eternity. There is nothing here in store for the faint of heart. Only for the ones looking for the hardest up.





Peace and Joy


Sunday, November 15, 2015

The Astute Warrior


When all dharma has fallen, and the righteous has left this earth. Still we pray to Raja Ram and celebrate his home coming, to which ends of hypocrisy I wonder?

The blessed, meek and pious all look to the warrior king to come home – to lighten up their despair and enlighten their hearts. In deep devotion and humility, praying steadfast till the ends of the night – looking for his coming. Where is he? Lo, Ram has pointed his mighty bow and arrow at our hearts and is looking to annihilate us at the earliest.

Hence I ask again, Why have we strayed from our duty, why have we looked indifferent at this evil preying us within our hearts, We have not saved our mortal brothers and hence forgotten even our real selves. I feel none of us will ever get to see the real Ram in our lives. And it is all our fault. Its all our cowardice which has resulted in this situation

Indeed, none of us even care for the true Ram. The name which once upon a time perhaps evoked true love and the spirit of servitude. The image of the true warrior – standing tall for what is right, what is love. This is true godhood. This is true love. Where did it all go wrong?

I used to wonder – what this mortal has done to be elevated to the status of a God. What made him a god till the day I started calling out his name inadvertently and without asking anything in return. Soon it all made sense, in my heart. Ram is all there is and was. The perfect Son, husband, brother and king. The man amongst so many so called men. The devotee of Shiva  amongst so many Devotees. The archer par excellence.

The archer par excellence – that’s it. That’s what sticks. The aspect of man which tunes in, drops out and achieves his end. His own salvation. The very name of this Man-God gives me the Goosebumps

Oh Ram, where have you left us now. You were supposed to lead the promised land, you were supposed to be our messiah.  You were the one who was going to redeem us? What happened to us, that you left us in this lurch of facing ourselves by ourselves?

The warrior in me preys to the warrior in you; so you may forgive and guide. In your name I find long lost solace. Something which I have grown accustomed to living without. Perhaps you have forgotten to care for us; but we will not forget to pray to you. And as our sins of ignorance fall to the ground like leaves from a tree in autumn glory. We shall return to you. In love and grace.

He stands still aiming his arrow high, towards the Sun. Praying to his creator and releasing the arrow – so that it reaches its target. Annihilation of many selves in turn for None.

Peace & Happy Diwali 2015



Saturday, October 3, 2015

In a Hurry


We must analyze ourselves for the betterment of our kind. The way we have been built to operate; believe you me – the most complex computing system in the universe does not come with any operating manual and even if it did – it is stored in the unconscious cloud storage of humanity. Making it very difficult to retrieve. The entire process of meditation helps resolve the barriers present in the present moment. It makes the effort pay off, for when you gaze the direction inside and simply passively observe – it makes the unconscious come to the fore, the pain and fear, the greed and lust. All of it comes and poof, like a bubble bursting – these vices and attributes of the lower self all disappear. The operating manual comes and keeps the mind aside.

It is of course simple to speak and write while difficult to undergo such catharsis. Why should one, isn’t ignorance bliss? And many of us would agree to remain in such ignorance and normally I would agree, if it were not for the changing course of all things in nature with time. This deep bounding illusion is what makes us vie for enlightenment / nirvana or emancipation within this life. If I look at it with both my eyes closed – I could make sense of such an effort or experience and why the selves of ours required to undergo such movement.


I also see deepening beauty, indescribable and subtly sublime. This is impossible and possibly foolish to try to pen down about life. Life is irreplaceable as an experience and most of us try to end it in a hurry without experiencing it for what we have intended to be born for. Yes it is right, we have taken the choice for taking upon this life and live it to the rights of dharma (not to the fullest – that is succumbing to vice)

In a hurry and what will come out of it? I do not know, there is nothing which you and I are not, and still running helter skelter to make everything our own. This foolish naivety, and arrogant attitude to make everything our own without giving our notions of our selves away (giving up to getting) will cost us, this ignorant hurry for burning the midnight oil of our remaining timelines, it will only end in us dying and lying in back to back graves.

Leaving without even finding out why you were expected, is the saddest of all joys of this creation. What takes for you to know who you are all, of all instances and moods. There it lies, your former self now yourself and then the future self, why such a hurry to settle your dust, it is in the making – becoming unknown making it alive

So leave the concern and need, for anything you thought was important to finish up your joy. Savor and live it slowly and in silence. I trust telling that is the all natural way to heavenly abodes.

Show your love and compassion to each other, live it simple and lovingly. There is no hurry to finish up what perhaps may never come alive.


Peace and Joy

Friday, October 2, 2015

The War of Gods


Doesn’t your religions seem to conflict so many times over, in itself with so many myths and contradictory truths being told. Comparing it to the truth of other religions and prophets – does it not seem that there was a war between the various gods of our world?

What if there were many benevolent kinds present here in this world over time, all of them bringing their truths to this world and imparting it to the tribes they made? The tribes in their reflection – projecting the various creeds of this human world. The creeds now morphed with twisted truths which these aliens brought – maybe illusions or maybe imagination – Gods and their likings and their wars – now a central theme of our world. Which we use to have our own mini wars and extinctions. The human world has been ruled by various gods from various planets of this universe, and all of them bringing out their dark nature and versions of enlightenment to us. What a show~


This is why so many of our gods praise compassion and love, while others beg for blood and war for satisfaction. Some come and say they shall come again to this planet, and many who have never left this planet after their first visitation.

