Beautiful, isn’t it? A serene riverfront, a lovely town with flowers blooming in a green park, a nice road of shops, churches, museum and houses, people walking casually by, enjoying summer, Christmas or whatever time of the year with happy conversations, a sandwich and coffee.
When I started out my (this) life as a child, my mind always went into a trance like state on its own, thinking and wondering about what sort of world we are in, the nature of reality, who made it, why and how. I wondered about trees, water, soil, walls of my building, people – who were all these people really and all these things around me, how did they come about? Noone told me, noone seemed interested in a conversation. I thought once to leave home and walk around to look for the end of the world, ‘just keep walking till I find the answers’, I deliberated. The cold weather of New Delhi deterred me. I stayed safe indoors, not yet 10 years of age, but determined to learn the truth, one day. But I was in a horrid school and forgot my goals in all that stress of examinations and child abuse by teachers who expect homework even as my dad fought bitterly with my mum to control her. Just another army officer family of India where women moved around the country in multiple postings of husbands and had to leave their own jobs to look after children together with their men.
When I grew up (in my early twenties) I was learning about the world in dull colleges that were dusty and with ugly toilets, dirty canteens, dangerous and filthy roads laced with horrible eve teasers and people who spit went past me on the way in trains stacked up with poor commuters, moving upon dead bodies on railway tracks. Terrible lewd teachers went droning on and on in their classes in boring MBA subjects even as my dad was dying early of heart attacks in expensive hospitals that did not care about him, but he liked them becasue they were his PR clients and he had quit army for media glamour. Mumbai!
Religion fascinated me as it might have the answers for my childhood priorities – I read Koran and Bible disgustingly – as I was unable to understand why they would have so much negativity in these religious books. The fascination died down but I stayed positive, trying to take only positive things from the books I read and ignoring the negative ones as dictated by New Age masters and authors around me, books purchased by my younger sister on Angels, Gods, Goddesses and Tarot card reading. Tarot was her new fascination. We are Witches sister – Wiccan witches – she insisted as she initiated us both in a ceremony on the roof under the full moon with a small ritual of her own.
I agreed to meetup with other ‘witches’ of Mumbai through meetup group, a rebellious young Satanic ‘Dark Warlock’ who hated Jainism and wanted to eat animals, a sexual themed Goddess named female witch who was struggling to learn tarot and made me give free readings to her friends very cleverly, another woman I remembered from my dirty Mithibai college visiting my BA Psychology classmates in breaks, who did not even speak to me. I left them.
I started my own tarot and Magickal groups, with so many fantastic members, because I had a PR agency of my late father and had a number of articles appearing in newspapers through my team of a few employees, who insisted they could promote my magical obsession. So many meditation, tarot and psychic events, it was exciting and spiritual. A thriving and amazing community was being built for the first time in Mumbai for magic and enchantment.
I was learning meditation and for several hours a day at a stretch I would meditate as I read about how to be ‘neutral’ in mind, keep mind calm and still, neither positive nor negative, and thought free as introduced to me by my Vedic astrology teacher who took me to the real genetic brother of Osho Rajneesh in an ashram program. I was impressed by him and his lucid channeling of my thoughts (Know Thyself he clarified to me) – exactly what I believe too, I felt at home in his satsangas and teachings. But it was not eco-friendly or nature based – the ashram going students littered plastic around, thermocol cups of smelly tea with dairy were eagerly drunk after each session with heavy lunch and scattered on grass mowed lawns. Toilets were so dirty I could not imagine going into the one adjacent to my room. I was not impressed with the people around and left the program. After all, my sister said we are Witches, Wiccan Witches (clean ones) who do Tarot and Spells. Maybe western spirituality could have some answers for me.
I had read all about Wicca – Harm None Do As You Will – loosely scrambled in websites and signed up eagerly for long courses that went on for years and years of dedicated study of degrees and initiation. A nature based religion is exactly what I wanted. I felt this path might explain somethings to me, or even if it does not at least it will be less negative than other religions I had attempted to read and study about previously. Spells and magic sounds great, you can make things happen with the mind power that you develop, psychic powers, using herbs, crystals and other items sparingly for symbolic reasons – rituals to invoke powers that you feel and sense – imagine and create a reality. But Evermind the Law of Three – what you give returns to thee. Rules of Karma again in western format. A Hindu philosophy called me closer home. Those Western Wiccan witches were more like – ‘Nevermind the Law of Three’ and ‘Do As You Will As Long As It Harms None except Animals of Other Species’. Karma Chamelons. They confused me for a long time. Karma was a beautiful thing to learn and inspired me the most of all things.
