Wednesday, January 7, 2015

the manu script


“Remember… Love”, she said in the softest tone he heard from her yet. It had been fifteen years to this day, perhaps even precise to the hour and second; since his first experience of the Unknowable. Insanity most Divine, a bliss unparalleled. Now in the fury of all the chaos surrounding these last sweet cherished moments together, everything made sense. This is where the journey led to all along, but such a context was almost too bizarre to believe. Surely that madness induced so long ago was still active; this must be a persistent hallucination. Perhaps if he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, he would wake up in the secure confines of that cell. Maybe this was all a dream… he hoped it was all a dream.

“Manu... Look at me... Remember Love”, she said this time much more firmly, gripping his hand tight thorough the padding of their gloves. He opened his eyes, and saw her face behind the glass, nestled among the reflection of a million stars, her heavy breath now throbbing with anxiety. This was all too real, too much detail, too vivid and large a situation to be dreamed or hallucinated. This was actually happening, the ultimate here and now. Looking back one last time now seemed harder than ever. How often he imagined that awe inspiring vision, of the overview effect. To look upon the world for all its celestial beauty, now just a head turn away.

Earth was much bigger on the lunar horizon than expected. It was overwhelming and actually caused Manu to stagger back a little. Almost as soon as his eyes met this celestial body in the sky, a flicker of light like a spark, appeared on the dark edge of our planet. “Synchronicity” he muttered under his breath, knowing exactly what was next. It was time to stand strong. Surely there was purpose to this last attempt at survival. The human spirit had endured so much for so long, and as he prepared his mind for the worst sight conceivable, it was understood that only one, fitting structure of thought applied now... Prayer

“Oṃ bhūr bhuvaḥ svaḥ, tát savitúr, váreṇiyaṃ, bhárgo devásya dhīmahi, dhíyo yó naḥ pracodáyāt Om”- Gāyatrī Mantra

Rarely did Manu find time to ponder the meaning of this chant. Somehow this was one of those few things he absorbed very early in life, without questioning. Perhaps this owed to the elaborate rite of passage ritual and festivity revolving around the learning of this particular message. Especially since his own father was the teacher involved, there was little room left for frivolity and play. For three days and nights, he was confined to a dark and depressing room, knowing that all his cousins and friends were just outside… enjoying the time of their lives. “You are lucky it’s not for a whole week like it was in my time,” his father would say “and in the good old days, you would have had to go off into the forest for a month, just to learn this mantra from sages in the wilderness!” subtly implying that Manu lacked gratitude.

The sacred thread ceremony was a grand affair by their family’s measure, and Manu an only son, had many expectations to live up to. ‘Studying hard’ was the way to go for Bengali people. Knowledge was their primary tool as a community, and they used it well. All his relatives boasted of glittering careers in advanced fields of research and development. Naturally then, a central element of Bengali cultural protocol, involved making a celebratory event, out of an occasion to study. It was a grueling intensive series of sessions, with seeming endless hours of recitation. Soon enough he could almost chant the mantra backwards. Little did he know at the time, that this one verse handed down from father to son, would be the one appropriate thing to utter at a moment like this.

Tara let out a cry of agony, as if something had just plunged through her flesh, but there was no such accident. For that matter they stood far from the true horror of this unfolding. That spark at the edge of their world gave rise to another, and then another and within a matter of minutes… it appeared as if the Earth had been illuminated by a million massive lights, all expanding; growing together, swirling with the clouds, meeting each other, feeding off one another. It was like watching the birth of a star, and soon enough she shone with brilliance worthy of one. The end had just begun.

Manu pulled his wife close, or at least as close as their protective armor would allow for. It was awkward and clumsy, hard and uncomfortable. To feel that a last other human being alive, was just some layers of polymer and metal away… but impossible to actually touch, was excruciating and only added to Tara’s misery. She felt trapped, alone and suffocated, cut off from all that is life. “How could we have done this to ourselves, how did this happen?” she whimpered, defeated and hopeless. Manu had to decide carefully whether to speak truth, or say what she wanted to hear. However this was no time to pretend that there was anything other than Truth left. “Everything is as should be.” He said in a deep and steady voice. “Even this must be part of a greater design; else it could not be, my Love.”

