The story of Hensman Anthony Firingi and Soudamini~~

Anthony Firingi
At a kavigaan

There are love stories and then there are LOVE STORIES. You have heard of Romeo and Juliet right? Two young lovers, star-crossed, die because of unwarranted hate between their families.

But today, I will tell you about a love story that is way more spiritual and revolutionary than Romeo and Juliet. In fact, it is one that has touched such a raw nerve in my heart that I strongly believe I have experienced this first-hand in some way.

The love story that I describe is not of two adolescents, but of two extremely spiritually developed people. They were twinflames here to raise the frequency of the people. But again, their love was destroyed by pure xenophobia, bigotry, racism and hate. This is a love story seldom told and it is now time for people from all over to see the beauty of this union where even the devastating tragedy that followed could not dim or lesson the love involved in any way.

He was born in Portugal in 1786 and came to Bengal with his father who was a merchant. Now before I delve into the story of this young Portuguese musician(he must have been into music because you do not start composing such tunes and sonnets if you were not into it  in some way), let me expose the story of my beloved country circa 1800.

India was the most coveted country that the European powers craved to dominate. The Spanish, the English, the French, the Dutch, the Danes and the Portuguese were all vying for power in respective states. We know how the English managed to drive every one away and pillage, plunder and rape India for over 200 years. That is another story…

Let me set the scene for you. Hensman Anthony, a young lad, came with his father, a Portuguese merchant to trade in the port city of Chandannagar which was called Farashdanga. The Portuguese were on their last legs as they were getting hardcore competition from the Dutch and the French. Eventually the Dutch lost the plot to the French by 1825. The French managed to hold onto India till about the very end, but the British were definitely the undisputed rulers of the subcontinent.

So this young Portuguese lad is anyway on hostile territory where his people and country are on their last legs. He is no powerful English Officer, he is just the son of some Portuguese trader. There is competition and aggression from the other Europeans and from such a turbulent historical period came one of the greatest Shakta tantrics who wrote and sang some of the most moving hymns to the Goddess Kali/Durga.

How is this possible? How did a Portuguese lad learn Bengali? Not in the rudimentary level, but good enough to compose complex and intense poems which he performed in kavigans. Kavigans were literally poetry face off. Two poets would go head-to-head and spout their philosophy and tunes. The crowd would decide who was the more woke guy and they felicitated him.

This tradition of bard-face-offs have been discovered in most societies. It is not a product of Comedy Central. lol. Firstly, Anthony’s father was just a merchant, well to do, maybe…but then again, just a merchant and he must have wanted the young man to follow in his footsteps, not become some freaky bard who sang in Bengali. Like seriously???

But Anthony was more interested to escape into the heart of pastoral Bengal where he would play his lute and listen to the local poets sing passionately to invoke the Goddess.

Something snaps in his brain as he pulls a chillum. He hears the lingering words of the poet Ramprasad’s Shyamasangeet and it tugged at his heart in ways he could not understand. He would spend much of his time with the poets and other yogis he discovered on his travels. He begins to meditate and do sadhana.

Anthony also begins to learn Bengali, a language he falls in love with. Now let me mention here, that Anthony’s Bengali had to be really as good as any literate Bengali poet’s, otherwise he would never be allowed or able to compete, let alone win a kavigan.

Here was a man who learnt a foreign language to the expertise of the local intellectuals. Not only that, he began to compete with them, finally wining his bout most of the times, even with the most famous poet Bholamoira.

Bengali’s are extremely picky about their language and they are never happy with a foreigner being better at it than most of them. Kinda like the French. No one can speak French better than a Frenchman. But when the kundalini awakens, all knowledge becomes available.

Anthony had lived countless lifetimes in the heart of pastoral Bengal and he knew everything about it. The Bengali Brahmins ridiculed him for dressing like them, made fun of his devotion to Kali, teased him about Jesus Christ and the Church, to which he responded by saying, There is no difference in Christ and Kali my brothers…

Hello! Wtf do you say to a man like that? How does a European get here? This is not easy let me remind you. I for one know a woman from London who has lived in Bombay for over thirty years and she can barely say five words of Hindi.

And this is not like learning the language in a University and taking exams, then returning to your country and publishing books from there. Ah what a great Orientalist! Nope. This is no internet certification that now you are a certified Bengali poet.

This was raw, this was life, this was reality. He not only stayed and worked in Bengal, but he excelled at what he did in a foreign country he chose to call home. He lived in Bengal, amidst the Bengali’s and composed some of the most touching Shakta poetry they had ever heard!

And Bengali Brahmins were a closed, snobbish, gated society who considered Europeans mlecchas or untouchables. They would not even let Anthony drink water in their houses. My peeps, this is the situation in which this young man not only awakened his kundalini, but also gave us one of the greatest spiritual love stories to treasure.

I learnt of Firingi Kalibari when I was a child. My grandmother told me and I remember how enchanted I was to listen about a Portuguese man compose these sonnets and poems in Bnegali to the Goddess Kali. It always moved me to tears.

It was much later that I discovered the true greatness of this man. Now back to a history lesson and it is pretty macabre.

In Bengal, we practised some deadly misogynistic rituals….let Wikipedia dose you up.

Sati or suttee is an obsolete funeral custom where a widow immolates herself on her husband’s pyre or commits suicide in another fashion shortly after her husband’s death..~WIKI

My peeps, in less than 1 percent cases, did the woman actually want to commit suicide, but she was forced. By societal constructs, by tradition, by women like her mothers and sisters, enablers of patriarchy themselves. It was coercion. Nothing else.

Sati was ultimately abolished because of Brahmin reformers like RAJA RAMMOHAN ROY, bless his soul as it is his birthday today. Do you see how society has been burning women in different cultures, under different pretences since time immemorial!

Why did Sati even exist you ask? Because these Brahmin women could not find husbands. They were only allowed to marry a Kulin Brahmin of Bengali origin. So me love, because of my surname Mukerji, 300 years ago, I might have been burnt on my dead husband’s pyre. Yes, I am born in a Brahmin family and this is what they have been doing to my mothers, sisters, aunts and grandmothers.

Most of these women were forced to marry a single Brahmin patriarch, because there were no Brahmin men available. Bengali Brahmin aristocratic women were not allowed to even gaze upon a Brahmin, say from UP or Bihar. Forget a European.

My grandmother tells me how some English officers would come to meet her father. The women were never allowed to even glance at a European man. They lived in a different segment of the house anyway called ANDARMAHAL. She told me that there was an Englishman called Robert who really liked her. I think he sent her a letter through her maidservant and of course, all hell broke loose.

Not that my grandmother would have even reciprocated. You see, for them European men were strange creatures whom they did not consider as mates. It was literally that simple.

I am harping on the time-frame so you get a good understanding of how dangerous it was for Anthony to fall in love with a Bengali widow during such turbulent times. This is way more dangerous than the Romeo Juliet saga.

Anthony saves Soudamini from self immolation and takes her to his place. Now after laying the groundwork, I do not need to stress how dangerous an action this is.

Most of the intellectuals are pissed as he is doing so well in his kavigan face-offs. How dare an upstart European sing hymns to the Goddess? How can he have any knowledge of the Goddess? He is a Christians. And then he goes and rescues a Brahmin Bengali woman.

There have been cases of rape and molestation when European men and Indian women have been concerned. But I think this was the first time, in recorded history, a Brahmin woman consensually began to live with a European man openly, not giving a fuck as to what the villagers have to say.

They were twinflames who dedicated their life to awakening the kundalini, practiced tanta and even worked on developing the kali temple together. Their sadhana deeped and gathered a small following. This was no interracial love story of today where any person can get married to anyone as long as it is legal and sanctified by a court.

But here, there was no court, no law to allow a Brahmin widow to remain at the side of her European lover/partner. Their lives were plagued by attacks from the conservatives.

In the kabiyan competitions, Anthony’s rival poets often brought up Soudamini’s name to taunt and ridicule him. It upset him tremendously, but he learnt to take in in his stride.

This was 1830’s or so, it is now 2017 and not much has changed. Even today, in India, you can get attacked if you are in love with a man from a different faith or caste or whatever. I shared a video recently of a Hindu girl attacked by a woman politician for falling in love with a Muslim. So as you see my love, nothing has really changed.