The gods who will come to our rescue and those who will instigate greater wars here to get what they want. Is this all not madness? And we as a collective species following all these contradictory truths without even questioning what the fuck was going on in the first place. Stories in which gods rape human women and where they have technologically advanced weapons which bag their sport – death of humans and others alike, and at the same time these species of gods puking out spiritual insights; as if it was our and their birthright. To be evolved and enlightened. Away from the flora and fauna of this natural world (earth).

I do not know what the fuck is going on and what will happen to my world after my death; maybe we all do move to the world of spirits and ancestors – where gods rule forever – planets where situations favoring lasting of time is more than here and then maybe we return back to this ground in a new form – where we play and die once again praising our gods, waiting upon them to come and save us whilst in human form. I could never be sure of this primitive yet distinctive mythos of our times. And there have been so many; coming pouring forth from the skies, from under the ground and from within our spine. There seems to be no end to the wars which the gods have waged upon their selves and our ancestors. (The war still continues both intrinsically and extrinsically in our time)


Creation of Man through DNA labs being made on this planet till date (in the womb) and replicate the image of gods – who will rule this planet and fight it with the other alien image humans for supremacy on the planet – does it sound fair? Without needing to fight on their own planets – they devised their own method to feed their ego supremacy. Why not create a world and populate it with their drone genes and then see who can fight it out to win. Maybe it’s the Caucasian gene which rules the roost nowadays and in the past it was the tribal Persian genes. Who knows – once upon a while it was the mongloid and maybe even the African negroid gene which created the supreme gene in the beginning of time. Maybe supremacy is a function of a sinusoidal time wave. And so it goes on – the gods which thirst on strife so that peace may be evident – the gods which spread ignorance so that knowledge and enlightenment can become apparent.

Who is to say the gods are really at war with each other as well, maybe a function of their age/supremacy or their true natures – as functions of dark energy now made into consciousness – which need to see the darkness first and the light last.

But this I feel apparent that the creation and sustenance myths of all religions conflicting brutal and barbaric at times are all their as pure information showing us what happened during the past in this cycle of linear time. I feel that these often contradictory truths of various religions and spiritual paths are rather complementary and we are at the center of the whole show, as if the gods themselves take birth here in the form of a video game and fight it out with each other (the reason we all fight it out with each other all the time) as if we are all trying fighting for supremacy of our true tribe.

And I do want to add, that the aliens though created pure gene races – which have now become totally mixed with interbreeding and mixing have now created new species of alien humanoid; the kinds which are still forming their own tribes and their like minded groups and fighting it out with each other for supremacy of one kind or the other.

Something you may wish to think about. Om Nama Civaya

Peace and Joy


Saturday, September 5, 2015

Momentary Enlightenment


One of those realizations which is incomplete without full attention being drawn to it.

Why are we here, and what is the nature of life (and the experience of it). These questions gnaw at me day and night. There is no escape, for there is no answer which can satisfy these existential questions.

Then something struck me in the shower; a bolt of subtle soul lightening and all the other jazz. It was a momentary experience of answers unparalleled. The experience is venerated as its bound; there is no limit to infinity. There is no end to endlessness. In such situation without another – how can one be understanding the bliss of one’s own self. Perhaps this was the conundrum, not that it was not possible to experience oneself when one is everything – omniscient. But it was too easy. There needed to be forgetfulness existential; perennially; forever. And once the self was trapped in the mortal coil – it would need to experience momentary enlightenment, spanning across the warp of time and space. Of body and its illusions manifest.

Maya the great power of dark energy – continues to unfold its tentacles – protected by the power of illusion – dimensions which keep the self bound. Maker of its own demise.

Once the moment passed – the enlightenment of soul felt through true emotions (manifest energy) would let the self realize what all was possible, what all was its own self. This illusion of enlightenment as true as it is (for it is the nature of one self) is why we have taken birth; to understand at each level feeling of enlightenment and then it too shall pass. At some level all human moments with intensity and propensity of consciousness existing are moments of enlightenment.

Why is enlightenment not felt without absence of itself? (The dream sans the abstract logic to make sense of nonsense). It is a question which perhaps only each of us can answer. Can we appreciate darkness without light, or happiness without grief? What about satisfaction without soul crushing loneliness?

These are questions which make sense in terms of momentary enlightenment. Only the moment speaks truth. It speaks bare and raw – in your face. It lasts not long and it merges back into dark energy, the collective power of self.

This is paramount, even enlightenment is temporary without respect to dimension of time. One becomes oneself in the absence of moments, and then merges to the collected while at the same time breaking back into the individuations which start the cycle of delusions under the apt care of Maya

I like the concept of momentary enlightenment. Even nirvana is not worth it, if it was permanent. Possibly one of my strongest viewpoints – to enjoy the illusion as much as being naked in silence. Enjoying non being and being under constraints.

Peace and Joy


Sunday, August 9, 2015

Eat Thyself

There is fun in this. You are what you excrete.

For a long time – I could not understand why people in Vedic era and perhaps before worshipped all the excreta of cows. Well you can worship the milk and its subsequent products like butter cheese and curd. You can also worship the urine (for I understand urine may contain some drained of vitamins which the cow excreted, or even in some preposterous connotations like the tribes of Alaska – maybe the urine contains amanita muscaria mushroom whose potency leaves unhindered when it passes through the system, and maybe cows which consume them – send them out and folks could consume it as the purest psychedelic around).

