Technical Time-Out

FICTION







The other day I went visiting our man God, gawd what a waste of time that was, though I had it plenty with me. (By the way I am Chronos, the time itself; I would let you into all that dope later)

I had some trouble getting an entry to his place, had to play some cheap tricks to get through. The sentinels melted away after that.

The place was vast and somewhat blurry; I could not locate the guy nowhere. He was in hiding and would not come out.

Tring, tring. I said loudly.

I am Chronos, the time, so come out, or I would smoke you out of there, I have the whole US Treasury of time with me, so don’t expect me to leave before you come out.

Don’t play with that, he said springing up from his place of hiding; it belongs to the illuminati, that US Treasury thing.

He was somewhat flustered, all red in the face. I wondered at the alacrity with which he bounded out of there. The man was agile as a new born calf, he was practically skipping around the place in agitation.

You are playing with fire there boy. Don’t bring my ass into it, for god’s sake. I am having things difficult as it is.

Okay grand sire, won’t mention it again. I vouched.

Well he was what you call inscrutable; maybe he thought I was some kind of deicide. Not that I didn’t play a hand at it, everyone does nowadays, the dictates of fashion,you know, nothing else.

I did not want him out anyway; I have some love for the wizened bugger still.

All the same he seemed a little put out by my presence

Fuck, he said, is there ever an end of you!

Nope.

I had instructed the stupid’s to not let you in.

I winked at your angels; they thought that I am a weirdo and took to their heels.

He gave a short laugh

You didn’t seduce them did you?

They are hardly my type, besides I hate those wings being wrapped around me. Not that I didn’t try, that would have been out of character, wouldn’t it?

*Swami Sharanam. He said prayerfully.

Amen. I agreed.

He had become a little settled by now and stood still for a moment watching me. As always he was a bit unsure of me. I laughed.

All of them are neuter aren’t they? I said winking..

He colored. I rue the moment I made you.

His place was full of nice things. The guy seems to be a surrealist, everything was Daliesque, even the chairs and settees, the walls and carpets, and they felt fluffy, melting, made of clouds.

Nice place. I said, moving around. Movement was my thing.

Anyway I could not sit down; it was too uncertain a proposition, time sitting down! Besides how could you sit on lips and melting clocks, not that there were any real clocks, that were my domain, but everything appeared so vague and perishable.

The man was looking at me rather wistfully; maybe he was wishing me away. He had been reading Marcus Aurelius. It was a hard cover edition of Meditations.

Cool shit. I remarked pointing to it.

Pretty. He said morosely, hiding it behind. He was still not pleased with something.

Still ruing the moment? I asked.

He said nothing.

Anyway isn’t that a contradiction in terms? I mean, I being time and there being no moment before me?

He became somewhat non-plussed at that. The man hates thinking, I thought. His brows were as clear as the summer skies, not a wrinkle showing. Nice thoughtless existence. I don’t remember the last time I met a guy like that before.

Why did you come? He asked after a short difficult silence.

To talk matters over with you, why else?

That put him on a real grumpy mood.

None seem satisfied, he grumbled, with what I gave them.

He looked rather feminine at that moment.

The one thing in the world that pisses me off is such whining.

I taunted him:

You have gone and created an idiotic fantasy and now you complain when others are taking it seriously.

He was taken aback for a moment but then with characteristic cunning pleaded.

Don’t bring the roof down. Lets us have some peace and quiet for a change.

He winked at me this time, his face going all rosy. I was dumbfounded.

Peace and quiet, what the hell is the man talking about, I did not get the head and tail of it. I could not stay still for a second at someplace even if I had to. One needs to place oneself down somewhere to have peace and the other thing.

I went close to him and looked into his eyes.

You are not serious are you, grandad? Do you know the shit I am in; I am getting blamed for every dumb thing people do out there. The other day…….. Oh let it go. I am even called fate, can you imagine that? You seem to be having it pretty easy at the moment. None even remembers you.

He could barely disguise his pleasure at that. The man’s face was working as if somebody had morphed Charles Bronson’s mug on it. It was downright gruesome. His eyes rolled up as if thanking his stars.

You don’t say!

Don’t I? I said. Say I did. It’s the other guy who is getting worshipped down there.

That luminiferous ether of mine?

I shook my head, this guy, he is impossible.

You can make jokes about that?

He looked at me for minute and began to laugh. He laughed his heart out.

Oh he was so bombastic, that son of mine. Damn handsome too, no wonder they can’t resist him.

It gets you off the hook nicely isn’t it?