At least they don’t burn us any more openly and call it sati. They would if they could. After all we need to be chaste and if we are truly chaste and not little whores then the fire would not burn us, would it? What Sita had to go through centuries ago, is very much an active wound in our unconscious.

Anthony and Soudamini were blooming in their creative, spiritual love nest they had created. Anthony had composed the AGAMANI SONGS, for which he became noted and this is like synchronicity on steroids because these hymns were written to Goddess Durga as she comes to visit Earth from her heavenly abode.

Guess what my love. That time is now. Goddess Durga or the KUNDALINI has just stirred and she is making her ascent at this time as I type. The Bengali’s celebrate Durga Puja now and it is the most important festival for them.

The Agamani Songs are to be hymned now and I think the spirit of Hensman Anthony is urging me to tell you his story. He wants you too know how much he loved the woman they took from him.

The world is truly cruel.

His wife Saudamini was burnt to death, for being a widow and re-marrying Anthony, who was a foreigner. ~~Wiki

There, that’s what the Brahmin puritanical conservatives did. They burnt her and their ashram while he was away. He may have returned home from one of his biggest wins to see his whole reality and the love of his life burnt to crisp.

Ominous, isn’t it? Soudamini was pregnant.

This is what bigotry does. This is the scope of fanaticism. As we head into the new Era, let us consider this as a cautionary tale. Maybe they took this karma upon themselves to show us what hatred can do. But in this there is a message…

Even after three hundred years, a random blogger/lifecoach finds this story to tell you at this very precise point in time?!? It means that hate did not win. Ultimately it is their love that won. It is their spiritual mission that is still standing as the Firingi Kalibari where millions of Shakta’s go to invoke the kundalini.

Love wins all my Beloved…

Find a man who will love you like Anthony loved Soudamini. Love a man who will go against all establishment to join with you in sacred union. Or else stay single.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Eighth Dasamahavidya~~ Bagalamukhi~~Some musings!

There is an interesting story about the origin of Bagalamukhi, the eighth manifestation of the Divine Feminine.

Now time is broken up into different kalas to denote specific periods. During PURAKAL, there were extremely strong winds which denote chaos and confusion in the mind. Now to combat these winds which could potentially destroy all of creation, VISHNU, the GOD OF PRESERVATION began a strict penance to get answers. This was near some ancient river.

The reference behind the origin of Goddess Bagalamukhi is found in Svatantra Tantra. Once upon a time, a huge storm erupted over the Earth. As it threatened to destroy whole of the creation, all the gods assembled in the Saurashtra region. Goddess Bagalamukhi emerged from the ‘Haridra Sarovara’, and appeased by the prayers of the gods, calmed down the storm. You can see replica of ‘Haridra Sarovara’, as described in scriptures, at Peetambara Peetham, Datia, Madhya Pradesh, India.~~Wiki

But of course all this is ALLEGORY and PARABLE. Let us get to the metaphysics of it.

This means that the HIGHER SELF who is VISHNU aka KRISHNA in the BHAGAVADGITA began to awaken the kundalini with meditation. And after his sadhana was complete, he was blessed with the DEVI’S arrival from the ancient river. This symbolises the AWAKENING OF THE KUNDALINI and there she stood…the Goddess, as BAGALAMUKHI, the resplendent one!

When the kundalini awakens, she is truly resplendent!

As soon as the Goddess surfaces, the destructive winds quieten down. Again this symbolises the fact that as soon as the kundalini rises, there is no turbulence in the mind. The disturbing winds have been silenced! That is the power of the kundalini. She can break through this 3D awareness and take you to other dimensions.

However, there is another to the Goddess Dhumavati and Bagala in the PURANAS.

One day in Kailasha, Parvati approached Shiva to fetch her some food as he was ravenous. Now Shiva, like any other dude, took his own sweet time to get the food to her which is why she ate him. What is a girl to do right? Lol

There is great depth in this cannibalism. Parvati is the kundalini who wants to be fed meditation and spiritual awareness. Now Shiva who symbolises consciousness here, refused to feed all that to the Goddess or the Kundalini and in the process became the consumed.

If you do not feed your spiritual awakening, it will literally eat you up. As a human, as a soul. It will consume you with materialism and addictions of all kinds. And eventually you will be consumed.

Shiva is also the SUPRA CONSCIOUSNESS which is why Parvati’s body starts to decompose. This goes to show that the kundalini, which is the symbol of life needs the human body as much as the human needs the shakti of the kundalini. This links to the OBSERVERS PARADOX. This means that this reality is a hologram being projected from one unitary source. That is Shiva/Parvati or the two polarities. Call them what you want.

Now once she has turned black, Shiva tells her to remove her sindoor which means that she or the kundalini has now reached the crone stage. She is self sufficient, for she has consumed her Shiva. She does not require any balance of polarities, she has become one.

This is when the body turns to spirit, in higher dimensions. You do not need sexual union or a cock and a vagina. You do not need electrons and protons to repel one another for reality to be observed. You just need to realise your crone stage and take in your yang/yin. This is profound.

Dhumavati is the SEVENTH form of the Goddess or the Kundalini! The number seven is the spiritual path, the most unconventional path. Which is why DHUMAVATI sadhana is not done by just anyone. It can never be done at home. In fact, her beeja mantra can never even be uttered at home, or else catastrophe can happen. DHUMAVATI severs you from the samsara. Dhumavati means her form is of smoke which translate to she has NO FORM aja she is formless/timeless/space-less.

Her rituals and invocation can only be done in the charnel grounds.

Now the form of the eighth Goddess is BAGALAMUKHI who is in MANIMANDAPA which is located in AMRITASAGARA and is seated on a throne full of jewels. Jewels here signify spiritual wealth of the Kundalini which when awakened is seated on the metaphorical throne and we become Bagalamukhi.

BAGALAMUKHI is yellow.

In almost every culture yellow represents sunshine, happiness, and warmth. Yellow is the color most often associated with the deity in many religions (Hinduism and Ancient Egypt). Yellow is the color of traffic lights and signs indicating caution all over the world. ~~colormatters.com

It also represents clarity, purity,  freshness, happiness, positivity, clarity, energy, optimism, enlightenment, remembrance, intellect, honour, loyalty, and joy, but on the other, it represents cowardice and deceit and Bagala is the Goddess of reversals.

Bagalamukhi is also called Pitambaradevi or Brahmastra Roopini and she turns each thing into its opposite. She turns speech into silence, knowledge into ignorance, power into impotence, defeat into victory. She represents the knowledge whereby each thing must in time become its opposite. As the still point between dualities she allows us to master them. To see the failure hidden in success, the death hidden in life, or the joy hidden in sorrow are ways of contacting her reality. Bagalamukhi is the secret presence of the opposite wherein each thing is dissolved back into the Unborn and the Uncreated. ~~Wiki

Bagala is the shakti of Mars. The feminine or the yin or the kundalini shakti of Mars. Yes every planet in the tantra system has their devi or kundalini shakti.

In fact her invocation is the most comprehensive way to deal with any Mars afflictions or hard aspects. Believe me, without a strong Mars, it is impossible to move ahead and perform in this world.

Kamakhya Temple in Guwahati is considered to be the centre of Tantricism, where there is the presence of temples dedicated to the ten Mahavidyas. A few miles away from the Kamakhya Temple is the temple dedicated to the Goddess Bagalamukhi. I will explore Kamakhya in detail very soon in another article, but this is the very heart and Bengal and parts of the North where she is worshipped the most.

Baglamukhi is the eighth mahavidya, invoked for destruction of enmity, often mistaken for enemy. This is the Supreme divine force, believed to have been invoked by Lord Ram to destroy the demon Ravan with his descendants. ~~Wiki

And the saga of Rama and Ravana could only be dealt with after invoking the kundalini….

Much more coming up on all the dasamahavidyas…

http://www.tinaheals.com

 

 

 

 

Who is Ganesha?

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The whole idea of writing this piece came to me yesterday after someone from the US consulted with me. She had never heard of Ganesha, but when she heard ELEPHANT GOD, she kinda knew who I was referring to. I was explaining to her the INITIATION/START-UP ENERGY of this deity.