She had heard him say this so many times, over and over for years. Now finally this idea was all that was left to cling to. A flood of memories came to her, the cherished times they sat up nights, discussing and debating all sorts of fantastic ideas. Usually he would manage to divert the conversation, to something silly and jovial, just as soon as subjects became too heavy. It was so much fun to learn together, explore and hope for a beautiful future. Now standing on the Moon, witnessing the burning of her home world, from a distance… removed, she wondered if there was any future left. How could they possibly move forward from this, what reason was left to continue? Each other perhaps; though no matter how she longed for him, their skin could not touch.

The Earth grew brighter, and brighter yet… till it was almost impossible to look at her directly. As he shielded his eyes from the glare, Manu became immediately disgusted with this natural response of holding a hand up against the light. All life on earth was being vaporized at that moment by his own Design, and this monster could not even bare to look, for the fear of burning his eyes. ‘Despicable… pay attention, at least bear witness.’ He reminded himself, ‘absorb every detail, and never forget.’ It was too late. Swirls of flame soon turned dark red and then almost black, coagulating like blood as the inferno was drowned by a quickly vaporizing ocean. Earth seemed to swell exponentially, as more water vapor, gasses, smoke and storms of debris, formed the most complexly beautiful fractal pattern ever imaginable.

What was once a thin blue and white, clouded serene atmosphere; had now turned into a dark muddy brown, thick hide like skin, enveloping the planet, stretching over its surface, replacing the sky altogether. Just as any sediment dissolves in liquid, owing to spin and gravitational strength, the layers began to separate. Subtly at first, but soon evident to the squinting eye, it appeared as if the dark fog was contracting back inwards, while somehow leaving an aura of sorts, reminiscent of the full extent of Earth’s expansion. This ethereal haze left at the outer most layer, grew clearer and gained depth as the swirl became denser, slower and almost crystalline at the centre. Their planet now looked somewhat like… a single speck of pollen, magnified to gargantuan proportions. White plumes of wispy cloudy material, radiating in streaks from the centre, reaching out towards the heavens.

“That must be all the water Tara… doesn’t it seem like a halo around our home sweetheart?” Tears were streaming down her cheeks, as she lifted her eyes from the ground they stood on, and glanced in the direction of Manu’s pointing finger, circling this misty aura enveloping the Earth. He told her this day would come; a burden of knowledge they both endured like warriors, unflinching. For that matter, her husband had described every detail of this event, with a level of visionary precision that sent chills down her spine. “In that mist roam all our forefathers, brothers and sisters, friends and creatures… life itself. Nothing is lost my Love. Nothing is lost.” Though it was hard to fully understand, she had no option but to trust his Knowing. After all, they made it here exactly as he foretold.

“We have to continue the Work.” Manu exhaled, his shoulders drooping down with fatigue. “It should not be much longer now Tara, come… follow me.” She remembered his detailed notes, sketches, working diagrams, maps, timelines and endless lecture recordings. He had prepared her, their entire journey together. In fact she was the only person he ever met, who resonated with these ideas; with openness, only unconditional love could provide. Leading up to their union, his mind was cluttered, confused and fragmented. Most ridiculed his regular incoherent rants, on diverse subjects making connections that scared audiences. When she first looked upon him, roaming about with his long curly unruly hair and straggly beard; she saw just a boy, trying to make sense of a cruel world that tortured him, punished him and pushed him towards avenues that meant nothing to his being, for the sake of productivity or status.

The first years were tough, as Manu had been severely scarred at the hands of various agencies interested in compromising his efflorescence, some too closely knit for comfort. These events transpired long before their fateful union, but the shadow of his past torment persisted. Any man, who comes upon Self realization through Spiritual awakening, was bound to be noticed as an aberration within a community, almost immediately. Speaking in Divine tongues was once viewed as witchcraft, and in the modern world… conveniently slotted under the domain of psychological disease.

