Explore the Sacred Whore Archetype ~~

“Previously, when I began to write this tale, I set out by saying that Mlle. Claude was a whore. She is a whore, of course, and I’m not trying to deny it, but what I say now is–if Mlle. Claude is a whore then what name shall I find for the other women I know?”
― Henry Miller

That is how patriarchy has been degrading and controlling sexually empowered women. Women who know their bodies and are absolutely comfortable with it. They know that a healthy relationship to her pussy, means a healthy relationship to existence.

But if you are a woman and you openly claim to have had sex with more than three guys, then you are a SLUT/WHORE. This my peeps is the toxic invention of the perverted patriarchs who were WORRIED(yes you heard that right) that if their women were not controlled then they will sleep with other men and not play housekeeping.

Men in their toxic possessiveness brought on monogamy. They made us COMMODITIES. We were denigrated from being a human, instead we began to be classed as SOMEONE’S daughter, sister or wife. We became objects to be owned and the painful saga continues…

In this whole mess of controlling women, they created a certain type of monster. Women who were ENABLERS of this unholy, toxic system perpetrated by the patriarchs. Women who burned and stoned other empowered and bold women.

I am working on a book called PUSSY TALKS, yes you heard that right. It is the story of how a vagina begins to speak to the body it is attached with. Through this metaphor of the Pussy talking, I hope to bring to forefront ideas of feminine sexual explorations. Yes there will be loads of info presented with a dose of entertainment. So watch this space for more on my MOTIVATIONAL BOOK ~~ PUSSY TALKS..

Women turned on women. And the rest as they say is History…not HERSTORY of course. For how can she have a story? Can women even think? Sadly even today a lot of chauvinists believe so.

On the topic of ORGASMS ~~ Listen guys, women can have MULTIPLES, yes they can. If you are a woman and you have no clue as to what I am referring to, you need to email me right now. And please tell me you guys experience FULL BODIES ORGASMS! When your orgasm is not concentrated in your genital area, but spreads across your whole being and rocks the very core of it. Yes my peeps, such orgasms exist and they are possible for all women.

Even for a dude, but the process is ummm…through the backdoor! 😉

Your anus is rich with nerve endings and believe you me, all men enjoy some type of anal play, including Analingus and penetration. Strapon play is a huge thing and can help couples work out through loads of psychological issues. Having to shift roles, makes boundaries dissolve fostering better communication and co-operation between couples.

The men have their G SPOT up their anus, so do not think you are gay if you enjoy Anal Play. IT IS NATURAL!

https://www.buzzfeed.com/caseygueren/so-youre-a-straight-guy-who-wants-to-try-butt-stuff?utm_term=.qr3Q7jvWN#.opL9RAmQg

If you can stimulate your man’s prostate, that is enough to bring him to climax and these orgasms are DEEP, full bodied magick! And it is not necessary that he will eject every time with prostate orgasm. Do not panic. In fact the longer men can hold off from ejecting, the better for them. So you see…men too can experience this wonder that the human body has to offer. Remember your butt has no sexual orientation, it just wants to feel all sorts of sensations.

The WHORE is a very ancient archetype. She is the PRIESTESS ARCHETYPE and asks Carl Jung describes her…

The Priestess archetype is perhaps the least known and most misunderstood, especially in the present patriarchal culture, which has rejected women‘s spirituality and individual spiritual expression throughout history.

The Priestess archetype is the inner domain of intuitive awareness and deep insight. It is the portal to  secret or “occult” (that which is hidden) knowledge of the invisible realms.

The Priestess has a magical connection to the unknown and a guide of souls.  A trans-connector, she facilitates between the material and the spiritual. She is the mediator of the psyche.

Patriarchy has mutilated this PRIESTESS and has called her a WHORE, like Mary Magdalene.  Yes my peeps, we are all carrying these MAGDALENE WOUNDS, collectively, all women. Mary Magdalene was not some common prostitute. No she was Yesua’s equal partner. His Bhairavi, in tantric parlance and look what they did to her legacy, but the future will venerate her.

Look what happens to Sita. She is forced to step into the fire to prove her innocence! After what she has been through! This is our story people…these wounds, these burns…

In my psychic visions, I have “seen” myself being burnt. I have read about stonings and have felt that pain in my own body. As an empath, these wounds are really intense and to top it off, I am a woman and a Priestess!

Women like Mary Magdalene were sexual alchemists, witches, sorceresses and muses. Because come to think about it. In this 3D world, the closest one can come to a concept of SAMADHI will be during a full bodied intense orgasm! Yes nothing quite connects us to the GODLY FIELD of PURE BLISS!

The first time I understood transcendence was during once such orgasm and that actually aided me in my spiritual development. Because it got me thinking that this intense ORGASMIC feeling is so wondrous and what if it could be prolonged. What if we could exist in some sort of orgiastic fever! Ah!

It is this quest that got me looking at meditation. Combining sex and meditation can be a tremendous healing tool and many, many couples have benefited from learning simple basic practices of ancient tantra.

So it is important for us, as a collective of men and women to heal these WOUNDS. To reclaim the power of Mary Magdalene. To reclaim the power of Sita. Draupadi and so many women from the past. We need to awaken the sacred whore archetype for complete healing of all humanity.

Without unleashing the full potential of the DIVINE FEMININE, the world will never rise to its next stage of vibration. We are on a spiral upwards.

That feminine spirit is like a WILD UNTAMED FOREST with so many treasures hidden within. There are so many layers to her that most men will never penetrate even the basics.

Most people hate whores as patriarchy has taught them that whores are bad. When in actuality whores are wise women, Prophetesses, Healers, Priestesses. These women were learned and sophisticated. They were full of mystery and intrigue and through their sexual oeuvres, they inspired the masculine.

Courtesans, Geisha and Whores were muses and healers.

The sexually active urban woman is still vilified daily if she is seen in amorous embrace with too many. She is labelled a slut by her group when in fact most of the guys have slept with her. How is a woman debased because your cock entered her? How? How? That just goes to show your cock is the problem, not the woman.

It is imperative for us all to invoke this COURTESAN in us. Why? To explore FEMININITY in all her aspects. All beautiful aspects. And the wife has much to learn from the courtesan. After all, the courtesan(in most cases) controlled the men.

I am in no way suggesting that you need to control your man. In fact the quicker you understand that NOTHING EVER WILL BE UNDER CONTROL, the quicker you will learn to make peace with what’s happening. So think of awakening the COURTESAN to rekindle lost passion or maybe just to show him who the boss is in bed.

I request all women to forgo the missionary. Try new positions. Yes check out the Kamasutra(as corny as that sounds) and figure out what really works for your guy.

The word Prostitute is from the Latin and means Pro-Stituare; To  Stand In on Behalf of.

The sacred whore stood in behalf of the DIVINE YONI or the COSMIC VAGINA. She channels in the power of the MOTHER MATRIX, or MULAPRAKRITI. You see the original WHORE is an ENERGY WORKER and through the act of sex, she alchemically transforms stagnant energy or base metal into GOLD through touch, copulation and other intimate acts. How profound is that!

She is also known as DAKINI in Buddhist terminology.

“In a balanced viewpoint that includes both masculine and feminine perspective, healing is seen not as a technique, but as a process.”
― Jeanne Achterberg, Woman as Healer

All women want WILD SEXUAL ENCOUNTERS. I know this to be true, just by gathering material for my book Pussy Talks(I have spoken to HUNDREDS of women from all over the world). It is about the lost feminine voice speaking through the metaphor of a pussy, the seat of the womb. The book I spoke about. I plan to do workshops as well to reconnect people to the various feminine archetypes to rebirth creativity and abundance.

The healing of these wounds are ever so important for people who have been abused or raped. The trauma can only be overcome by surrendering to the great cosmic force of ORGASM. It is okay if you do not have a partner, just learn how to pleasure yourself and bring yourself to full bodied multiples; then with intention and meditation, you can totally heal. Just remember, SEX IS NOT DIRTY or CHEAP. It is not only an absolutely natural physiological process, it also harbours potentials to be the most potent creative force in the Universe.

“Sivtatva’ and ‘Saktitatva’ (Lord Shiva and Holy Mother Kali) – Father’s semen in mother’s womb, both combined which CREATES the MULTIPLE UNIVERSES. Male and female polarities create matter/space/time!

Women need to shed off sexual inhibitions. Aren’t we tired of being submissive? Ladies, I suggest you fuck your man tonight like a Goddess, like a Priestess, like Mary Magdelena would have fucked Yesua to transform him into what he became.

The most important thing to imbibe about the courtesan archetype will be FREEDOM. Understand what it means for you. As an individual and in a couple dynamics. What does sexual freedom mean to you? I am not suggesting you sleep with numerous guys and claim to be sexually liberated.

That whole gig is as toxic as it can get. By FREEDOM I mean, ask for what you want in bed and do not be afraid to reverse the dynamics. If you are not used to experimenting, then please do so. Why not look at exploring what tickles both your fantasies??

Few pointers on how to proceed

Gaze into his eyes

Keep the look fixed

Role play(not French maid or Japanese school girl for fuck’s sake! Dig deep into your erotic tastes)

Cultivate INTRIGUE(the main tool of the courtesan) For she knows how to get her men coming back for more…

Be present in the NOW

Breathe deeply

Feel each sensation

Use toys

Talk to him(yes talk dirty) Use a script or plain improvise!

Really feel him while you touch, kiss, spank, spit…whatever works…

Let me really look at you- see you for the GODDESS you are…

Intend to HEAL him with your acts. Yes thoughts are ENERGY!

Turn off from all the noise going on in your head and become the WILD WHORE you are meant to be!

Email me for more… tina@tinaheals.com

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The Plan ~~ A Novel by Tinaheals

MIZPAH

The smell of death, the touch of suffering,

The hungry mouths, the tired bodies,

This is reality, wait, its buffering.

This is what it embodies.

The sleep, the dream, the dream in the dream!

 

I force my memory to return to that day, that fateful night.

I feel so divorced from reality that everything seems to be from a film, some experimental film, where the maker is purposely using disjointed close ups, to display the brokenness of the characters, to make visible the dehumanising of them.