It caught me off guard because it is rare to find someone who has no clue of who Ganesha is, especially with the New Age movement. But apparently not…

So there I was explaining an impossible story to someone who had just seen him in a souvenir shop and knew nothing of the fact that GANESHA is a name given to the COSMIC RULE that governs all of existence from the tiniest quark to the largest galaxy cluster!

And my majestic Ganesha is no modern God, he is ancient…and does look weird maybe to people not used to him. But remember if you find him grotesque, then be aware that his stark grotesqueness is to remind you symbolically that NOTHING IS REAL. Appearances are ILLUSORY and TRUTH is never what you think it is.

He has a mouse as a companion which means that he has mastery of fear, indecision, anxiety and uncertainty and also control over beings of the subterranean worlds. His protruding belly does not signify his laziness…lol, no. No amount of plank will do it because IT SHOWS CONTENTMENT.

Historians believe that a prototype of Ganesha was worshipped in prehistoric times outside the Indian subcontinent in such faraway places as Afghanistan, Tibet, Mongolia, China, Java, Iran, Cambodia, Borneo, Japan and Mexico. Images of Ganesha were found in Afghanistan and also in Iran. The image of Ganesha found at Luristan in Iran dates back to 1200 BC to 1000 BC. Many Ganesha type idols were also found in Mexico from excavations and ancient temple ruins.

The story of the birth of Ganesha goes like this..

Shiva and Parvati were totally engrossed in making love for aeons. Then Shiva goes off to meditate. Parvati realise that she is all yucky and filthy. She scrapes the dirt from the skin of her body and creates a little baby boy!!! She leaves the boy guarding the door while she bathes. Now Shiva returns and this baby boy refuses to let him in! Shiva is so pissed off that he slices his head off!! OMG right?

Now Parvati comes out to see what just transpired and tells her man that this is their son. Shiva now has to save him as he sees Parvati breakdown for the boy. So he asks his chelas(helpers) to find him a head. But the head must be from someone who is sleeping with their head to the north. This is why in India it is inauspicious to sleep with your head to the North! You bet! Now these dudes scampered off and returned with the head of an ELEPHANT! WTF, right?

So Shiva then stuck this elephant head on the headless torso and voila Ganesha is born. As I was relating this story, I realised how freaking RIDICULOUS it sounded. I could see the woman’s face! She literally fell off her chair!

Myths my Beloved is never to be taken literally, they are for ELUCIDATION and EXPOSITION…BTW the PURANAS WERE NEVER MEANT TO BE PRINTED, they are ALLEGORICAL TALES, MEMORY CODE SYSTEMS which are revealed to the initiate only if she is ready…so here I am to explain what this means…

The symbol of DEAD SKIN of the Goddess~~what do you think that signifies?

A RESIDUE, a REMNANT, a REMAINDER of some sort of ATTACHMENT. The Goddess/shakti or the FEMININE PRINCIPLE can sometimes cling onto subtle energies she mothers. In Ganesha, the Goddess found someone to mother. SHIVA is the GREATEST YOGI and he might have sensed this excessive NEED TO MOTHER or an unhealthy attachment to the boy she created. Shakti is volatile and Shiva is SILENCE which is signified by him being under her. She is the ACTIVE PRINCIPLE and he, the PASSIVE.

SHIVA was called here to destroy this whole unhealthy attachment, but a true yogi will not destroy the VIKARA or the residue. That still is energy and SHIVA or the male potency decided to transform this residual energy. Look he could have incinerated Ganesha, right? But he decides to SEVER THE HEAD. The head is the symbol of the EGO, my peeps. As KRISHNA says…The HEAD is the ROOT…And, and, and…he uses a TRIDENT OR TRISHULA! The TRINITY! Sattva, Rajas, Tamas- the three gunas or the THREE NADIS- ida, pingala, sushumna.

Guṇa depending on the context means ‘string, thread or strand’, or ‘virtue, merit, excellence’, or ‘quality, peculiarity, attribute, property’. These three gunas are called: sattva (goodness, constructive, harmonious), rajas (passion, active, confused), and tamas (darkness, destructive, chaotic)..~wiki

If you take this ALLEGORY as a purely INTERNAL STORY, as in what is going on inside, then you will see how the DESIRES that convoluted our minds and form unhealthy attachments can only be severed by the TRIDENT or the admixture of the THREE GUNAS. We have to understand each QUALITY to transcend it.

The internal feminine/masculine polarities CANNOT be whirlpool of chaos, they have to be in harmony, which is why the internal SHIVA will HAVE TO RESURRECT GANESHA. Ganesha without the ANIMALISTIC ID or ego.

The internal SHIVA is logical and the internal PARVATI is emotional, just like a mommie. But to be an individual who vibrates in a high frequency, we have to be in touch with Shiva as much as Parvati. They must be in SACRED UNION, in yabyum!

This dirt with which she created him is MAYA, in its most superficial level and here the EGO or ID is all powerful. I have said that Ganesha is the muladhara chakra and he refuses Shiva the yogi a meeting with Parvati who is PURE KUNDALINI SHAKTI. If you do not master the MULADHARA you will never reach SAHASRARA. The TRIDENT here also signifies the IDA, PINGALA and SUSHUMNA, the three nadis of LAYA YOGA and in Vedantic parlance, the three gunas.

Shiva destroys the ego(SEVERS THE HEAD) and replaces it wisdom, allowing the union of Shakti/Shiva to take place. And presto, you have yourself enlightenment!

And now you ask me? WTF is up with the whole ELEPHANT thing?

My peeps, in ancient scriptures of Sanatan Dharma we associate the elephant with AWARENESS, MINDFULNESS, MEMORY, PATIENCE which Science has corroborated. elephants actually are super intelligent.

This easily explains why Ganesha must be invoked before praying to any deity. This SUPREME INTELLIGENCE that Ganesha has will be the GUIDING FORCE for any spiritual activity.

I read about this Scientist from Lebanon who used sonic mapping that caught the vibrational frequencies of the brain and what he found blew the world away! After these images were assimilated and studies, he discovered that the MEDULLA which is the doorway to the brain looks like GANESHA!! Are you freaking out?

He presented the enlarged image to the world which showed two big ears, a trunk and tusks. Now you see the symbolism and how correct the ancients were. Ganesha is the doorkeeper and if you invoke this youthful, playful masculine energy, then he will let SPIRITUAL WISDOM seep into your consciousness.

Ganesha my Beloved is the GRID KEEPER of your consciousness and is called VIGNA VINAYAK, remover of obstacles. But remember, these obstacles are in your mind.

Reminds me of the EIGHT OF SWORDS in Tarot.

Shivaites believe that Ganesha sits in the MULADHARA CHAKRA located at the base of the spinal cord and is responsible for spiralling our consciousness into higher dimensions. Seated in the muladhara chakra he acts as the gateway to the higher chakras and higher planes of consciousness.

According to Sakti Tantra, there are as many Ganeshas in the creation as there the letters of the alphabet. This suggests that this Ganesha energy exists in various planes, worlds and dimensions as the headboy of the ganas or groups of entities(gridworkers, energyworkers, lightworkers, all celestial beings) to guide them and lead them towards Siva/Shakti, the primordial ARDHANARISHWARA.

Ganesha is usually worshipped alone in the Vedic way, but we tantrics pray to him with his Shakti and call him Vallabha. The female aspect of Ganesha is also called Vinayaki, Surpakarni and Lambamekhala.

Today is a great day to INITIATE yourself with GANPATI INVOCATION into SPIRITUAL PRACTICES.

HRIM GUNG GANAPATAYA NAMOH NAMAHA

 

 

Kali, Kali, Kali

“DARKNESS ALONE FILLED THE BOUNDLESS ALL, FOR FATHER, MOTHER AND SON WERE ONCE MORE ONE, AND THE SON HAD NOT AWAKENED YET FOR THE NEW WHEEL, AND HIS PILGRIMAGE THEREON.” ~~HPB

KALI MANTRA FOR INVOCATION~~

Sarvamaṅgalamāṅgalyē śivē sarvārthasādhikē . śaraṇyē tryambakē gauri nārāyaṇi namō’stu tē. Oṃ jayantī mangala kālī bhadrakālī kapālinī . durgā ksamā śivā dhātrī svāhā svadhā namō’stu‍tē

The DARK GODDESS has been the anchor of my soul in the turbulent seas of samsara. My support system, my provocateur, my muse, my melancholia…I could go on forever, for she or that energy exists in everything, everyone and every experience.