He tried to control his fit of laughter.

Anyway it doesn’t matter; the only trouble is guys like you.

Is that so? I want this resolved, I said hotly, I don’t want to push people off the edge, the other guy is too tricky , he is so glad that I am doing all the dirty work.

Hell, what you want me to do Chronos?

Do anything, spank reason into your retarded first born, drive him out of your temples like your other son did once.

Can’t do that, sorry!

You still love that dolt don’t you?

It’s not that Chronos, he stole my world from me, you let him do that. Bring the world back to me; I will make something out of it.

I thought long and hard on it. This man did not make the mugs in his own image, it was obvious he made them in the image of his first born, no wonder he is in hiding now when the truth has leaked out.

Where is the other son? I demanded. We don’t hear of him nowadays.

God choked.

Which son? Er…. Ahem…. there must be some mistake. What can I do if some call themselves that?

He began to bustle about busying himself with this and that.

You are a piece of work, granpa. You just admitted that he drove the wicked away from temples.

He now looked quite apoplectic and about to burst.

I did no such thing.

You did too.

You put words into my mouth. I only told you that I can’t cleanse the temples because my Luce stole it from me.

And that is not the same as saying the other son existed?

He grew all wise and tricky just then.

Think for yourself, what did I say, can I come and do the scavenging for you, you got enough hands and feet haven’t you?

He looked at me shrewdly and made himself scarce all of a sudden. He had me this time, the man is a riddle. He seemed to have become very wise too, out of the blue.

I was all bogged down. What in the hell did he mean about scavenging and hands and feet?

There was some light breaking into me from somewhere.

Then I heard somebody hollering.

Time out. Time out.

I was back in the running.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
* God Save Us

Nothing is important, nothing matters

(This seems rather representational, I don’t know why. Well who knows about such intricacies anyway! I for one sure don’t!)


I

Everything was as usual. My tummy had some drink and my lungs had some smoke.
Not that it was of any importance……

May be to her, she had spread herself on bed and I was not feeling anything
I had something that was not working.
Not that it was of any importance……..

The fan was howling
And her thighs were wet; I had just risen from there. I could see the nice fluffy part weaving the cosmos.
Not that it was of any importance. ……..

My bare ass was itching for the last half an hour. I had placed it on her silk shawl by chance
And yes it clawed and tore at my skin
Not that it was of any importance……..

My hands had played to scratch at it, they tried get to it unnoticed
And I would have none of that.
Not that it’s of any importance…….

The windows had no curtains, neither were they shut
It was none of your misty mornings; everything was clear.
Not that it was of any importance………..

Well may be to them who were passing
And noticing
And feeling something coursing through them like Hottentots….
Not that it was of any importance………..

II

Something/someone was clawing at the door
It could be her mother
Or a friend of mine
Not that it matters……..

She was chewing pan and slowly reaching for a spittoon
And I could see the fine line of her spine
She spat long and came up saying:
Are you done?
Not that it matters………..

I bellowed at her.
Did the windows ever have panes?
She laughed and tied her hair at the back.
That could be an answer?
Not that it matters…………

She turning, again was asking
You done?
Not that it matters…………

III

‘Police’ said a rattling voice
There were loud thuds on the door
Someone cried, something fell and a cat was mewing somewhere
Not that it was important……..

She seemed frightened
And rose from the bed all lithe and lovely, like a deer alarmed
I had come alive
Not that it was important……..

‘Jump out of the window, now’ she hissed
I grabbed her, wasn’t she in some danger?
She was surprised and it became as love in her eyes
Not that it was important……..

She led me to the window, wrapping me in bed-spread,
Clinging on to me as if for dear life
Not that it was important……..

The thuds now came loud with rough voices
Open up you (un-callable, unimaginable, unusable)
Not that it was important……..

She pushed me off, lightly brushing her pale breasts to my cheeks
They smelt of Vaseline
Not that it was important……..

IV

I came out of the trance
The middle of night was falling around me
And a soft breeze was mopping my sweat away.
I laughed.
(What does it matter to the world ………?)

No sigh escaped out of me
No pain I felt
Compassion there was nil
I was all bliss and joy (Oh the bliss, the bliss of being unconnected to everything ugly! Oh the sheer joy of being pure and pristine!)
Was I exultant? Or Jubilant, or Euphoric?
(What does it matter to the world ………?)

I rose and roared
I have had Nirvana
I am liberated, I have become the Buddha
I am free; I have been to hell and back
(What does it matter to the world ………?)