It’s like when I look at advertisements- dismembered body parts of women are made to mimic products, a torso becomes a bottle of alcohol, and two legs become scissors. The woman is not only sexualized, objectified, but her body is not even allowed to remain whole, it is sliced up. What violence!

But here in this scene the filmmaker has perceived of slicing the characters to convey to me that they are somehow not whole, they are somehow disintegrating, they are fading away. The film I see, has a burnt out texture, the whole shot seems to be fragmented; there is an emptiness evident in the mise scene; the atoms are 9.999999999999% empty, so reality is essentially emptiness and I am more not here than here.

The camera is fluid, the shots keep going out of focus and then the subject gets refocused on. Wait, is this some film festival? Nah, it’s my life, more like a snapshot of my life.

That day!

I see her face; her mascara is running down her face, she looks like some character from a horror flick. Dressed in torn jeans and a white tee, her feet bare, her  messy make up, the alcohol on her breath and her cigarette smoke, they all surface at different times in my mind, like abstract close ups. They help me conjure up that very moment and I am there again.

A few weeks ago we had gone to the Police Station to file an FIR against this bastard. Not much was said that day or the following weeks of what had transpired because my sister was pretty much catatonic and has been since them, but this evening I get a call from her, drunk out of her head asking me to drop by. I ask Frank not to come as she might open up easier without a male presence, so hopping into a rick, I went straight to her Andheri apartment that she shared with Mel.

Anxiously I waited for her to get the door, and the sight that greeted my eyes shocked the living hell out of me.

Zeenia is wearing the same clothes in which she was raped and has painted her face very dramatically, presumably depicting the way she feels. I’m fucking scared. All these past few weeks what seemed like an eternity to me, she had suffered terribly from rape trauma syndrome and it has devastated us. We have all pretty much given up smiling or talking about anything normal, we just eat when hunger threatens to burn a hole through our stomach. Between Mel and me, we supervise her day and night, never allowing that one moment of weakness to overcome her. Slowly, slowly, she began to sleep for a few minutes, which has become a few hours. She’s stopped screaming in her sleep and the hallucinations about the rape have also lessened.

Only on days when we went to court, she’d be pretty much devastated to see the perpetrator sitting across the room, all smug and confident; lying through his teeth. Today the session at court was traumatic and this night is the reaction to that.

The night begins…

There are red Sula bottles strewn round the floor. I’m in Zeenia’s apartment at Yari Road, at least that’s where I think I am, my senses and understanding have abandoned me; we’re smoking spliffs and cigarettes like it’s going out of fashion.

The tiny apartment is smoky, it reeks of that cheap, sweet Sula smell that I detest; never been much of a drinker, in fact I do not care for alcohol at all, but today’s different.

Zeenia is drunk with a capital D and she keeps thrusting the bottle in my hand while petting Bhola, a stray puppy she rescued from the alleys of four bunglows. I keep sipping, knowing that she has something to say, but it is one of those things which can be mouthed out when one is sufficiently inebriated.

So I keep quiet, I drink on; we’re getting sloshed, Zeenia appears to be crying, hugging Bhola who stares at her surprised.

I see her face, a close up shot, her smeared mascara, and her face pale. What’s happened to you, my dearest friend, my sister? Why’re you wearing the same clothes? Why would you wear such ghoulish makeup?

Zeenia breaks down, she’s sobbing her eyes out. Bhola drags himself and sniffs her; he cannot walk as his hind is paralyzed, he carries his whole body weight on his front paws. There is a cello playing in the background, “Nothing else matters”, the celebrated Mettalica tune plays; there are no words, just the haunting tune spoken by the cello. It is spooky, it is surreal; eerily it plays on, the cello is hell bend on making me nauseous.

This nausea is different; it is filled with anxiety, with trepidation, with a doomsday feeling. Something bad is happening, no, no, it has happened and she is trying to tell me about it.

Birds fly high,

Heart as heavy as sinking iron.

The dusky twilight of today.

My haiku for the day, as I wait for her.

She is trying to work up the courage to speak about it, yes, something horrific has happened and she’s kept it bottled up for so long. Life as we knew it has ended, even Bhola can sense it.

Zeenia is on all-fours, on the floor, pulling her hair, screaming out in pain; all this while she was holding it in. I want to comfort her, but nausea is all I have. Where is Dadu? Where am I? Obviously not here, this body is here, pissed out of her mind, but where am I?

Am I in her scream? Am I in her pain? Am I even there? Do I even exist?

I just want to type away all this pain, yes, that’s what writers do, don’t they? A fucking fucked up cliché.

He raped me Nina, she’s saying. For the first time, I hear the words, the sinking feeling gets worse, as if it could get any worse. Since that day at the police station, she’d remained mute and unresponsive to everything, but today the flood gates have broken. I think I handled it better when she was silent, seeing her like this, with such a painful rawness is actually very scary.

Chills ran down my spine to actually hear these words- RAPE, RAPE, RAPE, it kept making a din in my consciousness. No, I did not hear it, but why is this word making so much noise, drowning everything else.

You read about rape in the newspapers, you watch it on tele, you see actors getting raped in films, you come across it in novels or short stories; but where do you encounter that word in the comfort of your own surroundings?

Such words do not perpetrate their violence in my mind when it comes to my sister.

As a writer you explore rape through different characters, you feel it deeply, but not like this.

Focus Nina, I hear a voice in my brain. Focus on what she is saying. “That bastard, he’s a fucking doctor, I trusted him…” All these words came to my ears disjointed, like a fragment from a whole dialogue but in the time they travelled to my ears these sound waves had lost most of their substance.

“How do people in positions of power abuse others so badly, I fucking don’t understand, especially women; these cunts create feminazis” shouts Zeenia. Her hands trembles as she tries to cut some white powder into straight lines. She snorts it through a crisp note, her eyes begin to water. She offers me the note; rolled up, ready to aid me in devouring some white powder.

No fucking way man, I did not yet care to fry my brain this instant, and of course the nausea is threatening to take charge. I have to keep it down. How did she get this stuff?

“Tell me all about it Zeenu, forget about the crap his lawyers are throwing at you, just tell me everything, from the beginning; he was about to operate on you, what happened?” I hear a small voice ask.

“Doctors are cunts; they probably rape patients on an everyday basis, who knows? Oh! And so are lawyers, fucking fuckballs…” she vacillates as if in a trance.

“But how, how,” I hear an insipid murmur. “How did it happen?”

“Fuck Nina, you’re just regurgitating the same shit over and over again, I was thinking about the story you wrote remember, about the rape…in the stables,” she reminds me.

I am quietened, I have no words. Yes I am dying to know how it happened, but I must not seem insensitive, as if at this point I can even feel anything. I think I officially know the meaning of hollow inside. I am guilty of writing that rape story in the stables, I am guilty, guilty…just hang me!

Once reminded of my creation of pain, I keep quiet; I know I have to pacify her, to give her some warmth. Why the fuck did I write that story? Oh Dadu, where are you now?

My mind is such a mess that right now even if Dadu appeared and spoke to me I could only materialize a vacuous stare.

Pull yourself together, that voice inside my head would just not shut up.

The scene playing in my mind, this movie I’m watching is boody nerve wracking. I want to shake this character Nina, the idiotic poet, phoo. What on Earth is her problem? Why can’t the bitch just hug her sister?

It’s as if the character in the film heard my cue. I see this Nina person slowly go up to her sister. She hugs her, it’s not a hug; it’s more of surrender. Zeenia had not expected this move, her rigid body turns limp, she surrenders to the power of human touch. The two sisters sob in each other’s arms, it’s perfect. The observer and the observed became one, for a second, I became Nina.

Nina, the writer; no big deal in a country where Chetan Bhagat is a best seller, it’s absolutely mundane now, being a writer that is. It’s officially the death of the intellectual. Besides what does this girl really write? Most would label her work as b.s, too grim, too existential (as if that’s a profanity), basically useless! Entertainment kahan gaya paaji? Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Yes I am a morose writer, a fucking retard, oh, and depressed retard!

Scream of infinite solitude,

Enmeshed in traffic of the soul,

A faint smile.

This kind of shit is running through my head, fuckity fuck!

The night drags on. It’s funny how when I have a pleasurable time, it’s gone before I can even quantify all the sensations I had felt; but when things go downhill, it’s like karma coming full-force to bite me in the ass.

Finally, we both stop sobbing!

Her voice is small, it’s in fact tiny!

I can barely hear it, although we’re so close.

“You know how fucked up this shit is, I went to consult him for that boob job, my producer finally gave me the cash…so I found him online and went ahead, those D cups were all I had in my head, I’m so fucked up, don’t shshhh me, I’m a dumb bitch. You told me not to go for it, but what was I to do. I needed bigger tits, for that fucking part. Fuck, shit’s really hit the roof. I’m fucked, fucked…” She says.

I have no response, my eyes are closed. I am not watching her face, just imagining her reactions.

I could see every single micro expression, every single movement of her jaws, of her eyes, how the lines creased in her face, I saw all the details without actually looking.

I taste Zeenia’s tears in my mouth or were they my own? I have no answers, I have just feelings. The nausea, the confusion is overwhelming and the emotions are transmigrating as words in my mind palace. I wish to document the pain of the dark night, there was an abundant amount of it and my psyche could not hold all.

I wait with bated breath for her to continue and it looks like Bhola did the same.

Her voice has a far off quality to it, like it echoes from some distant world. I listen as she continues.

“Don’t they have the bloody Hippocratic oath, practise medicine honestly, screw practising medicine, isn’t it absolutely unethical on so many grounds to sodomize your patient,” as she says this I realize she has stopped sobbing, so have I.

My eyes are still closed, I’m watching this scene as the abstract, fragmented film, all those extreme close ups to help the exposition along.

She moves away slowly, I just wait. Our embrace is broken, now we sit facing each other. I open my eyes, I see her eyes.

The pain in them is excruciating, it rips my heart apart. Looking into her eyes I know that no matter how hard I try I will never be able to pen down that emotion, that look will haunt me for the rest of my life.

Zeenia’s my baby sister, I came to the world five seconds earlier, so I’m the older sister; in any case I’ve acted like she was my choto bon.