Sometimes, tears stream down my face and I think that WHEN IS ENOUGH ENOUGH! Is there any end to my avaricious wants, desires and needs? After going through so much, so much pain, am I still not done wanting more? Everything dies. Everything vanishes. Everything fades away. Confronted with my own mortality, thoughts cease to function with the same effectiveness.

Kali, listen to me, and stop this torture. Put an end to this 3D illusion, you DARKNESS. And please, by DARK, I DO NOT MEAN EVIL!

HPB discusses DARKNESS “…in the sense of the Unmanifested and the Unknown as the opposite pole to manifestation, and that which falls under the possibility of speculation. … it is not Darkness as absence of Light, but as one incomprehensible primordial Principle, which, being Absoluteness itself, has for our intellectual perceptions neither form, colour, substantiality, nor anything that could be expressed by words.”

Even the BIBLE states, “darkness surrounds the pavilion” of God!

Absolute Light and Absolute Darkness are interchangeable terms, as are Absolute Consciousness and Absolute Unconsciousness. Duality is the very harmonics of this resonance!

Kali’s bosom is my place of retreat and I can feel her embrace as I look at the dark night around me. The night envelops me in her arms and it is none other than my DARK ONE. How can I love the FORCE OF TIME? That random abstract principle? I cannot. I can only think of her as Kali.

Being Bengali, you grow up with a healthy dose of everything Kali. And there I discovered some of the most precious gems in the form of verses written by a Mystical Poet in Bengal. His name was Rajanikanto. Those verses echoed every single thought of my six year old brain. I used to know them by heart at that age.

How could a child grasp, to some extent this LARGENESS OF EMOTION. This gorgeousity of devotional fervour! I mean how? I don’t know. Even today I am perplexed. All I remember is locking myself in the room, listening to the cassette tapes again and again, sobbing my eyes out. It was like every word pricked my consciousness to remind me of WHO I AM.

Who am I? Who is Kali? What is this world? Why are we here?

See I bifurcate again. I was talking about those mystical verses. In one of them, the poet has written…

No one on Earth loves.

In fact, this Earth does not know how to love.

Take me away, to where there is only LOVE.

My heart craves for such a place…

Got me evaluating at a very young age. What does LOVE mean in the 3D realm of duality?

Seriously guys…what the fuck does love mean?

What does it mean to you? What does it mean to your family?

Who do you extend that love to?

The answers to these questions fester like putrid stuff in the quagmire of my mind. There is no resolution for there is no love. LOVE IS LOST.

Kali has taught me how to LOVE. By making sure that I break my conscious paradigm again and again, she has made sure that I AM LEFT WITH NO OPTION TO LOVE.

To be a child of Kāli, Rāmprasād asserts, is to be denied of earthly delights and pleasures. Kāli is said to refrain from giving that which is expected, I quote from Wiki, but trust me I know exactly what this means.

After making sure that nothing goes the way I want, Kali made me see that DESIRE IS INDEED THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL. Does that mean that I have no desires? I still do, the stupid 3D being that I am. Everyday is a lesson learnt. Life is not what I want it to be, because life is just the way it is meant to be.

Didn’t Lao Tsu try to drill this ACCEPTANCE part of existence into our collective consciousness? He failed. Human know nothing about acceptance. And I speak of myself…can I truly JUST BE? Think about it. A state of JUST BEING does not equate to a state of NON BEING.

Of course I will initiate karma in this world as my desires push me to, but then I have to accept that there will be DISAPPOINTMENTS and Kali showed me how to grow from that disappointment. All this pain, resentment and anger inside me, she, the COSMIC MOTHER soothed away. Like only mothers can. Who will stand up for this?

The father can never calm the baby the way a mother can. After all, it is her physiology that creates the child. The father is the seed. The MILKY WAY is a mother BTW. Yes she is feminine.

The Milky Way (feminine) and Andromeda (masculine) are simply a galactic expression of this principal. ~~http://moonbirdblog.com

They are the SHIVA/SHAKTI as galaxies. Whoa! Something to ponder about.

Yet, why is there rampant patriarchy ruling the Earth when indeed, she is feminine, just like her mother, the Milky Way. That is the imbalance.

Kali is the unrestrained, most secretive feminine principle that carries withing it eternal mysteries of fertility, magic, death, birth and regeneration! And that POWER is external as well as internal. Do not believe me? Everyone has an internal Kali. It is true.

AS ABOVE SO BELOW

In those mystical verses, the Poet sings…

Everything happens because you will it so,

You are the Will of the Universe, Oh Tara,

You execute whatever needs to be executed through me.

And the foolish think, it is my feat!

It is your INTERNAL KALI, that PRIMEVAL, CATACLYSMIC, SUPREME POWER that does what you need to do. Your karma or actions all arise from a deep spiritual unconscious that is manifested in 3D from the etheric fields as they SOLIDIFY.

Yes SPIRITUAL UNIVERSES solidify and become dense. That is when Universal forces of SHIVA/KALI come to play. And it is these forces that play through everything. The ETERNAL TWINFLAMES creating Universes to experience, grow, love, hurt, cry and die. Shiva/Shakti as mere mortals. As you and me.

This age is in dire need of Kali’s benevolence…OF HER DARK FORM.

“THE SEVEN SONS WERE NOT YET BORN FROM THE WEB OF LIGHT. DARKNESS ALONE WAS FATHER-MOTHER, SVABHAVAT; AND SVABHAVAT WAS IN DARKNESS.” ~~HPB

Do not be fearful of her wrathful emanation! Nobody understands Kali.

There is so much DISTORTION in her myths, so much SENSATIONAL YELLOW JOURNALISM done on her person(sounds familiar? Like any other woman),, that her story is lost to the world of patriarchy.

People are fearful of her. Even today, in India, I have had people see her image on the wall and comment how it is DANGEROUS to keep an image of her at home. I mean is every single Bengali household doing it wrong? Kali, whether she is worshipped or whether she hangs as a feminist symbol, can be seen pretty much in every house in Calcutta.

She is a part of our History. She is our guide. She is our mother. She is our consciousness.

Kali is ALL-CONQUERING! So whatever it is that you want to win over, there is no better YIDAM or meditation deity than her. So invoke her if you need to work with this SEVERANCE energy.

Kali is not a Vedic Goddess. She is a tantric Goddess and she is MAHAMAYA, the manifested reality. She stands on KALA, or ETERNAL TIME and become SPACE.

Space is dark, Kali is dark.

Kālī is the feminine form of kālam (“black, dark coloured”). Kālī also shares the meaning of “time” or “the fullness of time” with the masculine noun “kāla”—and by extension, time as “changing aspect of nature that bring things to life or death.” Other names include Kālarātri(“the black night”), and Kālikā (“the black one”).

The homonymous kāla, “appointed time”, which depending on context can mean “death”, is distinct from kāla “black”, but became associated through popular etymology. ~~WIKI

Tantra texts call KALI, KALASHAKTI, the REASON OF CAUSATION!

There is no stop to this play, this eternal play that is going on between the masculine and the feminine. They stop not for a moment. For if they stopped their exchange of energy, everything ceases to be. Nothing remains.

This HOLOGRAM, stacked UNIVERSES, Daughter Universes…everything manifests because of SHIVA/SHAKTI. Call them what you like! They are the binary!

The Kalikula (family of Kali) form of Shaktism is most dominant in Nepal, northern and eastern India, and is most widely prevalent in West Bengal, Assam, Bihar and Odisha, as well as parts of Maharashtra, Bangladesh and some parts of Kerala. Kalikula lineages focus upon the Devi as the source of wisdom (vidya) and liberation (moksha). They generally stand “in opposition to the brahmanic tradition,” which they view as “overly conservative and denying the experiential part of religion.” ~~WIKI

Kali is the principle deity. So you see, how she has been up in arms against the patriarchal Vedic religion which even denied women the right to become priests.

My Ancestors have a special connection to Kali other than just being from Bengal. My grandmother comes from a family which were the main Brahmin Priests and caregivers of Kali and her temple in Calcutta. They were Haldars and there is a street named after my ancestor. Everyone knows the HALDARS even today and our connection to the place is also no secret.