Stretching sweetly, I looked over the parapet into the dark alleyway beyond
Was there a grappling sound?
Was someone panting in the shades?
Did I hear a faint scream?
Pshaw, this is the nice neighborhood, I chided myself.
I smiled contentedly, reassured to my heart of hearts.
(What does it matter to the world ………?)

I descended leisurely into my heaven on earth,
To my to-do’s and what not to do’s
I never felt happier in life
I murmured as I went down the stairs
“This is the nice neighborhood …… Oh yes this is the nice…... and I have been enlightened!”
(What does it matter to the world ………?)

On Kamala Das, Madhavikutty and Suraiah

My heart is wrung with iron claws which speak of a hellish cold, I can’t breathe, I can’t move, I can’t think.

Oh what am I to do? The one soul I yearned to know has departed from the earth.

What should I call you, you dreamer of heavens, you chronicler of woes intemperate, you lover par excellence of humanity. Should I call you Suraiah, Madavikkutty, or Kamala Das?

Oh what does it matter now?

I never got to meet you, but did I know of any one more close to my heart?

I dreamed of being near you, sitting at your feet, looking at that beautiful and serene face, those dark and wonderful eyes….

Hearing that soft and childish voice speaking of the most inane of things,

And saying ‘yes mother’ whenever there was a pause.

I didn’t ever come did I? Even criminals came and sat at your feet. You touched them with your heart and fingers; they were like lambs before you.

You said:

I don’t think these boys raped and murdered any one, how could they do that, when I touch them it’s like I am touching my own children. They are so helpless.

How could you know anything about the world, you sweet dear, and how could you not know?

Oh how beautiful you really were.

But you thought you were not beautiful didn’t you, you silliest of all beings? You thought yourself dark and ungainly once, didn’t you, you timeless romantic?

Was there anyone more beautiful than you? Was there any being more charming than you?

You were perfect. No woman can be more beautiful than you.

Yours was a beauty otherworldly, yours was a beauty of soul, thou visitor of the heaven worlds.

What did they tell you when you went to those places in your dream states?

Did they chide you, did they make you cry, and did they call you graceless?

They wouldn’t have dared, not with me as your son.

Now when you go, go past them, go into the realm of love and peace that you couldn’t find here.

Go past HER that is eternal to HIM that is unbounded love. I know you were with him till that curious childishness took over you and brought you here.

You searched among our stupid systems to find true love, didn’t you? Oh dear, why did you not look inside, but you could not do that, could you, you were the nature itself.

How I riled against you for being inconstant in your choices, but nature can’t be constant can it?

Oh, thou eternal child, why did you come to visit us, we did not deserve your beauty, kindness and genius. We live here by cutting each other’s throats, raping each other’s mentally and physically, not thinking of love, not learning of love, thou lover infinite, why did you deign to be called human and to live amongst us,

You could make a tin drum sing like a lark, you could weave a web of mystery with the most prosaic of words. At your single touch words stood up and spoke in tones that we hear only in rarest of dreams.

You were Nonpareil, Undisputed……..

You were the real mistress of art. You could write like a goddess and then say,

I am a poor woman and I am living off my paintings now.

How it made me smile and to hear you say so…..

Only you could say it with candor that:

Aren’t we all liars, all that we write is a lie. The more beautiful the lies are, the more delighted we become.

You wondered: Why are these children so timid? Imagine you are writing the best literature ever, and it will be so. You know, I read pulp magazines, the serial stories they write, oh how beautifully they use words!

You divine enchantress, you mother literature, would there be any authority higher than you to say it.

Oh the beautiful lies that you wrote! There was never such as you in my language, even the greatest acknowledge that, yet none gave you any accolades. We are a heartless bunch; we don’t ever give credit to where it is due.

May be you felt it too at the end, maybe it was very tangible, maybe that’s why you left us.

In fright we ran to you and begged you:

Please don’t desert us; we love you, every one of us.

You told us that you would be back. Yes you are back now, in a shroud and in the chillness of death, you are back, in our midst, in our memories about the few words that you ever wrote, may be you would stay now forever,

And bless this most miserable of all people.

A badly crafted and wicked ghost story

(No old men including myself were hurt during the writing of the story.)

Disclaimer: Graphical events are described in the story. Hence reader discretion is advised. The author is not responsible for any untoward incidents which may arise out of its perusal. Old men, people with heart conditions, carrying women and children below 18 are advised to read it at their own discretion.