But then why worship the feces (yes the rituals of Vedic proportions require one to be comfortable of the feces of the cow) Is this not mad/ I wondered, for feces contains many harmful micro organizms which could harm the living being consuming it.

But I wondered – this ritual and respect for the feces of animals around was truly wise. It is because of the feces that plants can find adequate life support to grow rapidly and to complete proportions – the same plant which our ancients harvested and indeed even now we do to create our food source. This means that we are in turn part feces of others, which gives life to us. This is of course broad minded assumptions and in a broad minded sense absolutely correct.

So eat thyself complete and satisfied – for the more you do that, you shall shit. Which will help the ecosystem around feed you better, more satiated than before. Indeed a funny and of course an uncomfortable thought to consider while eating (and perhaps not while shitting).

Some food for thought indeed!

Peace and Joy!

Friday, July 17, 2015

Journeyman - Thirudeva


The finest hour is at hand, sweet lord. Redemption is undone. Work until the end, and I have been saved by the graciousness and mercy of lord Siva.

Robots congregated together, to fulfill the desires they had made of themselves. Yet Thirudeva has made his match with his Eshwara. There seems to be little joy for this fact.

Who will come unto you sweet lord; mercy and compassion thy names. They seem to think that you are stark raving mad. And indeed I am mad indeed for none other than you.


These are words which have no resolve in the hearts of people who little but themselves. We who defiled the lord’s sweet will – which is of course our very own. To think that he brings bad luck and ill boon. The lord of destruction dances swiftly the night away.

Where are you running to oh fool, speaking to myself. There is no way out of purgatory for souls like us, bathed in grey matter energy of the universe. Only he who dances in the wake of night can save us from our plight. Indeed saying Namacivaya.

Thirudeva looks so soulful and open. Yet mysterious and a delight. There was no way that people like myself were going to let him go from our hands or hearts. We would need the remedy too – and this is of course the general nature of plight.

He looks so resplendent under all conditions, lighting powerful lights to his shadow strong. We long to see him open his eyes and (bless) be a part of us.


This is nature of love for Ishwara, that who breaks the condition of woe. Who is a rolling force, with the name all misery undoes and becomes one with this creation. We all have to become like Thirudeva. That who is respectfully God.

Yet we go on screeching, what can Siva hail to give us. That silent yogi – who breaks his attention not for anything or anyone other than his divine lover Parvati. How can we be of any profit with a God without a reason or rhyme.

Yet he pulls us to his feet, and showing his grace on the dying bed – many of us cannot welcome instead. We fail and fail whimper and wail. There seems to be no end to how Siva prevails. We cannot be a master to his plans ever. Till we meet him and he touches us and takes us to never never land. He comes for the gentle and loved, He comes in fury for those who were of ignorance and anger. He comes still for the sad and hopeless. Yet he comes and takes all.

He is a kind god, one which we must encounter when we die and pass on to the pearly gates, as luck would have explain it – he sees devotion to Yoga and Oneness as the category for a kind admission.

Many of us approached Thirudeva to open our own mandira for happiness, not oneness or purity. That which Eshwara would love. We became destitute and started asking God for which does not matter. And which does – makes you wonder why anything matters. This is the power of the Jata covered god of ashes and death. lord an master of the human race.

Siva sits under darkness – opening his third eye and ending the play. This is nature of consciousness descending upon itself to the power level. When it restarts – reducing everything back to dream 0.

And we look at Thirudeva not as our source of Escape to redemption, as I said earlier – redemption is undone.

Many days pass in silence and he is not succumbed to temptation – indeed the master has learnt like the banyan to stick its roots way down under the ground and above as a plan B. He has escaped into divine union with his silent and loving master and one – Lord NamaCivaya

Meditating on the South Facing Silent Mauni Master – Dakshinamurthy, I become ripe and fall in love with the mystic master Babaji Thirudeva, who is under rapt attention of his Shakti. Who has become whole and realized leaving the body while changing nothing is the way. I become unto them for that moment atleast.

There is great play here, with the thirst to the silent master Lord Shiva increasing. Becoming manifold. There seems that levels of consciousness that only Thirudeva can fathom. Merging into his deity, Thirudeva has made his life whole. Complete and none.


Master, facing the eastern sun, I look and pray to the face of all creation. The shiva Linga – hidden in plain sight is your manifestation of delight and how I wish to merge me into thee.. Only you can save the soul that is me. That is meant as an offering of love to you. This lifetime and so many more. Saying this, Thirudeva like you and I, in this lifetime or maybe another merged his personal energy into his saharara chakra. And as the energy exploded and blood flowed from his nose. He slumped over and with a benign feeling. Set everyone who looked at this frame through heart and eyes – absolutely free!


Peace and Joy

Saturday, July 4, 2015

Makers Sport


Tripartite agreement :

The father, son and holy ghost are sitting in a room and hatch a plan to make the illusion a success. They are collectively Godhood and all that is present.

The Creator / Sustainer / Destroyer have shown the path under divine grace of themselves to make and break this illusion. They are the three sacred jewels of this logos.

The left and right eye look and ponder and then the third eye manifests and removes all the illusion. Could this be the field / field knower and the Known? Could this be the conspiracy theory of master proportions?

This is the path in which the trinity make the dual.

Duality circles :

The holy three create the illusory two. The two battle it out day and night. Sun and Star, ida and pingala and male and female. They are looking facing each other and then they absorb.