Either way, the system would swiftly address this situation, through aggressive correctional measures. Doctors had all sorts of theories to explain his abrupt shifts in behavior; speaking riddles in poetry, dancing to music that could not be heard, proclaiming to be a Divine Centre. ‘Psychosis induced by psychedelic drug overdose’ was the first conclusion. Hurled into a locked cell, and dried out under supervision for weeks, he showed no signs of recovery. This man seemed strangely at ease with captivity, and used the time to draw elaborate undecipherable diagrams with chalk on the wall.

‘Schizophrenia’ it seemed was now the obvious cause of such a persistent condition, for surely any psychotropic substances in the body must have been flushed out over this detoxification period. Psychiatrists had a strange way of assuming that the best method to address a neuro-chemical imbalance was by further bombarding the brain with an opposing spectrum of chemicals. These medications would restrict said target’s ability, to process these unacceptable thought processes; inducing darkness and confusion most foul. Contending with the force of an awakening Avatar incarnation, prove to be a bit much for this set of stuffy European scientists.

He would sit across them at review meetings with twinkling eyes, evidently amused at this vain attempt to be understood, or worse still ‘cured’. “So you people are doctors of the mind, correct?” he would slowly and eerily sneer, “Then tell me my dear experts… what exactly is the mind? How is this… this mind linked… to awareness? Perhaps you could share your thoughts on… hmm… the nature of our collective consciousness… anyone?” Mumbled and contradictory statements blurted out by the various specialists present, paled in comparison to Manu’s thundering cut off remark, “Well since you all so evidently, have no clue as to what we are dealing with here… may I return to my work?” Reports at this time suggested that the patient was delusional, passive aggressive and suffering from acute narcissistic paranoia. The paranoia factor attributed to ‘a misplaced sense of critical importance to world history; the patient is convinced of having visions of ‘all time’ via drug induced hallucinations, resulting in the ego formation, of an persistent messiah complex.’

Soon enough there was no option but to discharge Manu and allow for his return to India; as his student visa was due to expire. The family was instructed to ensure forced daily lifelong medication, in order to avoid any further ‘episodes’. A new set of charlatans appointed to continue diagnostics back home. For months he suffered this routine dampening of soul. Ingesting the medicine resulted in a steady decline of awareness, till soon enough the one living person to have attained to complete Divine communion, had been systematically reduced to a sluggish beast.

Unable to wake from slumber till late in the day, drooling without realizing, while watching mind numbing cartoons, abnormal weight gain and sexual dysfunction; among a whole range of side effects. These crept forth so insidiously that Manu barely noticed his own steady decline into darkness. It felt like falling asleep while waking, or being less and less awake with each day. Decades later it would be uncovered, that recurring random mass shootings, at school campuses around the world were directly linked… to rampant and reckless prescription of these same medications and antidepressants.

It was on a horribly hot summer evening in Calcutta, quiet and relaxed on the sprawling lawns of his father’s favorite city club, drenched with sweat; when an old acquaintance approached. Saurab was Manu’s junior at boarding school, a distinction which prevented them from having any real friendship on campus, but years later such hierarchy faded, and a familiar face in this dreadful city was a welcome sight. Like an old man, Manu put up great effort to just stand, and welcome Saurab to the table. A hand shake turned into a sticky awful hug, and they peeled away from each other instantly, wiping sweaty palms on trousers. “Good to see you Manu! Where on earth have you been all this time?” he jovially inquired with a casual interest. “There were some really crazy stories going round about you! We were all a bit worried for a while there, what happened? You look terrible!” By now he had noticed how completely different Manu looked, as compared to when they last met.

Now that was a couple of hours worth of answers right there, and Manu dreaded telling his tale. At first he tried to brush off the inquiry with some vague generalizations about how life can be rough sometimes, that it was important to ‘get back on the horse’, and similar evasive verbal maneuvers. Unfortunately Saurab had time to kill and a growing curiosity, as he witnessed Manu evidently squirming away from this topic of conversation. Worse still, he just happened to be carrying some hashish in his wallet and found this setting, to be the perfect opportunity to roll a neat fat strong crafted ‘joint’. It took Manu just one inhalation, and everything came flooding back in vivid high definition, intense knowing. The term ‘ganja’ was originally coined, with etymological reference to the word ‘gyan’ for profound wisdom, or divine knowledge.