My grandmother’s grandmother used to take a dip in the Ganges first thing in the morning(crack of dawn) and open the temple with the aarthi. I have so many stories from my grandmother that I wish to share. Stuff she heard from her grandmother. And then of course what bonded us was the love we shared for Kali. It stretched across generations and mitochondrial DNA. So standing before you, a Priestess of the hoary past…:)

I will continue my saga of love for my DARK ONE and I suggest to you that if you have not researched her, then please do. See for yourself, if the DARK ONE speaks to you and let me know.

I will speak of Bamakhyapa, Ramnath Aghori, Paramhamsa Vishuddhananda and of course Sarada ma, Vivekananda and much more…but for now I leave you with a profound thought from the Sage Ramakrishna…

Kali is none other than Brahman. That which is called Brahman is really Kali. She is the Primal Energy. When that Energy remains inactive, I call It Brahman, and when It creates, preserves, or destroys, I call It Shakti or Kali. What you call Brahman I call Kali. Brahman and Kali are not different. They are like fire and its power to burn: if one thinks of fire one must think of its power to burn. If one recognises Kali one must also recognise Brahman; again, if one recognises Brahman one must recognise Kali. Brahman and Its Power are identical. It is Brahman whom I address as Shakti or Kali.

 

 

 

The Plan~~A Novel by Tinaheals

 

Help me Publish!!! Email ~ tina@tinaheals.com

http://www.tinaheals.com

Rajani and the twins moved from their gigantic ancestral home to a modest apartment,

He continued working, but had lost interest. Only two clients remained with him, the rest hired his son who now also usurped his office. So with a very modest salary he began to educate and care for his granddaughters. He became father and mother, friend and teacher; he became their anchor in the stormy sea of life.

It would be time for weekly nail cutting, ear cleaning, hair oiling sessions; amidst squeals and protests, he would pacify them singing, shohe na, shohe na, kande poranooo with dramatic eye movements and wild gestures, especially when they tried to tell him to stop, that had them rolling on the floor laughing.

Slowly but surely, the trio began to put the past behind them and move on. The girls taught him to laugh again, to live again; life had given him a second chance to bring up his two girls again, he just wished Sita could experience this life with him.
He took them to Benaras, BodhGaya, Hrishikesh and Haridwar; they went to so many places in their country, even remote ones where tourists don’t usually set foot.
They’d be lost in the world of Hanuman as he destroyed Lanka, they’d be crying as Ravana abducted Sita, they’d be deeply moved when Karna would be going to battle against Arjuna knowing he’d lose, they’d be fuming with anger when Duryodhana insulted Panchali and time would fly as dadu would read to them the Ramayana, the Mahabharata, the Bhagvadgita and other sacred texts. The way he could tell the story, the simplicity, yet, the profundity in them, deeply touched the girls. Even while imparting knowledge from the Upanishads, he tried to make it as palatable as possible for the children, tell me how do you explain Tat Tvam Asi to seven year olds, yet not only did he try, it’d be fair to say, he succeeded too.

He could see his daughter Mita in the girls, different attributes of her visible in each girl.

He loved Nina’s poetry, she had rawness to her emotions, something primordial to the way she described reality even in that young age; surely poetry was to be her meditation and so it was.

The chotto ektakar shingara and the radhaballi,

Breathing furiously.

Inhabiting my Sundays, my frenemies.

She’d written this haiku, barely aged seven and it made him laugh. She’d captured something of Kolkata in those lines; she’d grabbed a slice of their times together as they strolled down Sarat Bose Road on sultry lazy Sundays.

It’s absolutely true that nowhere except Kolkata do you get that tiny shingara or samosa for one rupee, it has peas in it and the Bongs cannot have enough of it. And what of the Radhabollobi? Try it, you’ll see. You may get acidity, but it’ll be worth it, vouches every Bengali.

Rajani loved these girls like he had loved their mother, but being a very enlightened soul he treated them all alike, even Arunava, but at times he was left wondering as to where he went wrong with that one. But Mita was his pet; he had a special soft corner in his heart for his eldest.

None had his spiritual depth except Mita and this bonded them immensely, every time he saw her, his heart wanted to embrace her. Khuku, he called her, his little girl and she was so much like him.

“Aye khuku aye…” he would play this song in the gramophone and Hemanta’s voice would flood the house.

She had his striking peaches and cream skin and almond shaped eyes like the goddess Durga, with abundant tresses swimming down to her knees and an hour-glass body which was as ageless as Time itself and looked like some Kumartuli’s sculptor was sculpting Maa Durga from clay. Shakkhat Maa Durga, people would comment.

Yes, she was breathtaking! Her intellect was sharp; she was thoughtful, critically questioning and deeply analytical. Many an afternoon was spent in discussing literature, philosophy, poetry and the scriptures of all religions. Her father enjoyed immensely the display of perspicacity while she explained some particular issue, idea or philosophy, her face shining red with passion and emotion. What radiance! Then she fell in love with Shubho at Scottish Church English honours class.
It was an exam. John Osborne’s play, “Look Back in Anger”, was the monster in question and 100 marks were at stake. Mita had not studied this play and her paper sat blank. She spotted Shubho in front scribbling away with immense concentration. She poked him a few times. He looked back and couldn’t take his eyes off her. In a state of suspended bliss, he handed her the paper. She took it with a squeal of laughter which thrilled him to the bone, and began to rewrite it in her words.
Now let’s fast forward, SHUBHO and MITA are married in Kartik purnima, the full moon beckoned a life of abundance and plenitude for them.

As Mita adorns Shubho’s neck with the baramala and the shubhodristi happens where they gaze into each other’s eyes, it’s like a dejavu. The breeze outside caresses his hair while he stands there looking at her, she’s carried on a piri by her brothers, uncles and cousins and her eyes are between two paan leaves and in that moment they both knew that no matter what life would bring it would be worth nothing without the other.

Mita gets pregnant which turns out to be pretty complicated with twins sharing the same amniotic sac and placenta, throughout the seven and a half months, she’s under strict supervision and spends much of her time reading, writing and talking to her daughters. During the course of her seven month pregnancy she almost dies twice and the lives of the twins are threatened, but she manages to trick fate into submission.

These girls, they had to see the sky wearing the bright blue cloak of a spring day, they had to experience the rain on their faces, caressing sometimes or slapping away, soft some days and as pokey as thorns on others. They had to see the cheetah run, they had to eat tangra macher jhol, oh, life in its complexity and multitudes had to be experienced by them, she thought.
Karma my dear friends had other plans. Mita and Shubho die tragically young, leaving behind only Rajani to take care of the twins. Their disappearance happened in Kedarnath temple during an annual pilgrimage they always undertook.
Rajani had to don the parent costume once again, this time for Nina and Zeenia and he was determined to play the role to perfection this time. As perfect as it could be! So now to get back to the story. Dadu is what Nina calls Rajani, the Bengali appellation for grandfather.
As she sits in front of this dead body, she thinks of her dadu. He would know what to do; he always knew what to do. Such were Nina’s thoughts. Delusion arises from anger, Dadu told her one day as she was furious with Joida, the Oriya driver who had not given her a minute to stand and chat with her friends after her Rabindra-sangeet class at Dakshini, to top it off he had the gall to speak rudely in front of them.

The dominoes fell,

The words like torrents

It was inevitable.

She’d written this haiku she remembered for the occasion.

Joida loved her as his own daughter and that was the excuse for the harsh treatment. She had almost wanted to slap Joida. But Dadu intervened. “Little one your mind is bewildered by delusion. You think that Joi is being pushy, but actually he is just trying to protect you. See, you lost your reasoning as your mind was bewildered…and one falls down, when reasoning is destroyed.” Dadu fell on the floor dramatically.
That made Nina smile even in her malaise as she sat in limbo, with dried blood on her hands. She deliberated with the thought of saying, “Out, damned spot,” but then decided against it. The dead body just lay there. Her hallucinations where he wakes up as some terrible ZOMBIE in a B-Grade film and chews her down bone by bone is funny, she observes. I can have funny thoughts, even in this scenario.
Then she notices that there were many parts of her, or no, there are many Nina’s inside of her, ambiguous and confused, each thinking that random thought while observing the others and then she notices that there is a Nina who’s also observing, but she has no thought as the others did, no opinion. She just watches. Not for the first time Nina could distinctly hear the separate voices- how diverge, how contradictory, how ironic were they, but this time there was a force to them that was lacking in the past. She tries to swallow, but her tongue sticks to her insides, parched and dry, it desperately needs some water.
The young housekeeping attendant is right outside Nina’s room and would have turned away, but a trickle of blood manages to seep outside. The attendant examines it carefully, and then thinks of what to do. Should he go and inform his supervisor? No he decides against it and taking a master key from his supply trolley, he puts it in the key hole and turns it.