This is holy play which we must play, and then pay for. We are one and not both, We are not together in the holy holocaust. The one which breaks into one.

The Aham :

The two collectively produce the one. In gene and form. The one is self / Aham and I. That which defines this illusion through frame of reference. The ones of the two procreate another one of their kind. This is the magic play of One which sustains this grand play.

The Expansion to Enlightenment :

This is makers sport, the one now searches within and without – and abandoning thought now becomes none. The true mastery of evolution indeed. This is enlightenment of soul; and in this beautiful vista – it indeed creates back the illusion triggered by the holy trinity. That ones which come to form from this void.

This maker’s sport seems so futile. Yet it is what this universe justifies. You and I and the holy ghost. Looking for our long lost home. Wandering Wandering through the night sky.

Peace and Joy


Saturday, June 27, 2015

False Remuneration


What have they paid you this time sire? A shilling or your weight in gold. To buy your jaded soul. They may have got that for free perhaps.

Indeed now you must be feeling happy – I cannot deny, neither may you; yet look carefully and realize that you have made the pact with the devil (of men and principles)

Why cast down what you have been given – the chance to bake your bread in the warm shining sun (glittering more of gold in your head than in the blue sky). The poise and choir you praise and sing is so superficial and indeed satisfies / satiates you cause you too are so hollow like the content and weight of what you have been remunerated with.

Do you feel I judge thee wrong, and indeed in the wrong light – then I may cut of my tongue and burn it in this instant. For which man sells his worth in a commodity worth nothing but in the mind and that too dictated through the deceit of others in time.

Indeed would you slave and work your while away – for accreditation from another? For the natural resource now molded as a twisted rendition mimicking your worth through the dead face on the coin?

The coin is your worth; it may be what defines you – it may be what becomes your fall. It may be what makes you who you are worth. This is wrong is it not?

Who am I to say what's right and wrong. Subjective and impersonal, and without rhyme or reason at all. Look to your personal call – which has the value of your valued soul written on it.

The remuneration now so sweet stings like the bee (at the end of your mortal life), where all you worked for was your betterment and that never came through; how much ever you wished hoped and bought for. Remuneration is self evident, and does not have to be worked for through your bank balance at least. It needs your struggle with a smile, your hope through a trying tear and your faith through desperate times. This is what makes your worth go up and never falter. This is what makes you who you really are intended to be.

I am telling what all of us know anyway. This is not a new ball game, to not go extinct we must make use of all what we have. Consume it and stick this plan. Cause of course you see everywhere around you – inside you, that we are happy with the money deposited in our accounts at the end and beginning of endless months. Yet this too is going to cost us beyond what we can see.

Peace and Joy

Sunday, June 14, 2015

Enquire silent Erase Complete


The silent enquiry since antiquity, remaining resolute and sincere in the approach to conducting oneself through life. Nothing interesting and yet acting as if everything was a fucking surprise. This in its naivety is bloody difficult to pull off. You would appreciate what  I am speaking about.

Enquiry is must, there is nothing which we must take for granted, nothing at all. Yes of course we are all defined – and that is cause we have eaten the apple and then shat the remains. We could not digest the beautiful truth, much less fathom the creators design for ourselves. Indeed enquiry is a must then.

Since the time I grew up, I could notice changes in the impermanent consciousness of mine, tempered with bouts of bipolar depression and tendencies to see everything in detail, nothing so odd as long as one is in tune with their mind and heart – I could see the plot was incomplete – the puzzle had parts missing. Of course its true for all of us; yet the puzzle is a little more complete for some than many. It makes sense and indeed people need to make less sense of it all in some lives than many others. It was thankfully not the case with me. Puberty hit me and my mind reeled within for purpose and place, life and its of course subtle meaning. There was none of course yet the process of enquiry was indeed required. Indeed needed.

I spent time myself – reading and contemplating on truths and lies. If there were such boundaries to the mythical tales that all our lives are. Indeed time is a myth and its impermanence is felt only in our impermanent mind. What a concept, and then one day when we turn to dust, Its all fine again.

I sat and laughed at myself, many a time at what I was supposed to be; to myself and the society (sick indeed) which I was born within. There seemed to be a sadistic tendency within the cells which harbored the thought of me – to annihilate themselves and in the worst possible manner. Without leaving a trace behind; and yet here I was like so many of you. Fit and fine, without a trace of ever conducting a crime (indeed a crime).

Yet the more I enquired in silence, I believed truly that life itself was a preposterous crime and complete thorough erasure was the need of the hour. Yes indeed, I must admit – till date for me emancipation is complete erasure of the self, and this is of course I blog here; to destroy the ego self. The false lower feeding self. Which feeds unto itself and others as well. Which believes it knows what it is upto and indeed in a dark void – thinks that it is the false light.

Not that through my enquiry I have found fault with the illusion of light and dark, or even ignorance and enlightenment. I deeply hold all these connotations true and the search for self identity, loss of ego identity and the merging into god hood are all fascinating to me since the moment I have felt them to be a concept of the overmind.

Indeed the overmind – the universal consciousness playing itself in tune of light and dark has played such an integral role for itself – for all those who evolve (all of us indeed) through the illusion of space time / light dark to notice that the ego has been deeming us all untrue. This enquiry so precious and a part of all our lives indeed is to be cherished – this process to make all of this true in our fabric of recording life and then annihilating it to make it complete.