He must have been about eighty five and was still strong as an ox. Traces of his youth and beauty still remained with him. Some would call him handsome even at this age. His skin had not lost any of the freshness and glow of youth. He had all his teeth intact and they were still strong and white. May be he had become a little grey over the temples but even those stray hairs looked strong and wiry. He had been comfortable with his wife and had never bothered about love. Love? It’s a fancy word used by idiots who can’t get it up without a touch of imagination.

He had never used aphrodisiacs; everything was at his beck and call. His wife had loved him like a god without getting anything in return for a long time. She had grown old and wan in his service. He was very demanding and brutal in that regard. Of course they had little sex any more. But he was not bothered. There were house girls for fun and there was the technique of self-love if everything else failed.


He never had any qualms in indulging in it from the beginning itself. It made him calm and serene. It expelled the violence in him. There was a time when he used to do it a dozen times a day and that too late into his fifties. Now he doesn’t do it more than twice a day, while taking a bath in the morning and the evening. It was more like a medical examination, more to check his virility than anything else.

With all his great looks and physical strength girls were unfortunately short in supply for him. Somehow they sensed the total lack of sentiment in the man. He was completely at sea about it. He was also strangely unmindful of his personal beauty. If it came in handy good, if it did not well he was little bothered. Yet one could not rely on self-love every time, it’s not like the real thing. He resorted to devious methods to catch his prey. He had to work hard at it but he also had some success. Sometimes a little greasing of the palms of someone would make it easy.

On this day he was in the bath and had began the regular work-out without a care in the mind. He never needed any detailed visualization to do the thing. He had only to think of women in general and he would be alive and kicking. Not this time. It was as if the ship had anchored in the deepest of seas and the anchor got stuck somewhere down there. He could experience a deep hollow within his abdomen. It was a chasm he had never experienced in life.

He panicked. He could never remember an occasion where the thing had failed him.
He got hot and cold in the head. He had just got hold of a girl for household chores after the old one had left not being able to cope up. This girl was like honey. He had planned on beginning the assault that day.

Cursing everything including the god he jumped out of the bath.

He almost smashed into the new girl at the door. She was not watching him through any slits was she? The… the …..

He shouted at her:

Did you clean the cow shed, you no good?

The girl laughed and ran off exclaiming

What’s wrong with him all of a sudden!

He had to do something about it. His heart sank at the indignity of approaching a doctor to ask for help. Unlike the rest in his age group he did not consider other options at all. That did not even arise in his mind.

The doctor looked him many times over and asked him.

How old are you?

That‘s none of your business. He retorted angrily.

Grandpa, it is my business. I have to prescribe a stimulant for you. I need to know your age.

He did not mind the Grandpa thing. It has never bothered him. But he was reluctant to admit his age to anyone including himself.

60.

He murmured almost inaudibly.

The doctor sat up and took good hard look at him. He had heard quite clearly, he was used to hearing even murmurs from death beds. But the doctor very well knew that patients rarely told him the correct age. So he normally added ten years to it and arrived at the believable age of the patient. Here is guy who at seventy ………..

And you still want to ………

He saw his patient becoming livid in the face and desisted from further commenting on the propriety of it. He secretly wondered how these old bastards kept up a liking for the thing. He could not at his young age.

The wife hints every now and then.

We don’t go visiting our folks anymore!

He would freeze at that. When translated, it actually meant -we don’t do it often enough my dear man, a change of place might help like last time, who knows!

......Now our folk’s house in the country, it has plenty of space and peace and quiet.-

God how women hide a lot of meaning inside a simple sentence……….

He shuddered involuntarily.

These old guys, they are dynamite.

He put certain questions to make sure that the old lecher was not a heart patient and had no other illnesses which set on suddenly.

He advised as the old guy was leaving.

Be careful with it

Our man went home trumpeting like a whale. It took some trouble to convince the girl of the necessity of being secretive about it. But at last he was able to lure her into an old and empty pool at one end of his estate and was into the mood immediately. The prescription was working wonderfully.

Then something happened of which he had no recollection afterwards. He was suddenly not within his old and trusted body.

He was somewhere else, well not spatially, no; he was still at the old place.

But he could view two of him around now, one was lying on the ground face down and prostrate on top of the girl. That one was strangely not moving. The other one was him now, he had all the old urges in him still. He was still trying to grab the girl and continue with the interrupted effort. But the girl was otherwise occupied and was not minding him in the least. She was trying to throw his other body off her chest and could hardly help screeching in the attempt.

She hastily clamped her hand on her mouth and feverishly sat up gathering her cloths.

The dirty old fucker, she said panting. He doesn’t have sou with him too.

She spat in revulsion and hurriedly slouched off from the place.