But what about Karma from past lives? Do we have that too? Is this life all there is? Thinking of this I automatically I found a Past Life Regression Teacher in India and booked a flight to enrol in his various programs. He was brilliant, taught Hypnotherapy and Age regression, worked on releasing fears and blocks of the past, of inner child, slowly taking us into suspected past lives and teaching how to perform the same for others by teaching them to meditate in guided format. I liked this technique, it was amazing because the teacher was brilliant – he taught us how to meditate for a few hours everyday, which I already loved, and then – to move an object back at home right from where we were in another town, using our imagination, (mind). ‘Think of a specific object in your home, visualise it clearly, imagine it moving in a certain way and then call and ask your family member if it moved – they will agree it did.’ The autographed yantra painting on a clock gifted to me by a famous meditation master, a celebrity yogi PR client fell down suddenly at home as soon as I thought of moving it. It was easy to visualize as the painting was so colourful. When I returned home my sister complained how there is some ‘bad energy’ due to which the painting fell down on its own. ‘We create our own reality’ was the slogan of the community/ university of this teacher. But I asked him – what is reality then if not just an illusion. How does it work? I had no answers yet. Past life may be illusory too, ‘the only important thing is that the system of therapy works’ (on an emotional healing level), insisted the Buddhist master. I had a different opinion – illusion made me uncomfortable.
I took well to teaching psychic skills with Zener cards at 28 years of age (I was impressed by myself, I always got them right at that time, and my students were impressed with me), I taught real magic – spells and thoughtforms – they worked! It was like having a mini Hogwarts class of my own for enchanted ‘Hermiones’ who were dedicated and happy to learn, and who were impresed with themselves, learning how a few sessions of meditation can help them excel too in psychic arts and spells. ‘It is all illusion’, I taught them (As Within So Without). We manifest our life.
I started a shop called Magick and moved next door to it to live and teach there in Mumbai.
One magically powerful student suggested ‘Why not affirm after meditation every morning that you will earn at least 10,000 rupees today’ because I needed to now pay rent out of daily income by selling spiritual things and services. I was no longer living in my family home and my sister did not allow me to buy my own property through the PR business and shouted at me, which is why I gave it up to her and left home. I had to start all over again with just a car. I appreciated that gift of affirmation from a grateful student who had also started her own shop in another city. Each morning I would imagine how much I would earn. It went further, I could imagine a specific type of person turning up, their appearence (even if I had never met them), what they would say to me (word to word), the type of reading I would give that person, its contents exactly, and finally the money they will offer me, or even how many items they will buy, which ones, for how much. It was always as I visualized. Word to word, gesture to gesture, even emails of people appeared exactly as I visualized them to be written, punctuation included. This happened frequently. I got by life, and paid my rent and other daily expenses and loved my work. I was always healthy and happy.
After many years of meditation and tarot readings, Wicca and starting a spiritual shop and finally leaving my PR business (that I detested actually) I found peace. I was doing what I loved – all metaphysical. Beautiful crystals surrounded me and cats. I was in heaven.
What I could not understand was – how did people turn up and visit me, buying readings, healing sessions, past life sessions, spells, magical objects – exactly as I had visualized. It could only be if they were not real – an illusion. We create our own ‘illusions’. I kept on working and earning money but I always felt strange about it. They were not real.
I decided to marry and settle down, have a child, and manifested a man, imagined how he would look, a child too and a move out of the filthy streets of Mumbai or India as a matter of fact would be nice, I thought and manifested that I live abroad. It was traumatic to move. I stopped the shop, literally gave away all my knowledge to terrible employees, all my clients too were taken away, stolen. Those employees started doing very well and did not even thank me. So I focused on my family in UK and wrote books after books and meditated for long hours daily, giving all my money to husband who insisted he is freeing me and giving me more time to focus on higher things. I was grateful to him. It was a symbiotic plan.
I wanted to know about this illusion that was shattering on leaving India, ending my several years of work there – I was no longer interested in illusion, those clients, friends, noone was real, as I imagined so I had manifested – and now it was time to end it all. Maybe I am not on earth but in a spaceship headed to another planet, Vega perhaps and plugged in to an artificial reality machine in suspended Cryonic state in the long journey home and dreaming in this projection of mind, semi-lucid, a life of lie.
‘I want only truth now’ I asked in meditation. I had a dream of waking up on a spaceship in a time capsule, as soon as I had said this. It felt so real. I woke up back on earth eventually.
We are not on earth, it is a hallucination, I declared.
Then I saw it, the world around me with my rose tinted glasses on.
People in my neighbourhood were talking agitatedly as they heard me say no to animal food in the park picnics. They heard I was vegan and started showing me meat and dairy in their home, deliberately. My family members insisting on them too eating meat and dairy as if it meant the ‘world’ to them, shouting at me for saying no to dairy chocolates. My cat was dead, so was my younger sister, and before she died I dreamed of being given a visual tour of hell by my dead father, with cattle being harnessed around. My dad in an army costume answered. ‘You certainly are’ when I asked him ‘Am I dreaming’, and then I was in a cold metallic spaceship again walking amnesiatically, looking around, running after a child (my son) and waking up once again on earth.