The scene which greets his eyes chills him to the bone and a blood curdling scream escapes his lips shattering the quiet of the early morn. He looks ridiculous, scared out of his wits, barely coherent in his thoughts, he looked like a two year old who had seen a ghost in a Paranormal series on telly.
It’s Nina who surprises me. She didn’t even bat an eyelid at the shrill shriek. She just sits there, stares at her abyss. What did she see?? The abyss staring back??

the_twins-1382139739m

Image is not mine. Not my copyright.

Om Tare Tu Tare Ture Soha~~

tu15

Who is Tara? Tara is the second manifestation of the MOTHER MATRIX and a part of DASAMAHAVIDYA. She is also refereed to as BHAVATARINI, as in she helps cross over this samsaric ocean.

Each MAHAVIDYA or aspect of the DEVI is related to a planet. TARA rules over JUPITER, the planet of good luck and EXPANSION!

Tara is the very embodiment of LOVE and she is the very same as KALI and KAMAKHYA according to the YOGINI TANTRA.

In Tantric literature, there are three manifestations of Tara~~ Eka Jata, who manifests as Kaivalya(ULTIMATE PEACE) or unity with the Absolute; Ugra Tara, who protects us from the miseries of existence and Nila Saraswati, who imparts Jnana or knowledge.

Tara is the presiding Goddess of Speech and the Shakti of Hiranya Garba Saura Brahma. Hiranyagarbha being a Sanskrit compound meaning “the Golden Egg” or “the Egg of imperishable matter.”

In Hindu cosmology, it refers to “the golden egg or womb” from which the universe was born. In the Vedas and Brahmanas, Brahma is not named, and Hiranyagarbha was the source of all things. In the Manusamhita, Hiranyagarbha was Brahma, who divided the egg into two parts, the heavens and the earth.

H.P.B refers to Hiranyagarbha as the MUNDANE EGG, androgynous or non-dual, after which it was divided into Viraj and Vach, the male and female principles. The Secret Doctrine’s Stanzas of DZYAN state that the Hiranyagarbha is in itself triple (Hiranyagarbha, Sakti, Sankara, or Brahma, Vishnu and Siva).

Tara is the very essence of all THREE- the TRINITY! And will in time bring about SURYA PRALAYA.

Pralaya (devanāgarī: प्रलय) is a Sanskrit word that means “dissolution” or “melting away” (from laya: “to dissolve” and pra “away”). In Hinduism it refers to a period where the universe is in a state of non-existence, which happens when the three gunas or qualities of matter are in perfect balance. The idea of pralaya is part of a cyclic model of the universe (present in several Eastern philosophies as well as in Theosophy) where the cosmos is said to appear and disappear regularly within the Absolute Reality:

As the sun arises every morning on our objective horizon out of its (to us) subjective and antipodal space, so does the Universe emerge periodically on the plane of objectivity, issuing from that of subjectivity—the antipodes of the former. This is the “Cycle of Life.” And as the sun disappears from our horizon, so does the Universe disappear at regular periods, when the “Universal night” sets in. The Hindoos call such alternations the “Days and Nights of Brahma,” or the time of Manvantara and that of Pralaya (dissolution). The Westerns may call them Universal Days and Nights if they prefer.

~~Theosophy Wiki

What is a SURYA or SOLAR PRALAYA?

A solar pralaya comes when seven Planetary Chains have been accomplished:

Within one solar period (of a p[ralaya]. and m[anvantara].) occur seven such minor periods [rounds], in an ascending scale of progressive development. . . . The solar period [is composed] of 49 rounds.

~~Theosophy Wiki

While immersing oneself in Tara sadhana, you must remember that you are calling upon the ULTIMATE FEMININE MANIFESTATION OF POWER, therefore be prepared to immerse yourself in her literature and dhyana or meditation.

When Tara is invoked successfully, we can truly see ourselves as the GREAT EXPRESSION OF DIVINITY we truly are. Creativity is supercharged when she is awakened in our beings. It is believed that Vyasa who wrote the Vedas wanted to immerse himself in Tara worship.

He tried and he tried, to no avail. Therefore he travels to Mahachina(Tibet), met Shakyamuni Buddha(yes the ORIGINAL dude) and learnt to invoke Tara correctly. He worked on the eighteen Mahapuranas after invoking the Tara energy. It was her grace.

Tara is above Maya as she is the CREATRIX of it all. One can achieve all material success with her grace, but she is the GREAT LIBERATOR. As in she shows us the way out of this MAYA or the GREAT ILLUSION.

Tara is surrounded by eight Yoginis: Mahakali, Rudrani, Ugra, Bhima, Ghira, Bhramari, Maharatri and Bhairavi. The Hindu Mahavidya Goddess Tara figures prominently in Tibetian Bhuddhism- VAJRAYANA BUDDHISM.

No one can be certain as to who invoked Tara first- Bengal  or Tibet? In Bengal(where I come from, the very heart of Tantra) Mahavidya texts such as Mahabhagavata-purana and Brhaddharma-purana originated and the SHAKTA or devi worship is very much a part of our psyche. Bengal is one state which practices no FEMALE FOETICIDE as we see our daughters as expressions of the GODDESS.

Bengalis are true FEMININE ENERGY worshippers and we birthed many refined forms of Goddess worship. Tibetan Buddhism had twenty forms of Tara. Of this White and Green Tara are popular. OM TARE TU TARE TURE SOHA!

I love Tara with all my heart, whether she is in Hindu form or Buddhist. I practice a lot of Vajraya meditations, so Green and White Tara are my absolute favourites. Black Tara provides hardcore protection if you need that and Blue Tara is NILA SARASWATI, a very esoteric form of Saraswati and the PATRON OF ARTS.

I have been invoking TARA since I have been a child and she has never failed to interact with me. She does so through numbers, colours, scents, memories and sometimes dreams. She is my companion when I enter meditation and I never leave my bed without saying the Tara Gayatri.

Aum Tarawai cha vidmahe

Maha ugrawai dhimahi

Tanno devi prachodayat.

 

These devotional or Shakta songs dedicated to Tara have made me cry and laugh so many times. They have such deep meaning and such musings…SUBLIME!!!

SHREE TARA STOTRA

!! Ghora roope mahamaaye sarvashatruvashamkari
Bhaktebhyo varade devi traahi maam sharanaagatham !! (1)

!! Suraasuraarchite devi siddhagandharva sevithe 
jaadyapaapahare devi traahimaam sharanaagatham !! (2) 

!! Jattajoota samaayukthe lola jihvaanukaarini
druthabuddhikare devi traahi maam sharanaagatham !! (3)

!! Soumyaroope ghoraroope chandaroope namostute
srishttiroope namstubhyam traahi maam sharanaagatham !! (4)

!! Jadanaam jadathaam hamsi bakthaanam bakthavatsale
moodatha har me devi traahi maam sharanaagatham !! (5)

!! Hum humkaarmaye devi balihomapriye namah
ugratare namstubhyam traahi maam sharanaagatham !! (6)

!! Ashttamyaam cha chaturdashyaam navamyaam chaikamanasa
shannmaasaei siddhimaapnoti naatra kaarya vichaaranaa !! (7)

!! Budhim dehi yasho dehi kavitvam dehi dehi me
kubudhi har me devi traahi maam sharanaagatham !! (8)

!! Indraadi devisha vrindavandite karunaamayi
tare taradhinaadhaasye traahi maam sharanaagatham !! (9)

!! Mokshaarthim labathe moksham dhanaarthim danamaapnuyaat
vidhyaarthim labhate vidhyaam tarkavyaakaranaadikaam !! (10)

!! Idam stotram padedhyasthu saubhaghyam labhate nara
tasya shatru kshayam yaati mahapragya cha jaayate !! (`11)

!! Peedaayaam vaapi samgraame japye daane tadhaa bhaye
ya idam padathi stotram shubham tasya na samshaya !! (12)

!! Stotrennanena deveshi stutva devim sureshvareem
sarvaan kaamanavapnoti sarvavidyaanidhirbhavet !! (13)

!! Iti te kadhitam divyam stotram saarasvathapradam
asmaat parataram naasthim stotra tantre maheshvari !! (14)

Namaste!

http://www.tinaheals.com

tina@tinaheals.com

Prologue~The Plan, a novel by Tinaheals


Publishing parts of my novel…help me publish!!! Fund me!!!