His subtle body was still franticly trying to alternatively get back into the old carcass and run after the girl to make her come back…………

He levys at ese that frely levys

People may wonder why I have this fetish with freedom. If I had to answer that I may have to indulge in what some highly intelligent people now call my mystical bullshit.

Why bore them with that once again, so I would try to find something else instead. You may not be satisfied with this explanation all the same. You may find any number of holes in it. Holes are not bad, there are even the black holes they say, where whatever shit happens does not really happen. It eats up the time, the black hole.

Any way I am glad I am not the only one who likes this strange concept, not the black hole eating up time, its likeable, but this other thing called freedom. Look how John Barbour (d. 1395) goes about it.


“A! Fredome is a noble thing!
Fredome mays man to haiff liking;
Fredome all solace to man giffis,
He levys at ese that frely levys!”

Mark how he cutely he hums that last line. “He levys at ese that frely levys!” That is what is important, living at ease, without burdens, without the gnawing doubt that someone has stealthily intruded into your mind and has usurped your very self. Those were the times of comparative ease, oh yes there was the church with it’s strangle hold on the intellect and mind. They were burning nice girls (both young and old) at the stake and drinking up all that Smoky fragrance. Yet slavery had not become a fashion then as it is now.

A person could yet say “ Freedome mays man to haiff liking” and be not black listed and put under surveillance. You say something on the line now; you would have visitors all of a sudden.

“Didn’t we see you at +++ yesterday? What was the name of that man ++++?

Nice, he is good, he is brilliant. We are great admirers.”

Of course there won’t be any man other than in their feverish imagination, and we call these imbeciles normal.

You would be no more alone then onwards, you would be reverently followed everywhere. You have suddenly become a national treasure. What the establishment can’t take is this free spirit in man. Whenever it sees that, it feels threatened like a girl about to be brutally raped. It becomes stupid and raises a great hue and cry.

Liberty is something to be had as Barbour says, a necessary pre-requisite for it is freedom. It’s not of liberalism that he was speaking of, that was totally against freedom, that was limiting freedom to pissing in public and having sex outdoors. To Barbour it was of something innate, something we feel all the time and is a part of our existence.

“Freedome all solace to man giffis” . How can we not agree? There have always been efforts to snub the free spirit of man. That’s what makes Shelly say “I am a devoted enemy to religious, political, and domestic oppression” Shelly was all heart and feeling.

I can only echo his words:

“Shout aloud! Let every slave,
Crouching at Corruption's throne,
Start into a man”
(TO THE REPUBLICANS OF NORTH AMERICA.)

I think it’s stupid to discuss freedom from the stand point of the intellect, intellect cannot live without being entangled, it’s a slave to structure, it can’t get out of its subservience . So Let us discard the intellect and embrace emotions. Why do we feel that we are free internally? Do you think that it’s an aberration, a falsification of the true state of things? Why do the little children do what they like and not what we tell them to do. Where from comes this rebellious spirit.

I believe that this comes from the deepest core of our being. You can be an emergentist and still believe in this. If matter is evolving into higher forms one higher form could be this being that is free in mind, who can spread his mental wings and take off to any place in the universe. You might disprove me with your mathematical tables and complicated thought structures. You might even patronizingly say that, buddy, it’s so, we agree with you, to be done with me.

But this belief of mine is primary; I just can’t live without it. If I have to think that I am a remote controlled thingamabob I had rather end it all and be finished with that slavery once and for all. I can’t be internally controlled. I can’t be mentally manipulated. I assert my mental freedom; I would like to think the vilest thoughts on the greatest of people and the greatest thought on the vilest people in the world. I believe that is my sovereign right.

More about it later….

And would fain shed no more………..

As it fell my lot to be called nonsensical by the intelligent and my musings be termed utter nonsense’s I was readily immersed in gloom and saw a pall of melancholy descend in stealthy haste unto my poor soul. (Let me catch my breath!)

Yet I bade it welcome, being kindly even to the undeserving, saying:

Sad sir, why wouldst thou tarry, strike and smite me down ‘fore you sally.

Alas it seemed loath to do so, marking that me sometime otherwise doth fare,

Was one who had a merry soul and had eaten many a berry while still young,

That he had shed tears enough to drown even the doomsday fire.

And would fain shed no more………..

It grew lighter in my company

And one day left me saying:


“The joys of future years are past,
To-morrow's hopes have fled away;
Still let us love, and e'en at last
We shall be happy yesterday.”