All boundaries dissolved, the cloud of their separation was lifted and he regaled Saurab with stories of fantastic journeys and realizations, till early in the morning. While speaking to this unsuspecting disciple, Manu regained familiarity with those distinct and separate voices of conscience operating within his being. Once more he could express to Saurab a story of one memory, while simultaneously deeply involved in the thought process pertaining to a completely separate vision. ‘Meditation’ he remembered… ‘This is the meditation space, of course! How could this have slipped away?’ Scanning his mind for any moment that may have caused this disconnect, was futile. Till like a drop falling on still water, the idea struck him ‘This termination, of the meditation could have been induced. It is the medicine… it must be the medicine!’ he realized.

Saurab was horrified as the tale began to draw closer to that current date. Hearing of this forced medical treatment at the behest of psychiatric lunatics, was heart wrenching. Manu looked desperate and worried, for fear of being drawn back into the darkness, where no thought was coherent, chemically mind neutered. “Here, take this… use it whenever you cannot see clarity.” Saurab handed over whatever little was left of the drug, and Manu received it gratefully with open palms, and then folded them in gratitude. For him this was the equivalent of accepting God’s grace, as a gesture of taking ‘prasad’ in Hindu culture. Though Saurab was Muslim and their customs quite different in nature, he understood this moment for its full significance or implication, and shed a tear. “Were all just walking each other home, aren’t we Saurab.” Manu mumbled, quoting an insightful modern sage.

They parted ways forever after watching the sun rise, and Manu drove home renewed, alive… himself again after what seemed like an eternity. Reaching home he went straight to bed, slept and dreamed with a peace serene, visions and patterns streaming across his inner eye the whole nap long. Later that afternoon Manu woke, hungry and groggy. They lived in a large old bungalow with lots of intricately carved wooden furniture, elaborate display units filled with numerous collected mementos of their travels around the world. His father’s work involved many transfers to branches of companies in different countries. As a result their life was a series of varied contexts rich in cultural diversity, and their many showcased artifacts stood testimony to that.


“I know God won't give me anything I can't handle. I just wish he didn't trust me so much.” - Teresa

Manu’s parents were quite strict, though loving people. It was in the name of said love, that they ensured the ‘best’ of everything for their only darling son. However a hidden implied subtext of this intent… was that, in turn they expected the ‘best’ from Manu as well. Everything orchestrated according to some notion of a greater good, an efficient and organized approach to child reading was adopted. Integrated perfectly with holiday schedules away from boarding school were; classical guitar studies, training in karate, tennis coaching, swimming camps and a whole host of tutors assigned to oversee improvement in grades, for various academic subjects. Growing up was no trivial matter, life was serious and everything had to be approached with intensity, to ensure the development of skills required, to survive in a harsh and cruel world. These people were not planning on breaking the bad news of their ‘real’ world to the boy lightly. The law of the Jungle had been engrained as a world view from the beginning, survival of the fittest, eat or be eaten and other such competitive ego driven dribble.

Naturally it was impossible to become a champion or master of so many diverse disciplines. Manu began to notice a strange common thread that tied these activities together. It seemed to all revolve around the ability to concentrate, regardless of circumstances. An awakening that, for him proved most applicable to competitive athletic swimming. He actually managed to win a couple of races, and go as far as setting a pool record or two. This was an achievement uncharacteristic of the stereotypical, frail bespectacled Bengali student. Water had a resonance with the boy that could not be explained. Even though he was not tall or particularly well built, when compared to others of the same age, he could glide through the ripples like a silent knife. Friends joked that his success was owed to the buoyancy created by his slightly heavy midriff, like a floatation device. Of course much of this skill had to do with the rigorous training that Manu’s mother had arranged for, replete with a renowned coach and scheduled hours in the day, strictly maintained to attend swimming practice.