Why Don’t I see the picture till date? it is sometimes difficult I must admit, as the process makes one very tired at times not to mention morbid. to see life in all its shades and then discard it in silent enquiry for the purpose of erasure is no easy feat. yes of course all of us would know, and how. cause we feed ourselves to make us remember the false selves every moment even more, through actions and words, through thoughts and energy – through life and death we are obsessed with feeding the self everything other than nothing. Indeed enquiry for the purpose of erasure is no easy feat.

And yet we must all indulge, for there is no purpose of life other than setting the head aside so the heart may beat. Enquiry through time has made me quieter, firmer and resolute to erase any and all footprints / thumbprints of my so called self identity of this and any other life, this would of course mean to remove all attachments, illusions of attachments and so forth to get the good deed done and done right this time!

Please see the power of self – enquiry and self – erasure. there is no need for yourself to be in this web of illusion anymore (no pun on this illusory time). look and behold – be bewildered’'

be no more. anymore….


Peace and Joy

Sunday, June 7, 2015

Something Like Money

Life is sometimes funny and we are the ones who enjoy playing a pointless joke on ourselves.

So we all are running to secure currency, so that we may trade it for more. Resources of course.

It started with trade and commerce, where we dug our souls to make something for someone - but of course not with love but with the intention of getting something grander in return. This was birth of the seed of greed.
Yes it is logical, that we need resources to survive - and instead of remaining where we were - hunting like fools for a deer everyday - why not kill as many and cultivate as much; produce to consume. Consume like never before.

Hence we proposed over time - something of value - which could be traded - like a gold or silver coin. Perhaps something standard with the seal of something more. The face of the paid assasin under whose rule you could trade became the norm and the great coins of more came pouring unto our hands, albeit a bit blood stained.

Money became what it is, with the interest and intention of the many. To get something more for themselves than they could afford. Yes they were willing to work for it, but not all kinds of work. Work which was soul feeding was left to the dogs and that which fed to the dogs took up our prime responsibility.

Love is a trading item, it is gonna redeem us all. There is no other way it will be. Trade your love and gain your personal success, i.e money. Its something like money but you can manipulate it - use it and get more. This is what our world teaches us, that love is impermanent and of course money is not. SO let us now vouch for what fills our wallets and no more our souls or stomachs.

This is not just the case with money but with all tangible facets of existence as we know it. We do not have a clue on how to tackle it, the impermanence of life itself and to deal with it as a trader, what could be worse!
If the situation demands it, and you accept it, the pain of this world will leave. If you are receptive and look for something other than money to fill yourself with, then you may as well be remembered through time.

And of course not to forget, money in whatever form by itself holds no intrinsic value - it is the culmination of resources, attention and intention from all of us, which creates this morphed illusion which we take for truth.
I just look at how money must have gained importance in the world. And it may not have been a pretty picture at first - to convince the masses that this is important and this is what you must toil your endless days and nights for. How could such a master elaborate white lie be propagated?

Of course by implementing a lifestyle around waste and indulgence, in Sanskrit pre vedic terms - a Tamasic / Rajasic life, where we do not find any intrinsic value or purpose to do something which we abhor and yet do it - so it may satisfy some so called created urge of ours. Perhaps to be materially superior (whatever that may mean), to be in the limelight or feel worthy of ourselves (through the validation of others). What neurosis has been webbed into our minds - which refuses to die.

What we do need, is energy - to sustain the body. What we do need is peace of mind - to still the mind so that the spirit finally is able to sustain, and love - which is indeed the food of the soul. This is what we are born to acquire (which is present within ourselves). Yet a lifetime and many spent in abject disdain, torrentous ignorance. What is to become of our species and time, I do wonder with the likes of something like money taking over our minds (and perennially!)

Its not that I have something against capitalistic tendencies, god knows that I have been a part and parcel born into it as much as I remember, and I also get how important it is to play along lest you are ready to be martyred. But the sheer magnitude of its stupidity does get through to me at times, as it does to each and every single person whoever they may be or have (in terms of money).

I am against capitalistic tendencies leading to nihilistic tendencies too soon, not that I do not respect the latter and somehow in the catacombs of my complicated heart - I do see that the universe is intrinsically nihilistic - yet to achieve this state with the false purposes of ours (to make money / or get maximum for oneself at the cost of another - sometime just to spite the other) seems preposterous. It seems not the action of an intelligent soulful spirits.

We all must relook what we are earning for (without lying to ourselves), and do we really need so much as we state. We are all in abject poverty - and indeed it is not of the body anymore. It is what we have spent so many eons neglecting with pride.
The soul shouts, cries and seeks you to break free from the web which is the illusion which we think is creating security and self sustainance. Yet it is darker than this - this conspiracy, to keep us hooked to a job, to trade to get what we need to have without understanding what we are and we actually need to head to.

It could be just the worst disaster in the course of this world and our kind, to make money our god and make our god dead yet never burying it in peace and mourning for it even when we have all that we need or would require.

Peace and Spend well

Wednesday, June 3, 2015

Structure and Time

Time remains both a boon and bane. We are constantly running out of it in this day and age. Yet when we have enough and more of it - we get scared; running from pillar to post to spend it. With anything and anyone, we run away from time till the point time runs away from us.

At the end of our lives, we keep wondering - where did it all go, though it was one hell of a ride yet we wonder deeply, why did we not spend it the right way, on things and people which/who mattered to us.