_Punch


And much more besides:


ON THE ROAD

Said Folly to Wisdom,
"Pray, where are we going?"
Said Wisdom to Folly,
"There's no way of knowing."

Said Folly to Wisdom,
"Then what shall we do?"
Said Wisdom to Folly,
"I thought to ask you."

_Tudor Jenks


WILD FLOWERS

"Of what are you afraid, my child?" inquired the kindly teacher.
"Oh, sir! the flowers, they are wild," replied the timid creature.

_Peter Newell



SOME GEESE

Ev-er-y child who has the use
Of his sen-ses knows a goose.
See them un-der-neath the tree
Gath-er round the goose-girl's knee,
While she reads them by the hour
From the works of Scho-pen-hau-er.

How pa-tient-ly the geese at-tend!
But do they re-al-ly com-pre-hend
What Scho-pen-hau-er's driv-ing at?
Oh, not at all; but what of that?
Nei-ther do I; nei-ther does she;
And, for that mat-ter, nor does he.

_Oliver Herford



THE INVISIBLE BRIDGE

I'd Never Dare to Walk across
A Bridge I Could Not See;
For Quite afraid of Falling off,
I fear that I Should Be!

_Gelett Burgess



METAPHYSICS

Why and Wherefore set out one day
To hunt for a wild Negation.
They agreed to meet at a cool retreat
On the Point of Interrogation.

But the night was dark and they missed their mark,
And, driven well-nigh to distraction,
They lost their ways in a murky maze
Of utter abstruse abstraction.

Then they took a boat and were soon afloat
On a sea of Speculation,
But the sea grew rough, and their boat, though tough,
Was split into an Equation.

As they floundered about in the waves of doubt
Rose a fearful Hypothesis,
Who gibbered with glee as they sank in the sea,
And the last they saw was this:

On a rock-bound reef of Unbelief
There sat the wild Negation;
Then they sank once more and were washed ashore
At the Point of Interrogation.

_Oliver Herford

Controlling the techno-dunces

I think I have moved a little away from my main concern, that of helping my electronically harassed friend. Some might have guessed that I too have become involved in the process even if in a different way. All of it had started long before I even started this blog. It had to do with what I said on the shameless corruption in my office.

May be they wanted to control my outbursts; they tried even beaming me with their state of the art technology. They tried their best to make it work alright. The perps are a community the world over and help each other out. The moment they included me in their black list they got the tools to sound me out through their subliminals. Unfortunately I was not a novice in this genre of tricks.

I could easily beam some too if I really want to, though not in the techno-stupid style of the perps. I did not develop it to do this sort of thing. It comes as a natural gift as you bring your will under your control over the years. None of the perps who are around now have been to the places I have been to and back.

I have distaste for this sort of thing, not because I would accrue any bad Karma from it, to me such inanities do not exist; they would not trouble me in the least. Those who talk about Karma know nothing about the real nature of it. Even if they have read or heard it somewhere they would not understand it in the least. Not because they are stupid, but because they would refuse to believe in truth like the Englishman who saw the Giraffe for the first time and declared “I don’t believe it” So I would desist from going into anything of the sort here. Explaining them would not serve any useful purposes at all.

But there is something else in it, controlling others in effect blocks their free spirit from doing whatever they want to do in life. Even the evilest deeds are a sign of growth in a being. Some would not understand this too. It’s intricate and it would take some real reflection to grasp it all. Anyway if you curb this free spirit it takes away their individual freedom to act with their free will. That is worse than death. If they want to be perps let them be perps. I would only be careful not to let them have a free ride inside my brain.

This I do without mercy. When they tried to sound me through subliminals, I cooked up a subliminal sound file myself and played it on them with the woodpecker file I downloaded from Tom Bearden’s site. It seemed like a nice touch at the time. I looped it over many times and recorded the subliminals beneath it just fast enough to be heard and not slow enough to be glaringly obvious.

Of course I wanted them to notice that something of the sort is going on. In certain cases it’s the partially known which frightens the shit out of us rather than the unknown. Unknown is yet unrealized, it can be pushed aside, but not the known, it stays and stares.

Now the woodpecker noise is the most irritating one I have heard in a long while. The duds had to bear it for one thing and had to listen to the subliminals too. Well they had it coming. They started it with their cell phones, I pods and gizmos. I got angry, and I also had access to the records of my friend to form a view on what sort of things that they pump into you.

You know, the one advantage of having a cell phone is this- You can play anything anywhere and there is nothing others can do about it. This subliminal recording of mine had none of the algorithm Smirnov was talking about. It was just a subliminal file you can make with any of the free tools available on the net. It contained no trigger words or trance-inducing-beats at all, no alpha, theta, delta shit. Then why play it you may ask.