Shey amar choto bon, boro adorer choto bon…yes, I would piss her off to no end when this song came out of my lips. Damn you Nina, cut out the didi complex, what’s with Bongs and didigiri?

And kobigiri? Kobi kobi bhab, chonder obhak. True that. What’s with all the poetry in my heart, it’d be better off being more prosaic, that’s what the world needs.

Anyway, I protected her, I supported her, I guided her; overall I performed all functions of an older sister as well as that of my mother. Dadu was always there, he was our guardian angel.

Sanity is returning slowly to me, I guess it’s the warmth from my sister’s hug. I’m inclined to ramble on, “Your tits are fine, and why did you even need to go to that asshole? I told you not to, you don’t need silicon in your tits to become an actor. You’re not a bimbo, you’re way better than that.”

Zeenu starts shrieking, “I know what you’re thinking, tell me, tell me. You think it’s my fault right?? You’re probably thinking of some fucking haiku right?”

“Nah re baba, how can it be your fault and no I’m not thinking of a fucking haiku?? Nah re shona, it is my fault. I should have insisted and when you didn’t listen I should have done something severe.”

“What severe? Tied me up?” Her voice takes on a lighter note.

“Probably, fuck knows.” A hint of a smile in my voice.

“I have made Dadu proud, gone and got myself raped.” She laughs cynically. Bhola gets excited to hear her laugh and barks loudly wagging his tail, she grabs him roughly and begins kissing him. What violent love!

“Dadu would have never judged you know that, although your desire for the film led to all this…” I murmur.

A slap is what I deserve; blurting this out was definitely not the right move.

“Desire is the root of all suffering he would say,” she smiles.

I think this night will never end and I don’t know when we passed out on the floor listening to Bob Marley- No woman no cry.

The mind is a funny mechanism, it does not remember everything, yet everything is tucked away neatly in some kind of mind palace. We remember things selectively, otherwise we’d go stark raving mad!

The scene begins to fade away, like a slow fade out. And I remember typing lines on to my laptop…

The smell of death, the touch of suffering,

The hungry mouths, the tired bodies,

This is reality, wait, its buffering.

This is what it embodies.

The sleep, the dream, the dream in the dream!

The lines disappear…

Another more menacing scene replaces this one. It has an ominous overture; the sound of water fills my ears.

You know the sound of water running in a shower.

Zeenia is inside and she is scrubbing herself furiously. We’ve lost the court case, after months of painful hours spent in court, the verdict is out. Dr. V is officially not guilty. It’s somehow proven that my sister’s the slut, apparently they had consensual sex. So the case is blown to dust, like a lamp extinguished with a puff.

That night will be embedded in my psyche forever. We’ve returned home after another god-awful day at court, and today was the last day. We have lost in the Mumbai high court. We may decide to challenge the verdict in Supreme Court, but that’s something we’ve got to decide together. For tonight, it is just silence I seek.

Melissa is Zeenia’s partner, they seem to be in love. I quite like her, the girl seems to have her head on her shoulders.

We were talking softly about nothing exceptional, in fact I did not even want to talk, but had to, Mel needed to talk and I was there.

So we spoke, sipping coffee and taking turns to pet Bhola.

I had insisted that Zeenia leave her bathroom door open, she had one too many episodes recently. The breakdown of her psyche bit by bit was becoming more evident and today in court I saw the look in her eyes- the look of defeat. It broke my heart.

I heard the water run in the shower and the words to her favourite song floated out. We kept on talking, the water kept running, the beats marched on. It was as if time was set in a loop. I registered nothing from the conversation with Melissa, I’m sure she didn’t either; we were both trying to keep from breaking down.

Then she politely asked us to leave her alone and went for a bath which seemed like ages. We also wrapped up and I went to see her to kiss her goodnight. Yes she was in bed, smelling wonderful, hugging Bhola. Kissing her I left, Mel went into the shower, finished up and crawled into bed.

That night I saw baba and ma in a dream, it was prophetic. I ran after being woken up by my dream and the thoughts that followed. I went into her room.

 

The air had turned chilly, if that was even possible in a city like Bombay; and I miss you like the deserts miss the rain, said the song.

We ran. I saw this happening in slow motion. My life in film- we ran to the bed, and what I had expected greeted my eyes.

She lay on the bed, all snugly hugging her Bhola who was not making any noise.

Mel shrieked Frank ran in; I don’t know what happened after that. Some sort of primeval hardwiring in my brain took care of things.

Zeenia’s mouth was wiped dry, she had to be changed into jeans and a sweatshirt; after cleaning her up, her clothes sat snugly on her body as we put her down in the couch.

I remember seeing her face, all the troubles had vanished, and she seemed to be in deep sleep. I remember Dadu singing “Amaro shone chandero kona, bhubone tulona nai re…”

He sang this song sometimes; it was apparently our mother’s favourite, her mother would sing it to her when she was a child.

Where is she? I barely remember her now, but she’s there somewhere in my psyche; sometimes I hear her sing, her smell, her touch, for a micro second I remember.

Today she had come to see me, in my dream. She had told me something which made absolutely sense- you are her, she is you…

The reality was beginning to fragment again, my head was spinning and I could hardly focus as parts of my dream danced around my mind.

I imagined her last moments; she kept her pills hidden somewhere, maybe in the cistern. I see her take out a fistful, while her tears and water all get mixed up, you’d know she’s crying if only you watched the agony on her face.

She stuffs the pills in her mouth, chokes on them but swallows them down. Reflex action, she feels like throwing up. But she clutches her mouth, forcing them down.

I cut back in my mind to another scene, we’re sitting in the bathroom floor, she’s fallen flat on her face, she’s hurt, purple blue bruises adorn her face.

“Please Zeenu, stop taking this shit. Are you trying to leave me alone, do you want to kill yourself?” I tell her.

Suddenly a smile breaks free from all this torment; she whispers softly, her voice like silk.

“Nina to be something I am not is also a form of suicide, listen I want to hand in my resignation from this fucked up life, before I get fired.”

I hear her laugh softly as if this idea had amused her.

“Quite the philosopher, to be or not to be,” I say.

“Has always been the question,” she says definitively.

“Don’t do anything stupid ok, remember what Dadu would say, all this shit is unreal.” She sensed the urgency; the request in my voice touched her somewhere I know.

She looked at me long and hard, “I’m the fucking poster girl for stupid at this moment,” She thinks, probably about Dadu as her face softens. “I doubt Dadu would quite put it like that, but I get the gist.”

We sit in silence on the cold, wet tiles, we embraced our tears instead of suppressing them and calm washed over us.

“Some fucked up illusion this is…why can’t something good happen to me for a change? She blurts out; I feel her heartache. “At least your Muffin has nine lives right, can’t he give me a couple?”

I smile. Do cats have nine lives?

Mel is touching my hands, she is trying to bring me back to the present moment. I cut back to the scene in front- my sister’s body is stone cold, she finally did the “stupid” thing.

Was it so stupid after all? My grandmother also handed her resignation and so had her father; after all we share the same mitochondrial DNA.

Somehow this incident had made Zeenia hate herself, it made her hopeless; I did not understand what could make her as full of despair as to end her life, not just hers, but end our lives.

After Dadu’s passing, she is, I mean was all I had. I’m still not used to referring to her in the past.

I can still feel her vibrations; our feelings exist as vibration along the nervous system and we feel what another feels. I feel my sister.

I hear the sound of an approaching ambulance; she will be taken away soon. Bhola is whining, his tail stiff and he just keeps licking Zeenu’s hands.

Mel was ready when they walked in, thankfully she sorted everything out. She tugged at my hands and nodded, signalling it was time to move.

I got up zombified, it was time.

The journey to the hospital is hazy, a blur in my mind.

I remember her body being carried in a stretcher, with tubes all over her nostrils and face.

What the hell were they doing to her?

It looked to me like some scene from a D-grade horror; hospitals sicken me to the core. It’s a bloody phobia-

Nosocomephobia!

I had this phobia all along which is why I had googled it; it was at least a comfort to know I am not alone.

They say that the fear essentially arises from the fact that one has no control over their lives once admitted.

A control freak, I’m not! It didn’t take me long to realize that nothing is under control and in fact nothing can ever be.

All I can recollect is sitting on a steel bench in the corridor; it’s flooded with lights, the walls are white, and everything smells disgusting! The Doctors in their garbs, mouths covered, the nurses in their uniforms, hair tied severely in a bun, they all looked scary and ugly; all the action was happening in slow motion and it looked like they were experimenting on humans. Maybe they’re aliens, who even knows?

Something about the smell in a hospital, a mix of Dettol, bleach, blood, sweat, puke and faeces; you can also smell the fear, the anxiety, the devastation disease and bodily suffering brings.

And then it just goes blank- fade to black.

Nothing else exists- not matter which is just a form of energy in a matrix of probability.

I see Dadu, his big, white beard swaying in the dark; a fire seems to burn in front of him, I can hear the wood crackle, I can see the fire dance in his eyes. He begins to look like someone not quite like Dadu, but he is him.

Dadu’s face began to morph into the face of Sanyal Mahasaya, his gurudeva. I knew that face only too well; it had been a part of my life as seeing it as the first thing in the morning cemented that face forever in my brain.

Sanyal Mahasaya looked wrathful, fearsome and terrifying. His voice was booing in my head, “Actions or karma can cause bondage, it can also liberate, in the one BEING, the ONE ALL, everything is connected to every other thing. Good and evil are subjective…the Universe is both positive and negative, like the atoms bouncing in your body…it is the whole series of contrasted qualities- NOTHING IS PURE GOOD OR PURE EVIL.”

I saw her face again; the song is playing louder now that the monologue is over, like the sound designer turned it up a notch!

“Now you’ve disappeared somewhere,

Like outer space,

You’ve found some better place

And I miss you…

Like the deserts miss the rain

Could you be dead…

By now the words had begun to scream at me- could you be dead??

It hit me hard- she is dead!!!

I will never hold her again, I will never laugh with her again, never share my life with her again; the same way I can never see Ma or baba or dadu.

It’s over, finito, kaput!!!