Let me put another twist, time is energy and is fluid in nature. We cannot bottle it up per say, yet we can maximize time. We can utilize time for what it is made to serve. An experience, movement and realization from the perennial illusory nature of self (created by of course the self)
Yet this time remains also power as it can be pooled together. As in I can pay for ten people's time and then achieve what I want from the efforts they put in as per my demand. Isn't that how everything around here in the history of time has every worked?

Every single living organism uses time to put in effort to survive, in some intelligent forms - post survival - they use time for self introspection - leading to freedom from time itself. From the fluid energy dynamics which keep us mesmerized to this bound illusion.

So we have formed governments and organizations and social circles and so forth - so that we can use time as it was intended to be used. With the introspection, dare I say - meditation to break free from the illusion of time bound.
Yet these mechanisms which we have created are the ones which bind us even more to time itself - for these institutions and people who may run them - may indeed use the time of folks like us for their selfish interest. This is a big "may" - yet the more I see, the more I realize its true, my time being constant is being used by someone for a goal which I may or may not require. Yes indeed the purpose of free will dictates what I may use my time for. Yet the structure of everything my mind has created has fallen unto itself. It has broken its own frame and damages what was created to make the self enjoy time - to break illusion across time and relive timeless eternal bliss.

When we have done what ever we thought was best to use with time, is when we realize that we may have never used it to the potential it was built to create and satisfy; yet for many of us, we do not want/wish to break free from time. It satisfies us in a morbid sense. We feel it great/grand to have lived a petty experience, not what the glory of self was made to sustain. Its original design.

Make use of time the best we can, is the best intention and will directed towards the workings of this beautiful vast and mysterious universe. To waste time or to utilize it on a false structure is to waste veritably beautiful energy on something which need not have been created in the first place.

Peacce and Jou

Saturday, May 30, 2015

Asylum Blues

Light enters not, growls exit not, there is an eery emancipation midst all this commotion. And that is all in my head, oh yes yours to. For we are all stuck here; in the pit. The end of the world if it could be said. There is only dark demise written all across the walls that enslave us.

The asylum has a particular smell, and I cannot describe it even if I tried - there is the remorse which always adds to these sensory illusions. All of our remorse, that why it had to go down like this. Without a single warning to retreat.

Another one is brought in, the blanket black straitcoat. He hasn't done anything we are all sure, or are we expecting him to join our silent tortured ranks? We cannot be sure. But we welcome him to this world of ours nonetheless, with a temporary broken smile pasted on our faces - we explain the scene around.

This is not plain fiction - it is clear sight. I wonder on dark dreamy nights locked in my cell (of body and mind), where I shall escape to next - to forgive and possibly forget this lasting pain.

Suffering which is not reckoned, has not been seen clearly, the asylum always gives you time to recuperate, to think and be towards everything as you clearly choose. But what if one is not interested, one is majestic in his or her own lunatic right. Then perhaps the asylum would seem as home.

I have habituated myself to walking alone, for it breaks the illusion at times. The monotonous corridors bringing pain and grief to all, The dingy claims of the guards who believe its their god given duty to protect us, from ourselves. I cannot stand this. Yet there is nothing the asylum ever forgets. The suffering of our inferior selves - this need never exist.

Walking alone, I wonder my friends - are you too all not walking alone. With the illusion of someone loving you - caring and protecting you? have you forgotten the vast nothing you are into. Every second of your so called conscious lives? This is nothing but institution - much like this asylum which you have got convinced to get used to, to love even. As some here may love this god damned asylum itself. Is this not the sure sign of lunacy?
Oh Have I got ahead of myself, have you not understood; this dark abyss that you and I are a part of till we breathe our last, this entirety so unsure yet never lacking to manifest and interrupt your plans and mine. And then the fact that you are tied to yourselves for your lives and you seem to get used to that as well - without an inkling of needing change - instead we all love abhorring any change to our perfect fucking peeving selves.

Yes, I am convinced, and you may call me mad (why not, I too may indeed respond in kind), the inability for us to actually take the joke which so many wicked have propounded - to give us the kind mercy of forgetting who we are and why we have taken a supposed conscious birth - reason if any? None then acceptance and joy. Why not we revel in the true nature that is I.

Yet we love our time by ourselves, walking alone - with the illusion of life unfolding in front of us and we having some form of explanation for all the things which are. We are blind and indeed mad  - yes you I and cosmos. It is time, about time that we all come unshackled. Breaking into a violent frenzy of a dance. Dissolving this Now.

We may or then, we may choose to continue to soothe ourselves - we arent fools afterall, we may indeed at the back of our head know - that the world inside the comfort of walls called an asylum is still far better than the sheer power of dark energy manifesting and dissolving itself without caring one single bit.


Sunday, May 24, 2015

A Sigh Repeated

Times were olden, in the small hill station of dharamshala. The twilight hours throwing all spectrum of colors into the sky. Everyone saw the glory of Sun.

Near the bus stop, the chai shop - with all its knick knack. Everyone used to come and gather to share the latest gossip of the hill. Yet never a dull moment. Laughter and occasional brawls. This seemed to be life to myself on first look.

The times are still olden; they remain so. There is a new governer in town, with a nepalese descent, he seemed to be nowehre menacing, yet something gives me a bad feel about this. What is it that he wants,
My whole family is clustered into a thin shack of house. Discussing the day's politics... We the people have elected this man into power. (What kind of Power? That no one can define) We are on our way to total freedom. (What kind of freedom?)