I saw empty chicken boxes and cans of beer strewn around London and Grays, Essex where I reloated. ‘The Grey aliens have me for sure’, I felt so, with several lucid dreams about them before I moved there, they were testing me, sexually invasive procedures, rape. So were my relationships real? My family? Was it also a hallucination – My mind creating ‘reality’ that was mere illusion, created by me, my sense of emotional interdependency, a feeling of love and hugs, a family, a home – all illusion.
What was my true home, where was my real body, if this was a simulation? ‘The Matrix has me’, confirmed science articles. Nick Bostrum’s theories were in news. Elon Musk agreed with them too.
Then it happened. I received a phonecall. No gadgets were there. A space radio call. And a link appeared on my computer while browing on these alien theories of the Matrix, a fabulously worded channeled article about Ascension, and several downloads in dreams from multiple links and gadgets while dreaming. The fact is that eveything I read in that series manifested exactly, multi-dimensional realities, ascended masters, spirit communication, visions of spaceships and a clear static in my ears that turned into a voice, clear and loud, of a man who would tell me everything.
You are not home.
I began manifesting a new reality that found me alone again, at the start of my career again – no money, no shop, no relationship, not even a car or home. That spaceship was an illusion too, a police station at Grays, where insectoid aliens in human form ran their third-class reality show.
I realized this – most people around are not real – yes, they themselves told me so. I had clients turning up and telling me ‘did you manifest me by thinking me up today’. (Yes I had done so, she knows it….I realized truthfully). My spiritual and meditation office was not really working out well in UK either. It was not alright for me to be in illusion and dream up new clients. I simply could not manifest illusion anymore because it felt wrong.
Readers on my blog and facebook posts said they are not real. I did not even want to write anymore. I still write, a lot, because it helps me organise my thoughts, feelings and experiences lucidly.
So why am I still here in this world, knowing for sure it is illusory, in Maya and Maya has said so herself – showed herself to me, that she is illusion. A female emerged from my mind wearing exactly what I thought and walked though a hedge as I had planned. A man emerged from my third eye and became a real person in flesh right before my eyes. And I was walking away from it all. From career and relationships both.
What am I doing here? Where is the real me and why am I forced to live in a reality of sheer ‘illusion’, to work for money, try to earn (again) – to pay bills – after the long break from it all.
And where to work anyways – shops selling legs of lamb, killed cows, ribs of pigs, dead birds in buckets. I must be in Hell.
A hallucination, a simulation of a sinful nation. UK. India. Australia. Did not matter. Had permanent residency in all three. Wherever in the world – it is hell. What job to do, whom to work for, how to earn – tarot readings for Maya, the illusion, the devil who has stated who he/she is? Working at a shop again, starting my own enterprise, paying rent – an ugly exploitative system that abuses the earth for money, takes away land from animals and charges me for it?
‘Gonna shut the system down’ chanted extinction rebellion union near me at Chelmsford in a group meeting, and I felt that too, and finally lost my temper when I saw a video of a Chinese woman eating bat soup – ‘better if a virus spreads everywhere’ I thought strongly in anger. I went about manifesting a lockdown – masks too, and shutting down all those disgusting restaurants where they sold poor baby chicks cut like brocolli was the right thing to do. It also gave me time to disengage with the exploitative money and land based system of profit at the expense of the trees and animals.
Lockdowns cannot be forever, just for a short time. At times I wondered if I should wait till I get my passport and Indian permanent visa to leave this ham eating country for good, and thus the lockdown ended for now. But where to go is still a question, not that I miss India either. And my son – he is young a needs both parents and they need to earn money to bring him up, as well as provide him stability in school forcing me to settle down in UK. I hate Indian coakroaches anyways and cannot imagine returning there.
But while in UK how to provide for my son without selling shoes and jackets made of dead bodies in this neighbourhood where noone needs spiritual enlightenment or truth? Should I start tarot readings for money again, thrown casually by Maya at me who knows she is not real – one who is pretending to like me? Or will a lockdown be eternal this time? Can the system change for good – no more illusion – or climate change and end of this traumatic world of human dominion? Can a better world be there to love, at least not a negative one? Or will I be exploited to work – toil away and pay rent and taxes instead of seeking truth. Where is the freedom to meditate free of charge – why the rent to sit down on earth and live upon it?
Why are animals killed and forests taken away, they evicted from home, domesticated indoors and turned to slaves for profit – am I too one of them who have no right to live freely and seek truth, and to discover the way to freedom out of this artificial simulation, this hell? Aren’t we all chained up? What have we done to deserve it? Are we paying eternally for some casual sins of our past?
Nothing inspires me any more. It is all a Hell-You-Sin-Nation! And I am not loving it.