Well I had some other tricks up my sleeve and the sound file was just a ruse. As I told you I am no tyro in this ‘influencing others’ business. When one does Pranayama for years on end he acquires the talent to control prana in himself as well as in others. I had practiced intense concentration and meditation for long hours, had studied occultism for I don’t know how long. I did it all to get at the truth. But really there is no truth that way. There is only bondage.

Anyway I know a bit about how the subtle forces in nature actually work and I have enough understanding of them to make some of them work nicely- Pretty dangerous tricks to posses as I shall show you later.

You might want to know what I recorded in those subliminals. Here are some samples. They might look bizarre and cruel, but they were fashioned on those supplied by my affected friend, may be a little stronger, well you need to upstage the culprits. Anything goes in war and love as they say. The detailed versions of the ideas I used is followed by the bracketed ones containing the real version. Ideation is vital in any such business:

“Do you look into the mirror, you corrupt imbecile?”

(Ever look in mirror?”)

“Does shit bought by dirty money taste better?”

(Shit tastes better?)

“Say, what price would fetch your soul?”

(You bloody sell-soul)

“Would you sell your family off to the biggest bidder?

(You rotten pimp)

The list could go on. ideation is needed because when they hear the words their minds should search for their meaning, that’s what makes them hot and cold at the same time, the frantic search for the meaning of the terms. Why is he saying that? Why am I a sell-soul, pimp, shit eater? It’s this confusion that does the trick.

I can get pretty imaginative when I get a mood on. But this alone would not do as you can see. I needed to burn these into their brains and make them jump at them. That needed methods to bye-pass consciousness and its censoring features as those Russians mentioned in the site. I did not have Smirnov’s technology with me. So I had to improvise.

First you need to acquaint them with the words thoroughly to sensitize them to it as the perps themselves do in the case of others. Well I had the cell phone. I asked my friend to call me every now and then and would talk to him loudly interspersing my talk with the words in the subliminal text.

The talk would go like this, giving stress on the subliminal words.

“You don’t say! You actually saw him take the bribe? Does the slimy ass ‘ever look in the mirror’ (You need to tone the phrase up). He did that? Perhaps ‘shit tastes better’ (stronger tone). My god, these guys, they would ‘sell’ (strong tone) even their ‘souls’ (strong tone)”. Every word used in the subliminal text would have to be brought into their attention again and again.

That of course concluded the first part. The perps and those trained by the perps are hardened imbeciles and would be unfazed at such gimmicks. They would laugh it off. But as they say in the parables, a war is not won in a day. I had an action plan. I needed just to get the words across first.

Now begins the second phase. The woodpecker noise continues with subliminals in it and simultaneously I force my will on them taking them up one by one. There are subtle techniques for it and I won’t go into any details here. For one thing they won’t make it any clearer to you, for another even if anyone tries to imitate me it would take years to reach that level of effectiveness. Mental powers do not come easy; you need time, perseverance, hard work and above all luck to get there.

Then there are also checks and balances against acquiring them in the nature itself. They are pre-installed preventive measures to make sure that none would make use of such powers to harm others. Unless you are 100% certain that you are in the right and you know the dangers involved and the techniques to defend and fend of forces against you, you would be torn apart by the giant forces of nature itself. Every force that you make use of would turn on you and you would find yourselves with no place to hide and no one to save you.

I never had the occasion to make use of these before I had the tiff with perps because I had few enemies in life. I usually mind my affairs most of the time and let the others be; I am a little harsh with my tongue and can be quite acidic with words but the anger passes when the moment is past. I used not to hold grudges at all. I had done years of conscious projection of powerful thoughts on the welfare of the world. So I had little reason to act against any one.

Till the perps appeared in the world with their inanimate mechanical tools to destroy people’s minds the world worked pretty well by itself. Evil and good was there. They balanced each other and every one had their share of them. Every deed done was recorded and reciprocated. But the current techno-stupid tools absolve the imbeciles using them completely of the responsibility of their deeds. I was angry that this was happening. I could not sit idle with a philosophy of “God will take care of everything” and see others and I suffer from our stupidity.

These wretches are out to out-wit the god himself. They had to be taught a lesson. The nice thing was that the imbeciles had the backing of every religious organization in the locality. I liked that, I had always known them to be mind control groups who would sacrifice their followers ruthlessly to achieve any petty aims they set upon. It was nice to have them under one roof and pit myself against their guiles and vileness. May be there is something in astrology; I was born under the strong influence of the Mars. I like a fight any time. But it is easier said than done.