Prologue

The hunger in her soul, the song in her eyes, and the vibration of her heart called out to me from the hologram.

What hologram? The one you exist in my friend!

It’s the cosmic television, like the one you stare at for hours every day. What else do you do when you return home from work after a long tedious day? TELEVISION na?

That same kind of television; imagine it in a slightly grander scale, nope, maybe not just slightly, imagine it to be grander on an unprecedented scale!

A cosmic television! Aha!

You experience me and your three dimensional space as you do images on the T.V.

Listen listen, at this level, everything there is, was or could be exists as a super-holographic sequence. Everything exists simultaneously. The albatross of doom over your head?

Forget that bird, listen carefully. These lines exist now and have always existed, in a sense I have always been talking to you, you in the hologram, me in it, sometimes out of it, nope I’m in it too; she is a hologram.

I don’t know quite how to explain it,

Something in her craving for truth, something in the way she depicted existence called out to me. A very abstract, unquantifiable sentiment entangled the abstract in me. Things don’t usually impact me as they do you.

I am myself an abstraction concretized!

This Book of Life and Death may give you some answers. Are you looking for answers? If not then bandh karo and chalo.

A story it will be, yes definitely! Let it oscillate in your mind. Let it do the disco dancing.

The ouroboros of a story, without a beginning or an end!  Now you’re confused. Don’t be it’s just a story or is it? But while observing this story, remember, I take the artistic liberty to leave anything out, the very subtle nuances, the finer intricacies are often not done justice with words; soak the emotions up, let them begin to ferment in your mind and sprout ideas, thoughts, actions like a bean when soaked in water overnight; such strangeness does exist and such a strange narrator may or may not.

Time, time, time, cut its throat,

Ambiguity personified.

Derelict dreams, dysfunctional dilemma.

In the beginning was the word and then I appeared as the silent witness of all this mess, , the frequencies or sound in the light and the vibrations or light in the sound.

Mighty civilizations have appeared and disappeared without a trace, Zeno’s paradox has been thought of, if everything has a place, then place must also have a place, yes or no, to ad infinitum; the megaliths of Puma Punku have been built but now lie scattered as shattered memories of a bygone past that no one knows anything of, the dinosaurs have roamed the Earth and have been destroyed on the Western Ghats, the Kumari Kandam was lost to the sea taking with it a chunk of land from what you call India, and of course emperors, maharajas, kings, Prime Ministers have been assassinated, dethroned under my watchful gaze.

Listen to this, it’s her poetry. These few lines she wrote that had this stark honest, raw and original feel to it, yes, it made sense in all the nonsense and it made me want to collect this in the Book of Life and Death.

The human body is the war ground of Kurukshetra,

Reality lies is the five senses,

I see you, I hear you, I feel you, I smell you and I taste you!

In the world of dreams there are no differences,

I still see you, I still hear you….you get the gist!

The dream world is full of thoughts,

They are like drops from an ink pen, falling blot after blot,

They are like smoke from an incense, here one minute, gone the next.

They are like lightning, you see it for a nano second,

They are like thunder; you hear it, loud and clear, but then just the sound of the rain.

I am vexed!

These thoughts, they are my defence, my escape, my dream.

It was her grandfather, a kriya yogi, one of Babaji’s very own crusaders, who told her this truism as she crunched autumn leaves under her feet; the sound thrilled her to the very bottom of her soul- crunch, crunch, crunch!

Yes the human body is the esoteric Kurukshetra, more on that later. Who is Babaji? Even I don’t know.

 

Think about it, think long and hard,

Of the fragments, the notes all jarred,

The way things are designed, the way things feel,

In reality, there are no eyes, no ears, no mouth, no tongue, and no touch!

Is this a little too much??

Only electrical stimuli interpreted by our brain,

Do not ridicule this concept, do not think it insane!

You’re definitely wondering how you got stuck in here? Reading these lines and for what…do not despair my friend, it’ll be well worth your time, just read on, enjoy a writer’s psychosis.

There is no material reality,

I am asleep, I am dreaming, I do not realize,

That all is just perception!

These words they create just the sensation, an awareness of stimulation!

Now I wake up from this dream,

I seriously think I have entered another one,

The so-called real life, I hear it scream!

What is this life, but a dream? Do not for one minute think that your dream world is any more real than this solid physical world you inhabit, in fact the Sun, the Moon and the real you are all hidden away; it is every bit as real, yet, unreal. Makes no sense, it probably never will, but just read on…sapna, sapna, sapna…

Now this, it seems as true as my dream world,

How am I to know the difference?

My reality is blurred, it swirls and twirls.

This world is nothing but a habit,

Our belief, our dogmas, our prejudice!

A futile edifice, a worthless emphasis, an abject sedative

Of Nothingness!!!

Form = emptiness, emptiness = form
Emptiness is not separate from form, form is not separate from emptiness…all is nothing and nothing is all.
Whatever is form is emptiness, whatever is emptiness is form, you know that the atom that you’re made of is empty, yes, my friend, mostly empty. Hulk-like we stay in the understanding that the body is solid, but it’s not.

 

The brain is not the Perceiver or the Perceived!

Who am I?

What is this world?

Who are you?

Who thinks these thoughts?

Who is this ME?

Who is writing these words?

To what avail?

 

I’m just a ghost in the machine,

An echo of an echo of an echo,

Reverberating through time and space!

Who is this seer?

Who contemplates this Universe to be unreal?

Who has all these thoughts in the head?

Only questions and never an answer!!!

A man and his thoughts are indefinable, and why so, because in the beginning he is nothing. His identity is shaped by what he can conceive of for himself; imagine all the poets and novelists creeping through the alleys in the urban atrocities looking for inspiration, staring at hollow faces coveting their neighbours meals or wives, the morbid fascination to see accidents, CSI shtyle. The flâneurie you take, to clear your mind, but there are questions and more questions…how is the human reality carved out from this nothingness?

Yoni shariram- the form appears from the vagina of Gaia,

Of Dharitri, of Zemia, of Erde, of Terre…

She is the mother, the sanctum sanctorum of creation.

This human body is the cause of such conflict,

There is segregation, separation and destruction,

In her very womb, we have been tricked by addicts of violence.

 

For a split second during meditation,

Comes the realization-

It is the Atman,

Matter has no self governing existence,

All things perceived, interpreted and seen,

Is a dream within a dream, a dream within a dream…?

 

The Indian subcontinent is the setting. It’s an oxymoron really- the youngest country, the oldest civilization!

The Sapta Sindhu is the beginning point in this case, then mutated to the India you see today the children of Lord Macauley, yes, you; at one point it was taken over by the East India Company, it’s holy books misinterpreted, unbridled fabrication of its history by so-called scholars who sought to assuage the Imperial agenda. The modern Indians, good little examples of Macauley’s vision; Pygmalion of the British Raj, just perfect, innit?

Bapuji Gandhi, assassinated, yup shot through the heart by Godse, GOD SAY?? Subhas Chandra Bose taken out of the equation, “Give me blood and I’ll give you freedom,” his naares did not do him much good, Delhi chalo, a flop show. The resilient cries of Vande Mataram drowned to the gunfire of the English army; what else could be expected? The British crown required the Kohinoor, which was just a drop in the pond, but you see why they had to control Bharata. Silks, spices, treasures, ancient texts, secrets, UFO anti-gravity technology and what not!