I see her again, frothing from the mouth, her body all twisted and blue from the poison, I feel the nausea swimming in my head.

I think about the observer’s paradox, this concept that the observer decides what to observe. What if I am observing all the wrong things??? There are infinite probabilities, so why is this option playing itself out??

Am I in some bizarre twisted way responsible for this? Can I take the blame for this?

I am ready to do pretty much anything at this point to suppress this immense pain; absolutely anything! Muffin where are you?

I’ve got to write, the words are coming, but not as fast as I’d like them to.

I shout, I see it, I hear it,

The pain, the atrocity, it exists….

In me…

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the_twins-1382139739m

 

 

What to do if someone is your Twinflame??

twin3

“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.”
― Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets

Yes a lot of us are feeling this intense longing for our Twinflame and why won’t we? I mean this Twinflame is not only just a mirror-soul, but he or she is the very song your soul sings, the very luminescent and magical colours of the rainbow, the acute explosion of a supernova!

I mean how can we dis such an important phenomenon that is sweeping across mass-consciousness? Even people who are in relationships are in some way pining for their Twinflames. All I dream about is gazing into his eyes forever! What colour would his eyes be? A mixture? Does it change colour? You can try this too. Gaze into your lover’s eyes. You will feel an intensity, you have never imagined before. If you are intuitive, then you will just know. And if you think you are not intuitive, then please know this that every human being has powers of INTUITION whether they develop it or not is another thing.

It’s simple logic. The very penetration of this dense 3D matrix is possible if you join in SPIRITUAL UNION with your Twinflame. Yes my peeps…it is possible to awaken the latent kundalini energy at the base of your spine.

“Kundalini means, according to Zeena ‘She Who is Hidden,’ and points to the dormant goddess in every human being’s body. While the kundalini force is found in muladharachakra, she hypnotizes humans, like maya herself, and renders them slaves to the illusory. Kundalini can only awaken people if she travels up along the spine.’ ~~ Zeena Schreck, Demons of the Flesh: The Complete Guide to Left Hand Path Sex Magic

If your SACRAL CHAKRA is depleted, it might mean you are facing relationship woes one after the other. It could also mean that the person you are trying to attract has become nothing more than just an idea! To put it plainly, you do not get the people you desire and the people who show interest in you are the ones who really don’t matter to you!

Yes that is the case with a lot of people that are looking to find love or a passionate amorous encounter. Remember never to make sex cheap! Even if it is a one night stand. Please remember that the person you have shared intimate energy with will be now karmically inextricably connected to you! Stupendous stuff, yes?

http://www.collective-evolution.com/2014/03/18/this-study-will-make-you-think-twice-about-who-you-are-getting-into-bed-with/

Always respect the person you are sharing this wondrous moment with and you will only gain from the experience. Sex is your life force.

Cut back to the Twinflame stuff again….

So this yabyum union of the male/female polarities has the potentiality to take us beyond this 3D to 5D. Sex magick is extremely powerful and if practised properly, one can lose physical body awareness. As in the couple truly become ONE CONSCIOUSNESS!

Isn’t that beautiful! Okay this type of bliss can only be achieved whilst practising in certain ways. Sex is one of the most powerful forces in the Universe and we can harness great amounts of energy from it.

‘Sex’ is as important as eating or drinking and we ought to allow the one appetite to be satisfied with as little restraint or false modesty as the other. ~~Marquis de Sade

Yes sex is a physiological function, but then it is so much more…it is magick!

Now imagine having sex with your Twinflame. How good does it feel to be in his arms? How good does it feel to kiss her? How good does it feel to touch and kiss and make love? The whole experience is amazing right? It truly is. This love and Twinflame business has had me loosing sleep for many years now.

Now imagine that SEXUAL LONGING, that intensity multiplied a million, trillion times….no exaggerations. It feels like a million quasars bursting when two Twinflames unite in higher dimensions! This is why this force is so strong and propels some of us to keep looking. Some of us will not give up. Say what?

And sometimes when Twinflames meet, even if for a day, the energy between them is RAW, UNTAMED. It is not the normal polite, go-on-a-date, cordial type of energy. This energy can bring about destruction if you are reckless with it. Do everything at your discretion!

Most of the people suppress this STRONG urge, but certain individuals like me persist. I always knew that there was someone somewhere who was the closest to me. I mean I could never explain this feeling. It was just there. But who is he? Where is he? Tell me in the comments section, have you felt this unknown connection to a stranger before?

Then I uncovered this whole Twinflame thingy! And I never looked back. I immersed myself in research in occult books and libraries trying to discover more. I spoke to holy men, women and mystics to gather data. I began to speak to lovers of all ages.

What is this Twinflame? Does it even exist?

As I met one asshole after the other, I became convinced that finding my connection is not going to be easy. Obviously we have other karmic ties we must severe to unite. My partner does not believe in Twinflames, but he has seen a vision of us melting in each other in the yabyum position; and we were beings of pure light! 😉 I think he is hinting that he is my Twinflame! Is he?

I have not only been doing theoretical and field work, I have also continued to meditate on the phenomenon. I will suggest a few mind exercises at the end. You can sometimes compare two natal charts to figure out if the lovers have past karma and more often than not, these types are twinflame connections.

You know good old Romeo and Juliet. Yes Twinflames my dears. Why do you think that such star crossed lovers feature so prominently in our collective psyche? Why are all the great love stories tragic? Why do we not rave about two people getting married and growing old together. That is like most people, but we still hold such intense, volatile obsession for love stories that bring to us something that transcends the ordinary.

This transcendence of the ordinary, this mystical feeling of butterflies in the stomach when you see someone you really connect with can be quite invigorating. And we humans love it. We love to love. See Satine and Christian…what a love story! One of my favourites. No matter how many times I listen to this, it will never fail to move me beyond words…This film makes me feel all sorts of Twinflame things. Ha! You? When they kiss first? When he woos her? When she dies in his arms? The show must go on…

How many of you are like me? Obsessed with love? Sometimes I think it is a concept I am running after and anyone with flesh and blood will disappoint. Because you see any and every relationship will disappoint, no matter who is involved. IN this 3D world, the world of duality, it is not possible for relationships to be untainted or without baggage.

And definitely not your Twinflame lover! Nope. It will be anything but ordinary, mundane and boring. Your INTUITION will become super charged if somehow you are in your Twinflame’s vicinity. You will begin to feel it right away….just trust yourself, and your heart.

So do you think you have identified your Twinflame? First and foremost, make sure that this person is in fact someone who is so close. Because if you keep running after people thinking they are your Twinflames, then ultimately you will get disheartened. I have seen it happen too many times…

Take it easy if you think you know him or her. Do you know them? Who are they? What kind of person are they? Identify what makes you think they are in fact this person! In most Twinflame scenarios, there will crazy types of synchronicity. Yes and they will be staring in your face. You just have to find it. Are they married? Dating?

If you know him/her, then start to cultivate a friendship. Do not rush into dating. Feel the vibrations. See if your heart is pointing to someone then in most cases, it must be looked at. The heart does not lie. The heart has its own electro-magnetic field which is tied to the heart of the Cosmos. So channel this energy and ask your heart why you think this person is your Twinflame.

Journal your thoughts everyday. Meditate on that person. Go out if possible, but as a friend initially. And do not start blabbing about Twinflames for fuck’s sake. Just get to know each other. Your Twinflame will attract you immensely, even if they do not like the same things. I already told you guys that your Twinflame will not feed your ego.

Okay what happens if you do not know each other. Well then I would seriously ask you to reconsider. Why do you think then he or she is your Twinflame? You say that you feel it, but then if it is something you have felt for a moth, then do not take it too seriously. It can flake off. But if you can identify an instinctual overwhelming inexplicable connection to someone, then it is worth exploring.

if you have thought of someone for many months, may be even years in some cases I have seen, then it is very possible that this person could in fact be pulling at the strings of your heart from previous lives. If you want to get to know this person, then start a convo. See if there is any reciprocity. If not, it is best to back off.

Make it about something general and see if you genuinely connect. If this person does not even know you and you are too scared to make the first move, then let it lie. You can keep observing for signs and in the meanwhile you can set intention for him or her to ping you instead.

Of course it is possible to get someone to ping you. Yes with your mind. Let me tell you how to do this. First identify the person. Clear your mind and meditate. Then visualise that person picking up the phone, opening the messenger and drafting out the message.

Actually visualise what the message will say. See it in your mind and then see him/her press send. Then see it coming to you. Give thanks to the Universe as you open it in your mind. Read it as  you know what it says. Then feel the emotions that you are experiencing after you get this text. What happens to your mind? What happens to your body?

If you feel the need to pleasure yourself, then do so at the end of it. Use a black and red candle at the end and see it burn. Watch parts of your visualisations in the fire as the candle burns. Sit in silence and let the Universe works its magic. You have to do this a few times to impress this on the Akashik field.

All I am saying is that do not rush into identifying every passionate relationship as your Twinflame, so when the real thing pops up, you are left broken and embittered. Keep an open mind, but use your powers of discretion. Follow your heart, but take your brain with you.

As the Age of Aquarius becomes more characteristic, we will see relationships metamorphosing and becoming changed forever. We can see this happening with the rise of polyamory, femdom and other such sexual mores. So if possible, keep an open mind and explore the phenomenon of human sexual relationships in all its aspects, of course without harming anyone.

What if you feel no connection to your Twinflame? Tell you what why don’t you concentrate everyday at a fixed point and just send love and healing to your Twinflame. This will greatly expedite his/her karmic growth and you may meet finally one day.

In fact this is how I began to send love to my Twinflame and believe me today I know that he is as aware of me as I am of him, but I seriously doubt we will meet in this incarnation! Why do I say this? It’s complicated, just like the FB status.

“You are a livingness, a verb. What is arising in you, at this moment, is the great realization.”
― Christopher Zzenn Loren, unSpiritual: A Spiritual Journey

Email me ~~ tina@tinaheals.com

http://www.tinaheals.com

 

 

Can same sex couples be Twinflames? YES THEY CAN!!! ~~~

“The best thing to hold onto in life is each other.” — Audrey Hepburn

Yes guys, the answer is that same sex couples can definitely be Twinflames and Soulmates. Before we became separated into the sexes, there was the DIVINE ANDROGYNY/ GENDER LESS LIGHT BEINGS OF PURE ENERGY. This 3D DIVISION came much later. And all of us here on Earth have incarnated as MEN and WOMEN and all the other sexes, over and over again.