Does anybody think.. At all? In this state of things, how are they affecting each and every one of us.

Two years down, the chai shop has deserted. A rustic piece of art, now no one dares congregate their.. to discuss and gossip. The new governer has changed things for the better, everyone is now totally fucking afraid.

I dont really know how this all happened, how things transmigrate into other things over time and then in retrospect no one remembers how things were supposed to be originally. This great forgetting is what leads humanity to our repetitive times.

The damned government implementing these anti people policies, and the olden town of dharamshala is turned into a political hotspot (What the hell does that mean ?)
Well that means loads of jobless people started coming into town, they didnt bother to stop at the bus stop to revive any chai wala. They came to impose the governer's clout - his unfounded and unrestricted power over the common people. The nature of things - they must transmigrate into another - before they become frightening and imposing. Before things become so vain that everyone can see through the lies.

These vagabonds chased and harassed our women, they drank and opened liquor outlets. They beat up men for no reason and tore through their houses in search for their possessions.
This was the world and not dharamshala. This was the town which I had seen through my own eyes, untouched; unscathed by the world's taint.
This was dharamshala - ruthless and miniscule in thought. The people now drone to the governer's whims and fancies gave him the respect only a despot shall favor. There seemed to be no more love and harmony. The governer and his faceless drones wiped humanity from the hearts of each and every man.

What is wrong with the king; you may ask. You may also not believe my innocent words. I would but tell you what I felt. The common man became common - he also became a pawn in the eyes of the man holding the knife. The gun and grenade. The lifeline of a future race. There was no aristocracy before the advent of human divinity. We could only fathom the beautiful sunrises and sunsets on the horizon keeping us thirsty for more, yet with the advent of human power came the understanding that we were done.

I left dharamshala a couple of years back. All my friends and their families already moved out - we were the only surviving original inhabitants. We moved to the plains and life was never the same.
The government ruled for the longest time - by inviting their kind - they raped our kind. And they made us dependent on them, ruled by fear and blame. Greed and game, there seemed nothing to be sacred.

The governor was assassinated soon by the kind he raised. What else is new in such cases ever.
We all live in a world quite like the likes of dharamshala, where innocence once reigned - and now lays in despair. Nothing like a sigh repeated, many time perhaps to see innocent lost in so many ways.

when I found out they have demolished the bus stop historically placed in the beginning of the village of dharamshala. No more the old rustic chai everyday to soothe the soul. There seems no more serenity left anymore.  None in my horizon for sure. Another sigh left my soul.

Now another one bites to score - yes another hillstation and town ruined and left for dead. There is no where left to run with humanities scourge with its need to ruin what was once perfect.

Peace and Joy

Future Version Besides

How can genes be modified? Seems to be a question racing through my head - as I go ahead to meet this gentleman, seeming to know what he is talking about, I wonder now..

Take my original genes. Now plant them in the green field of many acres. Where there is space and growth possible. The genes shall fodder bodies and perhaps souls... 

Don't feel surprised, we are all the products of our ancestors. Well that was the story some 2250 years back. Now there is no gene purity left anymore. There is nothing which makes us look or behave like human beings, dont you care to agree?
The other man looked to the faceless creature, nodded and took his genes, in a pool of greed and wrath. The pure genes shall manifest shortly. As the new Adam generation XPO13095. 

The earth has become a pyramid of souls dying and evaporating to nowhere, with human generations now reside underground. There is a new race living above earth. Who knows if they human or mutants, alien or parasite? Nothing seems to make sense in the oblivion that is the core of mother earth. We are couped up to die, fighting to get out of the hole yet never able to succeed. We are

The genes have become men and women. Gained breath and life. Seeming to get consciousness and dulled instantly by the conditioning that is our history and future life. 

Time over evolution sets the reset button and we fail to notice. Yes we sit and shack up till our graves come to us, Eating merry and behaving like assholes without care. The genes become modified, changing form and information - with new series of races coming as quick as your version change of operating softwares - there is no more mating required. There is but one thing badly required - The original human gene. Without modification or tampering. With the right sequence of DNA/RNA and other lipids.

Did I forget to mention, we lost the original race. That was a hell of a time, where governments of world started modifying their armies - their populations - to create the next stronger man, woman. Smart sensitive, loving what not. Then it went amiss. Wars broke out. Destruction ensued. Yes the story has been repeated many times, but not at this extent. They blew up the world. Don't know us or the new kinds of humans living on the rock. Nothing makes sense. This seems to be hell and life ain't life anymore.
No versions have made the population breed normal humans. There is nothing left except mutants, and not like the X Men kinds. These are the addicted narrow petty minded remainants of past perfection. Some say that this has been predicted. That the nature of man will undergo such rampant change, that it would no longer be human. Perhaps humans were never human in the first place.

Don't you feel that way sometime, when you know that you are wrong - and won't admit that this is going the wrong way? Maybe we all do not want to admit that our lives, or whatever we call this time period of temporary consciousness striking through... that we don't know the shit of what is happening around us,
We are not inspired, pure, naive bathing in light. We have become the remain ants of our former selves. Of the righteous humans that we were intended to be. Indeed quite a genetic modification - from the powers that rule one over the other, Enslaving oneself indeed through a unique new kind of torture everytime.

So I take this gentleman's word for it, and take his genes and grow it one last time. What came forth - even I feel dreaded to describe.