There are several hitches when you go on a mental skirmish with others. Unless your mind can work at different levels at the same time nothing will come of it. When your will is forcing itself on the other person, you should also be broadcasting the words mentally with tremendous force so that they would make an indelible impression on the other mind and along with that strong mental images relating to them need be sent. You have also to try to connect these words and images to something that the person is afraid of in life (the trigger element of Smirnov). You need also to make sure that these would remain with them and set upon them on every occasion they falter.

All this requires knowledge and the capability of manipulating forces at different levels, knowledge about human energy fields, primal forces, nerve centers, how different forces would work on different inner vehicles of man, the channels through these things can be sent, nature of obstacles to overcome (inborn as well as installed by magical rites), the features of the mind, the basic nature of the individual and you name it, you have to know it. If your efforts fail at one level you need to go up to other levels and work from them. In some cases you may need to work from within them.

That goes by the name of shifting of consciousness, pretty mighty feat by ordinary standards. Once you start on it you should not fail, if you do you would not be left to talk about it.

Well anyway I got through to them after a little while. They began to feel the heat of the mental turmoil. I would try them out occasionally by mentioning the bare outlines of some subliminal term like, ‘Sh’ and they would go pale. The problem was my control over them was more lasting and serious than theirs on others would ever be.

Even now if I had any thought on any one of them it would lodge in them immediately. They got frightened to the core and started consulting every knave that has ever practiced sorcery in the land. As I have mentioned before, they are at temples and churches the year round, ardent atheists among them have started reciting divine charms to save their “Souls”. The Hindus bring their black magicians, the Moslem’s bring their Mullah’s and the Christians bring their priests and nuns to the office to watch over my “Evil” influence on their poor “blameless” sheep.

As they were the practitioners of such arts they soon realized where the problem lay and stopped their broadcast altogether. I too stopped my tricks on that line on that. The dunderheads never had the guts to start on that path again. Now they try to besmear me by any means they could lay their hands on. They start rumor campaigns, send anonymous letters to all and sundry, sabotage my work, ride the net to prevent me from saying anything on them, file court cases to curtail service benefits etc.

I have received enough threats on life to scare the shit out of any one. The latest one had bikers following me to engage me physically, the main instigator being the driver of the official car. I am pretty free with my tongue as I mentioned earlier. I may have said something to particularly please him that day. He is on daily wages and has nothing to fear about official action. So he shoots off his mouth inside the office though he had no business to be inside it in the first place.

There are a few other daily wage hands too, whom they use to such good effect. The girls among them would watch for an opportunity to create a terrible ruckus in my presence. As I have nothing to do with their work I don’t talk to them directly, it’s too risky in the prevailing circumstances, and as such I wouldn’t look at them even if they had a hundred boobs instead of the normal one (or is it two for person?)

They practice at being rude to me every moment of the day. They have fixed a technique by which the buck is passed to everyone so that I can’t fix on any one in particular. If on this day someone would be rude to me, the next day he/she would be otherwise while someone else would take on the “work’. The poor darlings hit upon the course to evade my ‘invisible’ attacks getting fixed on anyone of them. They fear that it would drive them crazy.

That continues to this day. Today day it’s the guy to whom I once had denied the “Uniform Allowance” who is at the fore front of the attack. (He had changed category and was thus not entitled for the allowance. There was no normal way it could have been done. Yet if I had shut my eye and if the auditors had not noticed it, he might have benefitted from it.) He still holds the grudge and he is chums with the local goons and has threatened to “take care of me” if I get out of hand.

Actually I love every moment of it. Look at the effect I had on them all, I had turned all the imbeciles to the altar of god; I had rekindled spirituality in them. I had joined together people who were at swords and daggers when they see each other. The tumult ended their corruption altogether. Now they work for the ‘common benefit’, not for bribes alone, the poor lambs. The speed at which they now serve the people is unbelievable. They had to run from post to pillar to ‘control’ me so they had to please everyone who came to the office.

The greatest worry they have at present is whether am I (meaning of course, yours truly) working hard enough. Honestly I am not. I am lazing it and is doing the barest minimum allowable work. I had ideals once and had worked like five men but with these fuckers around I feel like kicking very hard at something rather than working hard.

Anyway you need to give the devil his due. They are fast becoming model citizens. I would not wonder if one of them wins the Bharatratna (Highest possible civilian award in this land) in the near future- bless the darlings.