Look I have been working with gay and lesbian couples for many years. I have provided tarot readings, horoscopes, counselling to many of them and most importantly I have been a FRIEND and a LISTENED when they desperately needed someone.

Why? Let me just say that someone very close to me is gay and I intend to help him discover his twinflame energy. Gay couples also can meet their twinflames and let no one tell you that gays cannot be twinflames.

Fuck that shit! I have been meditating on the Twinflame phenomenon for many, many years. Gathering data for my writings and make sense of this phenomenon. But I tell you one thing, the more I delve into the subject, the more I realised that this remains largely unknown to humans. This Twinflame phenomenon.

It is a hankering we all have. To connect with the ONE. The one who is the most intimate part of us. We all feel this need in varying degrees, some more than the others. Having so many planets in Leo, I am obsessed with this concept….since I can remember.

The more I dated and explored my sexual desires, the more I realised that everything is fucking HOLLOW and SYNTHETIC. Like life itself. There is so much HATE and useless judging!

Why do people need to discriminate because two people of the same sex decide to love each other? What business is it of theirs? The couple is told they will burn in heaven and that they are not doing the needful by not procreating.

http://jezebel.com/talking-to-meghan-daum-about-selfishness-being-childle-1694081568

Leave women alone if they don’t want to procreate! It is normal.

Fuck! We don’t need more babies! We need responsible, conscious adults who will care and love the Earth. We need a brand of Earth Warriors who will shed off all the polarities to join together to create this world where everyone is EQUAL.

People can fall in love. Even if they are two men. There is nothing wrong with that. Why are people so scared of such phenomenon. In fact responsible gay couples can adopt and help raise all the orphans and the war kids. That is a good solution.

Just because they are gay, does not mean they cannot raise children.

Many times when I have tapped into the AKASHIC FIELDS, I have come across archetypal imagery which surfaced from my UNCONSCIOUS. Yes same sex couples have existed from the beginning of time and TWINFLAME RELATIONSHIPS ARE NOT ABOUT SEX, although you may be ravenously attracted once you lay hands on them.

http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2014/02/15/the-complete-glossary-of-facebook-s-51-gender-options?source=upworthy1

Look at that list! That is the wide range of human sexuality!

All couples of all orientations can meet their twinflames, but like the rest of us, they have to wade through the karmic quagmire of shit! Don’t be irritated if I tell you that there is work to be done! Fuck, right? What work? How the fuck do you do this work?

Relax, all of humanity in its 3D expression is as clueless as you, but our 5D self is AWARE of it all. So learn to tap into the INNER SELF with meditation and soul work.

Believe me in 5D you will be reunited with your twinflame because moving to 5D is not possible without YABYUM with that SOUL. Yabyum is the cosmic UNION of the MALE/FEMALE polarities.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yab-Yum

How then can gays be Twinflames?

Do you know that every human has both the sexes in them.

Genitals? Most people think that male and female genitals are about as different as can be: penis = male and vagina = female. But even this basic dichotomy is not really correct: the genitals emerge from the same mass of embryonic tissue. For the first six weeks of development the tissue masses develop identically.  At about six to seven weeks, depending on whether the fetus has XX or XY chromosomes (usually), the tissues start to differentiate. One part of the tissues begins to form the clitoris or penis and another forms the labia or scrotum. Another area begins to form into either the testes or the ovaries. This means that physiologically, male and female genitals are made of the same stuff and work in similar ways. ~~Psychology Today

Do you see how similar we are? We are ONE SPECIES after all, yes?

The animal kingdom is full of homosexuality providing it is 100% natural and not man-made.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homosexual_behavior_in_animals

I want to mention something about the Twinflame energy though…

When Twinflames unite, it becomes their karmic calling to elevate humanity and themselves through ART/ SERVICE and such things. Twinflames are ready to GIVE to us all, to the collective and that is the best thing about looking for and finding this person. Somehow this is an unspoken agreement between the two souls before they incarnate and it is beautiful to watch.

Remember Twinflames have to work through their separate baggage as well. After their separation, they have interacted with other souls. Some of these souls are from the original 144.

https://mywritestuffblog.wordpress.com/2017/05/21/twinflames-and-soulmates-how-to-identify-them/

https://mywritestuffblog.wordpress.com/2017/04/25/the-twin-flame-phenomenon/

Read these two articles, might make things clearer.

So as I was saying, that Twinflames have to wrap up all the karma with the rest of the SOUL TRIBE. Most people land up marrying people from their soul group. It’s the same story with same sex couples.

Oh the most important thing that I am observing now is that Twinflames are incarnating into different races. Why? To bring in the Sixth race(not colour of the skin). According to Blavatsky the sixth subrace of the Aryan root race will begin to evolve in the area of the United States in the early 21st century and those humans will look nothing like us. Races as we know it will disappear.

The sixth or Australo-American sub-race will “possess certain psychic powers, and for this the pituitary body will be developed, thus giving an additional sense, that of cognizing astral emotions in the ordinary waking consciousness. We may say that in general the sixth sub-race will bring in wisdom and intuition, blending all that is best in the intelligence of the fifth subrace and the emotion of the fourth.”

Twinflames are here to learn about UNCONDITIONAL LOVE and experience life with maximum intensity. It is that intensity some of us seek.

So I wrap up here. The message is simple. If you are gay/lesbo, and if you are into the whole twinflame thingy, then let no one discourage you because you are not a hetero. You too can tap into this vibe, but it is not easy.

I provide support and counselling to gay/lesbo couples, so ping me if you need to talk.

I have helped many come to terms with being gay and this has helped them to come out. Yes I can be there for you.

Email me. tina@tinaheals.com

I plan to start a DATING PORTAL where I will help couples and people of all orientations to help find a mate. Support me if you like my ideas.

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Keep the love coming…maxresdefault (1)

 

 

 

The Plan ~~ A Novel by Tinaheals

Notes from the underground
The home of my dreams-

Soft fleeting tears.

Marigolds in bloom.

 

I do not know how I began to tell this story. Why did I begin? It is nothingness, a deformity in my subconscious. It is just a pointless pursuit. It began where I don’t know, but right now, I am sitting in front of a Policeman and a State sponsored Psychiatrist.

I know him- Rustom Mistry, yes, that’s his name, I can see the Faravahar glittering in the light. “It’s to remind me of my true purpose, at least that’s what my mom hopes.” He’d told her when she’d asked about it. The winged disk and the bearded human motif looked very appealing to me, but today it seems scary. The purpose of my life, it’s fucking over! Not even the Faravar can save me!

He is asking me all these questions, with a very stern face. But believe me; I cannot understand what he says. For the life of me, his words are a jumble. I am trying to answer, but nothing. My jaw muscles have gone on strike. It’s like I never knew the powers of speech. I am unable to communicate and totally enervated. Have you ever heard a singing bowl? The sound of it keeps reverberating in my mind, suddenly out pops the Tom and Jerry tune in my mind, some heavy programming by Disney!

I have been forced to shut down, just like when you hold the power switch of a computer and just manually shut it down, you do not take the trouble of performing a proper shut down. My consciousness is the black screen, the product of a forced shut down.

My wretched eyes see everything. Rustam’s impassive face. Yet, the trace of anxiety makes itself known, which he suppresses with dutiful vigour. I sense that I’m watching him as different Ninas. Complicated emotions are tormenting me.
Ting tong! The bell rang. I was dressed in this gorgeous little black number from Yves Saint Laurent, also boasted of wedged heels from the same make- black luxurious suede. I was waiting for him.
I opened the door. Dr. Misty stood there. Ah yes, he was complete with the clichéd bunch of roses in his hands-blood red ones. He was speaking as clear as a bell, trying to implore me with his eyes. He also said something to the effect that he had wanted me for very long, but never had the guts to speak up. He told me he thought about me and was becoming obsessive, like I was under his skin. A chance is what he wanted. He throws caution to the winds and hugs me. The next minute I am in his arms, his lips are on mine, trying to get inside my mouth, as if snaking in to touch my soul.
One of the Nina’s (I have many Nina’s inside of me, fuck!) look at his lips, those same one who were trying to part her lips, to explore her very being. Those lips were now moving, creating geometric shapes, like the shapes formed when a kid blows bubbles from that god-awful soapy liquid.
Evanescent worlds,

Like dews of dawn.

Ghosts in time.

So the shapes his mouth is now making also disintegrates like the transient bubbles. Nothing elucidates impermanence as this act of blowing spherical shapes in the air which disintegrate in a few seconds. Poof! They are gone. New worlds created and destroyed, at the blink of an eye-lid. The bubbles form words. He’s asking me why I am here.

Why is anybody here? There is seriousness to his voice as he asks me why I had gone to Lilavati last night? Obviously I did not reply. I could not. I was physically unable to. Trauma I think is what did it. “Can you tell me why you stabbed this man repeatedly?? You killed him…” he was shoving a picture of a smiling face in my hands.
I have on tight mini-skirts and leather boots that are a few inches above my knees, very dark and Gothic make-up and I have on a wig, a short trendy wig. I try to touch it. Someone watching me from afar would notice a shaky hand moving to touch the hairline with no definitive purpose. But the purpose was known to this man- Rustam. “Why do you have that on?” He asks pointing to the wig.
I sit silently, looking down at the blood drying on this super expensive pair of boots that I bought online from some German fantasy leather footwear company, as a gift for my sister. They were splendid in their craftsmanship- the Germans definitely know how to design and make things. Other words from his mouth also manage to surface briefly in my consciousness. Word association! I normally think of a word when I hear a word. One word brings about the memory of another and so on so forth. The story is never ending. This has been a most fascinating way to tend to burgeoning ideas. Words like “life-support system” made its way to my subconscious. A sting of incredible pain jolted me into nausea. I’m throwing up all over the table, my clothes my shoes, my heart rate through the ceiling, my body drenched in sweat.
Rustam signals to the police behind the mirror to send in lady constables. Two stout Marathi female cops burst into the scene with some medical aid. “Kai zala?” They lift me up, try to stuff water down my throat, wipe me up and revive me. But I almost faint, the pain is too oppressive. I would have preferred to be Mary Antoinette, marching to the guillotine.