Peace and Watch Out!

Emancipation Await.ed.

Awaiting your arrival, Sire. Where are you roaming about. Is there a point to your existence. There seems none so kind to arrive at the scene of this crime unfolding. Sitting inside your computer mind, you are unwired. No feelings expected. Emancipation can take the back seat.

Look another one just like us, we are so happy that we can create life. Yet what creates us can never be known/seen/felt? as it is never near. It seems to avoid us in plain sight. We are looking for the killing, to kill life. To celebrate from birth and never ending life? (Is that what we believe?)

So Sire you are awaited, once and only once and for all. The oppertunity is sinking as we are singing in the mud. There is never a moment which has not been grand. Why are you looking forward to your life?

Sitting sipping tea, along stuck in a quagmire, many a mind gone to the abyss and never back or beyond. Look forth from your puny mind and mine. Let us see, shall we?
Stars form and merge and disassociate into the pure darkness, which I feel I should not look at yet mesmerizes us all so much.
Then when we see what we are finally making of it.
You and I are not so different, to look at it in depth. We are one and here and ignorant of the facts.
Where we are is not us, Not who what we ought to be.

Emancipation take our unkind hands, hold em dear, lift em up high and let us leave here. Now. The escapist nature of soul for there is never anywhere else to exist, to be when in pure darkness, without division.
In the illusion of division, let us exist not just in our minds, or obsessive compulsive existence which we love. It loves us not, It hunts us and makes us settle to our grave. The grave has already been dug. When and how we enter in this greater plan is upto us, and only us. As one and many.
Emancipation - look into our eyes, we are innocent like how we have been created so many times over. We are the soul, which you need to rescure in this beautiful drama ever unfolding without space and time.

Rescue and set us free, from the mundane existence enveloping to create more copies of ourselves without passing the beauty of genetic modifications, that we could never change ourselves and just ended creating us in a younger form? What good is that. There must be love, must be justification of change in seasons. Without this what is the use of taking birth and even dreaming about emancipation?

Justify now to yourself why we are existing, put a price tag or viable dream attached to it, Yes Sire, you have arrived. Finally you have made it to the stairway to hell (Was it not supposed to be heaven?)
Indeed the fine china has been consumed and thrown into the pits of hell, all what is left for ignorant assholes like you and I is the damnation of eternity. Subtle surreal and without form.

No more the waiting, Indeed I have found out the keys to open the lock, Through subversive silence and minding your own fucking business, leave the world with multiplication of love. This is the expansion in the darkness which keeps the illusion alive. The process of evolution of soul - to create division and then absolve. To make darkness look like light - is our emancipation - soul guiding light.

Peace and Joy

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Inward Farming

The problem has remained the same, and we are almost near the center of halcyon. Through time immemorial, man-kind has but looked outward for answers and solutions to its intricate concerns.

We needed to move and hence we developed the wheel, we needed to eat and settle so we developed cultivation of the earth. We needed to feel good and hence we developed gun powder. We needed to annihilate ourselves and then we developed the needle.

Though the answers/solutions seem to be attractive and have continued to hold our interest and valuable attention, there seems to be no in-depth satisfaction. No epiphany that these items and goods for our delight have really provided. 

We remain the same misled broken version of ourselves, one day at a time till the dutiful hour arrives where death with its clammy cold hands touches our left shoulder and we pass unto ether and leave behind indeed our life’s work – a little amount of dust.

There is corruption of the soul preceding us indeed. What else could be the explanation of this extreme state of things, where man fights another man – overcome with ferocity stemming from emotional irrationality; where there is enough food in warehouses to feed the world and yet amusement lies in watching starving children die in front of the camera; where there is safety propagated through the tip of a fission device. This is clearly absurd. Working to get a life and then falling ill and spending your money to recuperate and never breathing feeding in the fresh air…

Maybe the answer lies deeper and closer to us than we care to acknowledge. Yes the farm is within us and the land is fertile when we are born. It need not be tilled much and can quickly help you reap what you have sown.

Truly as you age (in the mind), and your views become so unmatched and firm and distasteful; the soil lacks nourishment and it will wither away. There will be famine in the heart and you will suffer starving away from love. You will hope for rain to come, and yet you will do nothing as everything you have ever been taught or have known stems from the external world and the supposed content-ness it brings.

You know this is wrong, there is no truth in this. The heart is beating volumes waiting for the child to come and till his own life’s work away. This is the purpose of life and its eventual decay. As the body and mind disintegrate – truly it is the land inwards which comes alive with fragrances of flowers untold and unheard.

There is joy in this decay – as if we are building our own burial grounds for our last day (as us). And when complete – we sit and rejoice; look at the farm we may have so created with sincerity through our lives, call our loved ones which we have met in the road – this precious journey so ever bound to repeat itself.

Why not revel in this inner joy, to make something precious for ourselves. To love oneself like others and love none like everything else. This is sheer joy.
When the field is ready, it blooms and the beautiful scent can be alluring to all those who have spent their lives in vain entanglements for external satisfaction. They flock like sheep to the nascent state of the heart – fulfilling the condition needed to exist for the soul.

Farming is not such a bad deal, you can do as you wish and with care – the outcome will be nourishing and indeed eternally rewarding.

Peace and Joy

Ode to Humanity

I am not a big fan of human kind, the version of life that in today’s day seems to be only focused upon itself. The day’s pass and humans ...