And then the finale- the unrestrained Anglicization of a country steeped in timeless tradition and time-honoured culture where every Indian was made to feel ashamed of their skin colour, clothing, customs, mores, literature, traditions, values and hoary heritage. Brownies were good as kerani, slaves, considering themselves as babus, who were created to suck up to their English civilized lords, the great white civilization.

Sycophants gathered in large numbers to appease the egos, fill up the stomachs and pockets and offer their heads and arses (maybe not literally, bloody buggers) in return to the Angrezi Babus. For what? Goods, ideas, concepts from vilayet! Aha! What amazing things they had and yes it was deemed to sell off the country piece by piece for these lovely things and for progress.(???)

 

The body of ancient Bharatvarsha hacked to create Pakistan and Bangladesh, its bleeding remains termed as secular India.

A new era began with the corporate takeover and rampant Americanization, you’re all living in America, HAARP and underwater nuclear detonations creating Tsunamis, the death industry of Macdonald’s and KFCs, fast food bhaiyaji, engineered famines with the Monsantos of the world, Islamic jehadis and Durga Vahinis, unrest and suspicion, religious intolerance and forced conversions, death and destruction, Nehru’s dynasty and Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi’s legacy of khadi and molestations, Congress under an Italian and BJP under the butcher of Gujarat as the country jostled and elbowed its way into the twenty-first century to sit at that table with the big white boys; witness, I was to it all and will continue to be….

The H-Bomb at work almost destroyed what you humans built, but do you seriously think this was first time in history that such a disaster occurred- nuclear weaponries have been used before in this very subcontinent. Yes my friend…Now I am become Death, the destroyer of world, yes Opperheimer, you can be the key to destruction of your world in your times. I have seen it happen and we’ve all been destroyed by it until another dawn awakens to the call of the creator. A new hologram is fractalized!
The watcher must now be a narrator and I must say it as I see it, Time for you right now is anthropomorphized.

Impatient kya boss? What about the story?? It’s coming, wait for it or you want it instantly. In this age of instant coffees and instant karmas, do you want an instant story as well?

Let’s do some akkar bakkar for a little bit more; arre don’t be so grumpy, chumpy. Humour me. Tick, tock, tick tock, it goes on and on in your psyche. Think hard, who am I?

Got it? Or no? Well…

You are in fact my slave, from the aam admi to the Prime Minister with his acche din slogans, from Mr. Mukesh Ambani cocooned in his billions of dollars Antilia, to the hungry beggar on the street. I rule your life, your little everyday existences.

I keep everything from happening at once. You can’t even imagine what chaos that is. Measuring me through the clock or your wrist watch all day, do you now know who I am, can you at least guess. I think you’ve got it, so do you know me?

But of you, I know all, every little detail.

Your little human condition, your little miseries, your tiny triumphs, your pathetic tears, your belly rumbling laughter, does have a way of making the world go round the Mulberry bush, you get the drift?

Well I have all the time, so let’s begin.

Funny concept, can time have time? Can an infinity be greater than another infinity? You smirk, but trust me the world is far magical than you have been made to believe, haan ji haan, sure it’s about cheque books and Kaun Banega Crorepati, but it’s also about altered states of consciousness, states you cannot ever envisage. Life is not about black and white or green and red, it is shades of colour you cannot ever hope to see with your eyes, life has colours you can never hope to smell, taste or touch. Yes colours can be felt in those ways, just not in your world! And in some worlds I am not as relevant as yours, and in some I have no relevance! I do not exist!

Do not go all freaked out on me, can you not imagine TIMELESSNESS; but it exists, I warn you, especially those OCD freaks out there, desperate to control everything.

Enough of meandering….
So who am I? Let me formally introduce myself. I am TIME and as promised I do have a story, a juggernaut of a story, an unstoppable monster and you’ll be forced to submit like wide-eyed little chunnu-munnus listening to your nanis at bedtime.
 

Twins. Rape. Murder.

Bollywood, breast augmentation, brainfart.

Poetess, plastic surgeon and the Sleeping Beauty.
Titillated?

Come on now, I know I have you! A violence-loving society like the one you’ve built starts salivating at all these contextual concepts when thrown at you. Murder is sweet, but mutilation is sweeter.

Blood and gore thrills you, outrageous humiliation of the body sends tingles through your spine, so stop this bourgeoisie sensitivity where you appear dismayed by such plots, but deep inside you can’t wait to curl up with your Sidney Sheldon! or Shobha De!! or Chetan Bhagat!!! by your bed side, reading about sex, rape, murder, call centres where Arun is called Aaron leading to a suppressed pathological schizophrenia, cheating on your spouse, wife swapping with keys and other new born urban atrocities.
It’s not every day that TIME tells you a story, a story about infinite probabilities.

A bit about me, saale, haramzade, time waste mat kar! A note in the Book of Life and Death!
I have existed for eternity. To you the word eternity probably will have some signifier, what can a finite mind grasp of the infinite?? Still I ask you to think about it. Think of something that never ends. Is that even possible, you ask?? The cogitation must never cease.

You think, therefore you exist, right??? Or you eat and defecate, therefore you exist, or is it copulation which cements your existence?

But what is the point of a process if it never ends; you will think to eternity about one question or be involved in sexual intercourse for all times(it’s not even a possibility) or eat yourself to death.

Does that mean you exist or not? Is it just the process of cogitation or copulation that makes you “exist” or is it the cogitative/copulative subject that’s important?

The journey or the result? A particle or a wave? Or a bubble?

Haramkhor time, procrastinating must have been my invention.
Mankind has managed to fall from an incredible level of sophistication to a dark age of barbarianism, like the age you’re an inhabitant of. It is a cycle- civilization and destruction!
Anyway, even though you did not exist, TIME was always already there! There is no escaping that idea.
I was born too you know, not as a babe from a mother’s womb, but as a concept from your mind.

To let you into a secret, I did not always exist. All I know is that this visible world is finite and periodical and so am I. I exist because of you.

I am born and then just like you gone with the wind; believe it or not, you and I are same in this way- WE ARE MORTAL!

This cycle of birth and death of TIME is the alpha and omega of recreating worlds. So in truth, you and I are finite, but IT, infinite.
A linear sequence of events is how you’d describe Time, but what happened when you were not there to count, the Big Bang baba? How did I exist?? So in a way, my dear friend, I exist in your memory and expectations, so essentially I live with you and die with you. Do not think this idea to be so far-fetched, even I can be put to death in your mind! Baap re baap, yes sir! I am fearful of my obliteration, of my extinction. I am born from you and I die with you.

I am your slave!
Well now I have your undivided attention to be sure. You humans love to know you are important in the equation. Am I right? But then you are, right?? God’s greatest creation. Hah!!
A plastic surgeon. A Poigant poetess, Phd student. A wannabe Bollywood starlet. No it’s not one of those haikus she writes.

Cadence of morning breeze-

Lofty silences-

A cup of tea.

Haikus she writes…
Yes I know Bollywood, the Bacchans, the Khans, the Kapoors, I hear the little whispers here and there, I see the deals done under the table, I know of the clandestine fornications in the back seats of SUVS, I know of which homes were wrecked by whom, and all the jazz! That’s some serious junk info. I’m the official knowitall bhai, for now I’m Mumbhai.

The Book of Life and Death is not a conventional book as you understand the definition, it is ever changing, an entity in itself, capable of conscious thoughts and feelings.
This story has come to my interest inumerous other worlds I inhabit.

Yes, you are there too and if I look, I will find you. The difference between you and them is that they know about these worlds, their consciousness shifts from one to one and they have observed me observing! Maybe it’s my imagination. In the many-worlds that exist, all the possible outcomes of a quantum interaction are realized.

You know all that you see around you, the world, the stars, your family, your lover, the Universe, it’s actually not just a Universe, and it’s actually a multiverse. Imagine the hairs on your skin, your world is one such hair on the body of abstract space, the evolvement happens in a deterministic style, embedding all thinkable possibilities within it.

So these twins- NINA and ZEENIA are moving through the arrow of time. They are moving to a fixed point, in one reality and to another point in a different world. Momentum and position are never constant, they’re all probabilities. But you get an omelette from an egg, not the other way round, the same way radio waves disperse from the antenna, never converge into it.
So now finally let’s cut to the chase and begin at the beginning. Not the conventional beginning point, but the very beginning of our story.
to be continued….

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