Muffin, your softness is what I seek; where are you baby? Come to me, there’s nothing I need more than your purrs and rubs.
And then I saw his face.

 

The face of cobwebs,

Disintegrating like the quarks in an atom,

Of nothingness.
Rustam is looking at me and I think I know what’s going through his head. My beaming face, obviously enamoured by his intellect and sophistication, sitting in the first bench, listening to him talk about Jungian Collective Unconscious, yes that memory is surfacing in his mind. It was a less complicated time. We were infatuated with each other.
But now, everything has changed. Today he stands in front of me as an inquisitor and it’s a witch hunt. A murder! He is supposed to uncover the darkest depths of my mind to know how I could commit such a hideous crime. No sorry- Hideous crimes and now I sit as dead as a doornail.
Dr. Rustam Mistry will be questioned about his diagnosis. He will go with the catatonic stupor characterized by motoric immobility, mutism and catalepsy, followed by the rare bout of nausea, blah fucking bloo.
Frank came to meet me and my mind kept repeating, A hope which is now forever past…A love so sweet it could not last,
Was Time long past…it just broke my already broken heart.

The police officer informed Rustam about his arrival and was asked his professional advice on whether Frank and I could meet. He did consent to our meeting and was there right behind the mirror to observe every subtle emotion that was there or wasn’t there or the ones he just thought existed.
Jail or any form of detention centre is hardly the place for lovers to meet. But Frank just held my hands, kissed them so very tenderly and whispered something about star stuff contemplating the stars…it was a Sagan expression we both loved. Gorgeousity! Star stuff, contemplating star stuff…Malana cream and Sagan. Ah!
When I hear these words I am reminded of another life, in another world where

I remember saying that we are made up of star stuff and he took my chain of thought and elaborated on it. “We’re star stuff, contemplating star stuff…” “As above”, said I and before I could complete my sentence, he covered my mouth and completed, “So below”…for me. We kissed, long and deep, like a Russian Kiss which explored not just my physical body but ignited a fire in my soul, it lasted the whole night. That night was like an eternity!
Frank sobs softly. “I will not give up on you or us…” My heart sobs with him, but I am catatonic. I want to ask him about my cat, Muffin, a majestic British Blue male, two years old and my baby. I want to hold him in my arms, his purring body close to my heart as he nibbles my nose with affection. He is missing me. Two most important males in my life, both from the Great Britain. An irony? The Angrez have not lost their hold on us. Anglophiles formed the part of Bengali society I called my family.

The vilayat, complete with toilet papers to wipe your arse. Who cleans their arse with water? What savages? Don’t forget the knives and forks, eat with your hand and in a jiffy you’re the outcast, chi chi, eating with your hand, as if somehow the toxicity of the hands were confirmed and verified by science.

I’d seen this documentary on Satyajit Ray, where he speaks of how the Western world took to Pather Panchali. He spoke of how some American women had been forced to throw up after watching Indir Thakrun eating with her hands on screen. What a bunch of barbarians, thought the pretty, sophisticated mems.

Okay I might have even fought super hard to be this sexy, sophisticated Angrezi lassie, if so many people around me had not made it their lives’ mission.

They are everywhere, singing Psalms in Convents at the crack of dawn, wearing micro mini, chote chote mini skirts with tank tops, as if showing skin is a sign of emancipation from old oppressive customs; these creatures were allergic to anything that screamed desi, like vampires to sunlight.

Imported goods, imported bathroom fittings, imported brains?
It’s not that I refuse to answer Frank. Believe me, I want to. But my mouth just refuses to speak, my eyes just sank deep into their crevices, my tongue just hangs there like a limp rag; I feel my brain is losing control, like a general who loses his soldiers due to some internal mutiny. The general, my brain has lost power, its reign is over and each of the organs has taken control. But this time, they are not working in harmonious synchronization, they have developed individuality. Screw individuality! Each behaved in the way it wanted to. All they seem to want is to not respond. So there you go, there was no response to Frank’s entreaties. Was this real??? Frank’s face, his tears, Rustam’s face, his stern look- it feels like cardboard scenery, in fact I have the taste of saw dust in my mouth.

I want to thank Frank for caring after my boy Muffin; in a sense he is the be all and end all of my existence when it comes to matters of the heart, and the only male in my life for so long. Thousands of years ago, the Egyptians worshipped the cat in the form of Bastet, killing a cat was punished by death and if a cat died, it’s family would shave off their eyebrows; well, seems like cats have not forgotten that and my Muffin certainly deserves worship.
Anyway Rustam is watching!
Little does he know that a woman is looking to meet me, her name SAPNA VERMA, the wife of the man I had brutally stabbed to death. He had multiple lacerations, a punctured abdomen and his testicles were chopped off. Such gruesome acts were only seen on telly in serials, where you get to see how evidence is collected which ultimately points to the guilty, no matter how much camouflaged the identity of the killer is. My DNA was everywhere in the crime scene, the CSI guys would not break a sweat in proving that it was I who did it.
Anyway Sapna has walked up the Police Officer who’s called Rustam. I have to meet her, she said. Rustam’s apprehensive, but then he sees Frank exit my cell. Sapna follows his glance and instantly approaches Frank demanding to see me, this bloody witch who she would have gladly burnt at the stake.
She enters my cell. Her eyes confront the pale corpse in front, my practically lifeless body. I must say, a shocked expression registers on her face as she looks at me from head to toe. What is this phantasmal entity, she must be thinking. How did this weakling kill my husband? Little did she know that when your mind is set, you can achieve anything- nothing is out of reach? I could have killed him over and over again, a hundred, fuck it, a billion times if I had to. It was like the most important exam I had to take, an exam which would ensure my demotion in the karmic law.

Lines from my poem are swimming in my consciousness; as a writer, one has the ability to randomly switch off and travel to other realms. Yes, it’s officially true, we have super powers.
Dadu would not approve. He was the type of man who would not take a shot at the enemy even if his range was clear and the bullet would definitely find its mark. He was an obsolete man in this world, an outdated DOS operating system. He was more interested in questions like who am I? Where did I come from? He preferred to ponder on such things. Self enquiry, he called it. Dadu I was screaming, who am I? The answer rang loud and clear- a killer. I had killed a man.
Sapna is pale-faced looking at me. “Are you her friend?” She asks Frank hesitantly. Frank nods. I’m not looking at them, but I know exactly what’s happening. At that precise moment I’m observing a spider spin its web. Is it spinning the web to catch a prey? All webs are not spun only for nutritious titbits; some webs are spun as hobbies, as works of art. To create something without any utilitarian purpose, but to create just for the sake of creation! What’s the point of that?? Some common-sense lover would say. Nothing honestly. Right? Wait, I think I see a tiny movement in the web. Is there an insect? Or is it the wind? Or is it my fucking imagination.

Ah! Imagination! It’s what always got me in trouble at school.
I was reprimanded for having too much imagination! My skin crawls to think of the parent’s-teacher’s meetings that Dadu had been subjected to over the years. Sheer torture for both of us and of course for the teachers!

They were just trying to help me through life and look what happened! I went ahead and killed a man. How horrified they would be. I imagine my Algebra teacher, Miss. Kalpana, a hard martinet in her late 50’s on the witness box, telling the judge how she knew I will be in trouble some day. It’s her fault, it’s her imagination.
Imagination is the culprit.

Lines from my poems kept ringing in my ears. STOP!

Back from these lines assaulting my consciousness, poetry is truly my life breath. Only if reality could be poetry, then I might have had a chance to do it differently.
Anyway, by now the shock has transformed into anger. It’s quite amazing to note how humans can translate any emotion into a show of anger. I think it’s a shield they hide behind- ANGER! Anytime you are unsure of how to express yourself, just display anger. It’s safe and effective! You can block off the more painful introspective thought processes.
So Sapna Verma takes the easy way out, she opts for anger. She musters all her strength and strides up to me. After a stare at my impassive, immobile face for a few minutes, she can control herself no longer. The oppressive silence envelopes the room like a thick cloak as all wait with bated breath. Then a slap almost knocks me off balance, but somehow my body refuses to be floored. I have no clue how and why. I just sit there. The sound of the slap is unnerving to Frank and Rustam behind the supposed glass, watching everything. But I feel nothing. Then funnily enough I hear the chorus, “I feel numb,” yes U2, and I understood what numb means.
You go through life, learning new words, understanding their meanings, but actually you understand nothing. The words are nothing but words unless you have the pertinent experience stored away in the depths of your being, which leave permanent imprints on your brain and yes, then you understand the word. Not till then.

Rape, murder, death- all these are words which are very much a part of our regular vocabulary. But how far do we understand them? We honestly don’t. Ask the young college student what rape means; presuming she has never been violated, she will have only a vague understanding of the term, maybe from movies or books.

Mine was from Monika Belluci’s incredible performance in Irreversible. But ask a rape victim what that word means and you will be shocked at the difference of understanding. The same word, but completely different levels of comprehension! Experience is what makes us learn new words, not just simply by glancing at a Thesaurus, but by learning through life. I understand the words Death, rape and murder, they have closely associated themselves with me, like the hanger-on friend you simply want to avoid.
Sapna is breaking down, her anger dissipating as quickly as it had arrived. She comes really close to me; I can smell her Chanel 5 perfume and minty breath. “Why did you kill him?” She asks. Very predictable question! You already knew that was coming right? But get this; she then murmurs something totally unexpected. After a moment’s hesitation, she whispers, “I’m sorry…I know what happened…with your sister…” now this should have definitely instigated some reaction from me, she thinks. It did, in the subconscious. But consciously I’m fucked up, incapable of any expression. I sat like a chopped up tree log, destroyed and cut down. If you apply the crescograph on a chopped up log, it’ll be interesting to see what level of consciousness remains.
I felt like writing but my physical body was pretty much worthless.

Poetry will not erase this woman’s troubles and nor will it answer her questions. Will it? Is poetry even useful? Or is it as worthless as me?

Sapna is troubled about an image that plagued her mind. Her thoughts travel to a certain day when she had looked through a crack on the door panelling. She’d seen her husband on the floor, howling with immense pain. A newspaper lay crumpled by his side, which displayed a beautiful girl. But creases had formed on her face as the newspaper sat wrinkled, but the smile was infectious.

It’s bewildering for her to see the physical similarly between the haggard girl in front and the face in the newspaper, but there was a slight difference. Not to mention that the girl in the newspaper was smiling, brimming with life and this girl in front was as lifeless as a cadaver. Still that was not it. There’s something else and I might have been able to help her, if not for the mutiny of my organs. Ridiculous!
I think the stark imagery of her husband’s painful explosion that night is a bit too much for Sapna to handle. Her head begins to swim and she’s about to collapse. But Frank provides support, the rock solid man that he is. Sapna is thankful for this support and the warmth his huge frame provides that she just holds onto him, his aftershave wafting in the air, tinkling her nose. For a moment she forgets where she is, holding onto him seemed the most natural thing. And then the tears came, they breake the floodgates and storm in like huge tsunamis. Sapna’s outcry sounds like a hurt animal and then she says these words. “But why kill him??? You can’t take what you can’t give…only God can take a life…”
Naive humanity! Who is this anthropomorphized God? What kind of a God will intervene- he will create and then destroy! This idea never agreed with me, in fact it nauseated me, every time people spoke about God like “He” was their personal problem solver. Of course I indulged in that odd prayer or two before my results; they were like placebo. And remember God has to always be referred to as HE!
Dadu used to say that Bengalis are a matri-bhakta culture; to them the mother figure is as important as the father, if not more. God to me could not be a He or a She. This was crystal clear in my mind even as a child. I gave it a lot of thought, but nothing made sense.

Gradually I began to avoid the word God. God in the sense society spoke of the idea. Man cheapened this transcendental concept. It is beyond human understanding. With our dwarfed intellects we can never grasp this idea; it’s a waste to try. “Nothing in life is a waste,” another one of Dadu’s lines! Dadu, Dadu where are you? How come our times together ended? You would say, “Nothing ever ends and similarly nothing begins, it’s just your perception which keeps you chained to such ideas of beginnings and ends. You are eternity in yourself…”. I would do anything to lie in Dadu’s lap or cuddle Muffin.

I hear Dadu’s voice- it’s crystal clear, his smell wafts in my consciousness- Asatoma sadgamaya, tamo soma yotir gamaya, mrityrma amritam gamaya!!

These words they play with my consciousness, Dadu enunciates them so well, so crisp, and so effortless, it sounds divine. He said that Sanskrit was the language of the Gods and there was never a doubt in my mind when he spoke it. He made the language godly.

He spent much time explaining this shloka to me- from Unreal take me to the Real, from darkness take me to light, from death take me to immortality!

Everything about this situation my friend is unreal. No you do not understand, a murder, by my hands? It is unreal. I respect life; harming even a fly hurts me. It’s no charlatanism! I do not care if you don’t believe me, it’s not important, not trying to get you to come to my side, I’m just telling you of how things are, no embellishments, no B.S.

It was basenter dupur bela, a spring afternoon; we sat near Dadu, in our living room. It was a Sunday, a lazy Sunday. Dadu had a ritual with us; he’d read to us, from the Vedas, from the Tantra texts, the Upanishads and the Bhagavadgita and explained certain parts. Zeenia was less open to this idea as she grew older; she preferred to be on her phone or laptop.

Dadu did not scold her, forcing his opinions on people was not what he sought to do when he read to us from these ancient texts; he wanted us to be connected to our roots, discover what our ancestors had left behind.

I enjoyed his company immensely, his stories interested me on many levels and he brought out the different characters so vividly; this led me to form a fascination for the human psyche. Come to think of it, it shaped my future; I decided to take up psychology honours. My parents has both studied English in college; when I was a kid, I knew that I would probably end up studying it too, but eventually studying the human mind became an obsession.

Anyway, that afternoon it was the Bhagavadgita.

The lines ring loudly in my ears, but in it the concept of Arjuna having to kill all his relatives is what bothered me. But dadu, how can Arjuna kill all these people? Especially Bhishm, his gurudeva, and all his cousins? The thing that plays in my mind today is a question little Nina asked him, Dadu but how can anyone kill?

This question, it’s mocking me, this question’s alluring me, and it begins to take many forms, grotesque, grave, gruesome, until it begins to drive me crazy. All this angst in my mind, but if you look at me from afar, I’m carved in stone, an effigy created to be burned.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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Sagittarius Full Moon: 9th June, 2017~~ I want to break free~~

Tinaheals

“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?”
“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.”
“I don’t much care where –”
“Then it doesn’t matter which way you go.”
― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

Can we collectively resonate with this message please? Think about it as the Full Moon in the MUTABLE/YANG SIGN of SAGITTARIUS is bringing to illumination the fact that there is something beyond the Scorpio murkiness, there is something beyond the Gemini vacillations…there is an AIR OF ADVENTURE that Sag imbibes and it brings us closer to INNER EXPLORATION.

Painting is self-discovery(EXPLORATION). Every good artist paints what he is. ~~ Jackson Pollock

I hate the fact that we are so keen on discovering. Why can’t we just explore. What if Columbus did not fixate on “discovering” America, maybe then he could have just EXPLORED, like the…

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Twinflames and Soulmates: How to identify them~~

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“A soulmate is an ongoing connection with another individual that the soul picks up again in various times and places over lifetimes. We are attracted to another person at a soul level not because that person is our unique complement, but because by being with that individual, we are somehow provided with an impetus to become whole ourselves.”  — Edgar Cayce

I have already discussed this WHOLE that we must return to~~the return to INNOCENCE! This WHOLE has to be internalised as well, for without integrating the yin/yang polarities, there is little or no hope that you will meet your twinflame or soulmate! As much as Hollywood or Bollywood have you believe otherwise!

Venus direct in Aries is firing up some deep, deep yearnings inside of me and I am compelled to concentrate on this topic(besides you guys keep asking me to write more on this subject).

Recently I witnessed a really powerful love story take shape and I feel honoured to have worked with the lovely couple. Their joining together seemed so magical, even the ways their auras met. I realised they were twinflames! They are in the very small percentage of people who will meet their twinflames this incarnation, in the 5th race(We are in the 5th race according to HPB).The sixth and seventh race will herald in a moment when more of Twinflames will be incarnating together.

Look around you. Look at the magazines, the programmes on telly, the commercial films…what do you see? All I see is commercialising of sex and violence and throwing in a pinch of impossible romantic love that Hollywood has created. The devastating heterosexual treacherous psycho-somatic mindfuck!!! The disastrous DATING GAME!

The dating scene is just that! A mindfuck and everyday it gets a little worse. Where is the connection? Where is the depth of feeling? I mean wtf are we humans if we cannot feel feelings deeply.

You know in my channelling I have got a clear message- Humans are extremely complex emotional creatures. The depth and profundity of our emotions have many alien civilisations green with envy. They are intrigued by the whole gamut of human emotions. So humans, be proud of your feelings. Be receptive to your feelings. Feel deeply. Love deeply and fuck deeply.

A love story that touched my heart was of Jean Paul Sartre and Simone De Beauvoir. To Sartre, FREEDOM was everything so he wanted to be FREE from the bourgeoisie decorum of monogamy.  He said his relationship with Beauvoir was the best and most complete and equal relationship he could ever have with anyone.  It wasn’t about sex or intimacy, but rather about intellectual discussions and conversations on the vital decisions in their lives. Yes they had issues like all of us, but they decided to be CREATIVE and FREE in their love. They challenged each other intellectually and in all other ways. That is very Twinflame type of energy. Yes sex is important, but with the Twinflame energy, it is a part of the WHOLE.

The phrase soul mate, is as old as time(the meaning), but was first recorded in 1822, when the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge wrote in a letter, “To be happy in Married Life . . . you must have a Soul-mate.” Inexplicably, the term has skyrocketed in use since the 1980s and billions of dollars have been made and billion hearts broken over failed expectations of romantic love. We are romance junkies and we need that adrenal pumping right through our bodes, don’t we?

Most people I work with are interested in their love lives. Most of them want to know if X or Y is the one. Will they meet their soulmates? Will they fuck like rabbits under a full moon by the beach? 😉 Seriously people! That is what we are being sold- an impossible love story. Every love song, every love story, a small impossible universe of pain and bliss unto itself! We humans live for love(and pain too). As corny as that sounds!

Most of us yearn for this twinflame/soulmate connection, when we watch a perfect Sunset or listen to that track that somehow pumps our hearts and makes us transcend time and space to be with that mysterious person. It is an impossible yearning that has never ceased and may never cease as it is direct SOUL ENERGY. And why should it not be so? Love is the greatest cosmic force. The real love story between twinflames, not the stuff you see onscreen or in clubs. Modern relationships have become mere shells of what is possible and what once existed between the masculine and the feminine. We were EQUALS, in every way.

Love in all its manifestations is pure energy and sexual love is the very creator of our Universe- the male/female polarities have created this reality. I was just reading up about how Scientists have discovered this COLD SPOT in the Universe which may suggest that energy and information is lost when Universes collide with each other. Shocked?!?

Our Universe is only one in an infinite set which comprises the multiverse and in all of them exists a different version of you. Maybe in some Universe you are writing this while I am reading this. Yes it all sounds like fantasy, but this my dear friends is the reality.

In all of the infinite Universes you experience love and passion in different ways and there are 144 souls who incarnate together. This 144 is a part of a single unitary consciousness~ the BE-NESS.

Upon inaugurating an active period, says the Secret Doctrine, an expansion of this Divine essence from without inwardly and from within outwardly, occurs in obedience to eternal and immutable law, and the phenomenal or visible universe is the ultimate result of the long chain of cosmical forces thus progressively set in motion. In like manner, when the passive condition is resumed, a contraction of the Divine essence takes place, and the previous work of creation is gradually and progressively undone. The visible universe becomes disintegrated, its material dispersed; and ‘darkness’ solitary and alone, broods once more over the face of the ‘deep.’ To use a Metaphor from the Secret Books, which will convey the idea still more clearly, an out-breathing of the ‘unknown essence’ produces the world; and an inhalation causes it to disappear. This process has been going on from all eternity, and our present universe is but one of an infinite series, which had no beginning and will have no end.” ~~HPB

This Be-ness is the I AM ALL or the BRAHMAN of the Vedantins. From that manifests the I AM or the EGO which is symbolised by Narayan on the oceans of time and space. That is the Cosmic Purusha whose polarity is PRAKRITI or the MOTHER ESSENCE or MULAPRAKRITI. This divine MOTHER/FATHER is one of the oldest ARCHETYPES in our psyches. This Mother/Father then created 12,000 groups of souls into 144 souls each.

Each of these groupings contained 12 monads, with 12 soul extensions within each
monad. Thus creating the 144,000 Souls and their twin ray was over lighted for each
of the 12 monads that represented the 12 Rays of SPIRIT. Originally all
of these rays were ONE but then separated into the 12 for specificity. That is how we broke up lovelies….from our twinflames.

But no matter how dense this 3D reality may be, no matter how thick the veil is, some of us cannot help but wonder about this Twinflame connection. It is strong, it is potent and is you are developed psychically, then you can surely tune into these energies. I know I do. I feel him.

“…and when one of them meets the other half, the actual half of himself, whether he be a lover of youth or a lover of another sort, the pair are lost in an amazement of love and friendship and intimacy and one will not be out of the other’s sight, as I may say, even for a moment…”
― Plato, The Symposium

In his dialogue The Symposium, Plato has Aristophanes present a story about soulmates. Aristophanes states that humans originally had four arms, four legs, and a single head made of two faces. He continues that there were three genders: man, woman and the “Androgynous”. Each with two sets of genitalia with the Androgynous having both male and female genitalia. The men were children of the sun, the women were children of the earth and the Androgynous were children of the moon, which was born of the sun and earth. It is said that humans had great strength at the time and threatened to conquer the gods. The gods were then faced with the prospect of destroying the humans with lightning as they had done with the Titans but then they would lose the tributes given to the gods by humans. Zeus developed a creative solution by splitting humans in half as punishment for humanity’s pride and doubling the number of humans who would give tribute to the gods. These split humans were in utter misery to the point where they would not eat and would perish so Apollo had sewn them up and reconstituted their bodies with the navel being the only remnant hearkening back to their original form. Each human would then only have one set of genitalia and would forever long for his/her other half; the other half of his/her soul. It is said that when the two find each other, there is an unspoken understanding of one another, that they feel unified and would lie with each other in unity and would know no greater joy than that. ~~Wikipedia

See how pathetic the scenario is? This whole soulmate thing has us all fired up. Companies are selling products worth billions fuelling this dream of the impossibly perfect romance. We all want that newness, that thrill and adventure of a new love, we are truly love-junkies in these days of social media. We want our fix and we want it now.

Jean Paul Sartre argues that to possess something is to want to be united with it.  So the goal of love is to possess your lover, or put more nicely, to be united with your lover. It’s not about physical possession or power; it’s rather about possessing their consciousness.  You want to know that they would do anything for you, like betray their friends for you, steal for you or kill for you.  You don’t want to be just another object in the world, but the key to revealing the world for your lover. Sartre says this explains the joy of love: when you find justification of your life in your lover. But how can you find justification in your lover? This vicious cycle is why Sartre says LOVE IS DECEPTION. The way society has perceived of it. I could not agree more.

Twinflame love is anything but POSSESSION or DECEPTION!

But don’t be sad…reality is MAGICKAL and your soulmate exists, yes, your twinflame too and you can find them if you develop your psychic gifts with meditation and intention, ritual and magick.

Tell me have you ever locked eyes with someone and felt the life-force knocked out of you? Or have you seen someone online and felt that you have known them forever. You feel immensely attracted to them and you don’t know why. Have you felt that?

Okay I am not saying that every time you get attracted to someone, that you are meeting your soulmate. Sadly that is not the case. If you are in tune with your spiritual side and in touch with your INNER VOICE, then you may pay special attention if you feel extremely attracted to that someone. It has happened to people I know and for some it worked and for some it didn’t. So use your powers of discretion. I would not suggest you approach the person right away. Wait and watch.

There are certain signs that this person is indeed your Twinflame or Soulmate. What are those?

A profound sense of dejavu. Look for signs and symbols. Think of the colours and numbers. What do they mean? This sense of knowing this person is so overwhelming that you are left stunned. Don’t feel bad if it has not happened to you in such a profound manner, because not everyone will come across these strong karmic energies. A lot of these answers can be found with the placement of Ketu, Venus, Eris, Juno, Mars and you also need to see what planets occupy your fifth, seventh and eighth house.

Edgar Cayce said God created androgynous souls—equally male and female. Later theories postulate that the souls split into separate genders, perhaps because they incurred karma while playing around on the Earth, or “separation from God.” Over a number of reincarnations, each half seeks the other. When all karmic debt is purged, the two will fuse back together and return to the ultimate. ~~Wiki

This is why Twinflames incarnate. They have unfinished business which needs to be taken care of. They have to separate. Yes this separation is painful even if we are blissfully unaware. But it is real, to our souls. We feel it DEEP WITHIN.

“the two will become one flesh. So they are no longer two, but one flesh”. ~~GOSPEL OF MATTHEW

Everything is energy, so when two people feel attraction, there is a spike in energy. These “highs” will be like no highs you have felt, if you actually fuck your soulmate/Twinflame. The chemistry will set fire to the bed, I assure you that. But that is not the only sign.

There is a video I found online of performance Artist Marina

See the look on their eyes…pretty close to Twinflame vibes. What do you think? This left such an impact on me. The story of separation…the flux of life…nothing stays the same, everything changes.

Look I might try to type a thousand words to explain this psychic love connection, but believe me human words cannot explain the intricacies of such feelings. Words can never grasp all its complex and simple nuances. It is impossible.

Take this poem of Tagore for instance ~~

“Unending Love

I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times…
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,
In life after life, in age after age, forever.

Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, it’s age old pain,
It’s ancient tale of being apart or together.
As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,
Clad in the light of a pole-star, piercing the darkness of time.
You become an image of what is remembered forever.

You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount.
At the heart of time, love of one for another.
We have played along side millions of lovers,
Shared in the same shy sweetness of meeting,
the distressful tears of farewell,
Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever.

Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you
The love of all man’s days both past and forever:
Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life.
The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours –
And the songs of every poet past and forever.”
― Rabindranath Tagore, Selected Poems

Like this poem. Like meditation. It can only be felt. The Twinflame can only be felt and not from a superficial place, but from the very depth of your heart chakra.

Don’t expect this type of relationship to feed your ego, for it will do just the opposite. It will shatter your ego into smithereens and recreate you. Think of THE TOWER card of the MAJOR ARCANA. But some get caught in the lower vibrations and land up being stalkers and psycho exes. It is best to just surrender if you feel such a powerful force and that is the sweet surrender.

Speak to him/her if you can. But do not fret over someone if your feelings are not reciprocated. Remember thoughts are energy! You may be attaching yourself to that person uselessly and creating pointless karmic ties and debts that you do not need to. News Flash~~You may be calling a wrong number! That person is not your Twinflame!

If you are mature and still feel this deep vibe for someone, then do go ahead and make contact. As long as he is not married! lol! In most cases, the soulmate will be married. As ridiculous as it sounds, because most of us, if we ever do, will meet this person at a much later stage in life. We have to live, to love, to experience and then only can we identify this Twinflame connection.

Does that mean young people cannot meet their soulmates? They most surely can. But they have to be karmically ready for this you see.

According to spiritual teachers like Mark L. Prophet and Elizabeth Clare Prophet, it is not a soulmate that is one’s true love, perfect match, or literal other half as is often times imagined, but instead it is the twin flame that is one’s true love, perfect match or literal other half.  In The Ascended Masters on Soulmates and Twin Flames, the Prophet’s state that “if you really meditate at inner levels, you know that that relationship doesn’t go as high or is not as profound as the one with the person who is your direct counterpart—the twin flame you have known as your other self from the first moment of your creation.” ~~Wikipedia

Can you imagine the intensity of such a relationship? You have known your twinflame from that first MOMENT OF CREATION! How sublime is that!

The Greek philosopher Aristotle is quoted as saying “Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies”and the Zohar states that “Each soul and spirit prior to its entering into this world, consists of a male and female united into one being. When it descends on this earth the two parts separate and animate two different bodies. Like the ARDHANARISHWARA, the union of the binaries. That is how we exist with our Twinflames, as the joined Ardhanirishwara!

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So the concept is everywhere! With people from over the world. We humans think of the same things, yet we go to war! We all bleed when we are cut, but swords abound, not pens.

There is an aspect of Soulmates and Twinflames that bothers my Uranian rebellious spirit. Do we have FREE WILL when we choose to fall in love or is it just destiny? The soulmate is sometimes a forced concept to keep society believing in the impossible dreams Hollywood peddles. I wonder…

Is this soulmate/ twinflame thingy hurting society more than benefiting us?

Do not get caught up in petty emotions and feelings! This is just ONE UNIVERSE, one option, one story. There are INFINITE such Universes, there are INFINITE SUCH STORIES. And in each Universe you are thinking that this is the ONLY ONE TRUE REALITY! But it is not. Reality is INFINITE in its complexity.

Do not think that familiarity will breed contempt, for INTIMACY and ROMANCE can co-exist and this Twinflame love will typify that.

Look it is okay if your paths don’t cross this incarnation because it will, when you are ready. But not till then.

We all want deep relationships, tenderness and something profound, but we just don’t get it. Relationships have to be cultivated, it does not happen overnight.

I leave you with this last track….

Don’t know why, it elicits a primal emotion in me….so raw and so sexy…

Much more on Twinflames coming up at a later date. For now I am off to meditate…on what? What do you think? 😉

http://www.tinaheals.com

tina@tinaheals.com