There was a certain peace in the water, he had never experienced otherwise. The buildup to aquatic sportsmanship, involved endless hours of repetitive back and forth laps, in a tranquil massive Olympic sized pool, often under the stars. These endless cycles were enriched with variable speeds, while implementing different strokes, continuously maintaining an aware, and machine like precision for conservation of breath. As a result he spent much of his youth completely alone. While other children played in teams and enjoyed a rather social physical development, filled with laughter and camaraderie, Manu’s training was fundamentally meditative and solitary in nature.

It was only by understanding the flows and currents of water, the relationship of his body and mind with these forces, and how the slightest gesture could guide momentum; that he managed to achieve some level of distinction in this arena. Out of sheer skill in style refined to near perfection, Manu found his centre. Over time he even developed the ability, to meditate upon solutions to bizarre things, like calculus equations for math class while swimming… as a simultaneous process. His parents were proud, and placed the numerous trophies alongside other valuable objects in their display units. He was then a shining example of a physically fit, yet studious well behaved young lad.

Now these same parents stood before a fatter, unshaved hunched over shadow of their former son… full of scorn, eyes raging with anger. “Where were you last night?” his mother seethed and hissed. Manu paused munching on a sandwich and looked up, befuddled by her tone. “I was at the club with a friend. We were chatting that’s all, and there were no girls present, I promise.” he said quietly trying to look as innocent as possible. “So can you explain this then?” his father yelled slamming a hand down on the dining table. Under his palm, he revealed that piece of hashish in its zip lock plastic baggie, which Saurab had shared earlier. Manu was stunned. ‘How had they managed to find it so quickly?’

This question probably seemed evident by the look on his face, and his mother indulged “every since your debacle at university, we have had to routinely check your room for drugs, as per the doctor’s instructions”. She looked very pleased to have finally yielded result in this routine effort, in fact she was blatantly gloating with a devious smirk. “I suggest you go back to your room and sleep for a while. You look completely high, and it is disgusting.” His father instructed dismissively after taking a nice long gulp of cold beer. “Have your medicine before you go.” His mother commanded while handing over a glass of water with a handful of pills, kept ready well in advance.

Manu snapped within, but somehow managed to clench his fists just hard enough to not explode altogether. Remembering what the medicine made him feel like, visualizing the numbing gloom of its dark haze, he concluded… that he would have no more of this subjugation; and stormed off to his quarters slamming the door shut. For a while he paced up and down furiously, then sat and smoked a couple of cigarettes in quick succession. It was no use. The taste of his long lost companion cannabis was too overwhelming to ignore. Technology necessary for relief confiscated, he felt utterly alone. Staring out at the crescent moon above; too hazy to view clearly through the fixed mosquito mesh on all windows, he thought about how this descent into hell started. Arriving at university abroad just two years earlier had been enabled by the most inexplicable series of coincidences; ensuring this passage towards higher learning. That true Knowledge, would present itself at this campus… was completely unexpected and its mode of delivery, beyond the confines of any type of classroom conceivable.

Having graduated from Architecture College, it was expected of Manu to fall in line, with the standard path for young men of his community; to venture abroad for further studies, towards eventual specialized certification, with an aim of securing a rewarding job. Calcutta being a dead end morass, in the view of most cynical middle class locals, was a place to ideally escape. Fortunately the institute in another city, where he explored approaches to architectural design, was of internationally reputed stature. Therefore his resultant portfolio of work generated while in studio, was well received by most universities. Surely enough admission had been secured, at a place Manu regarded as ‘first choice’, owing to its course content; and of course the fact that it was located in a country, where mild drugs were legally available. Experimenting with alcohol and marijuana was common practice in design school, though adopted only during the final stages of the course, as a rite of passage of sorts… handed from outgoing seniors to the next batch. This ritual that was coupled with introductions, to profound meaningful music by the masters, and it ensured a complete experience of the free flowing creative high. Most students would make quantum leaps in their design capacity at this stage, just in time to sink their teeth into a pending thesis dissertation.

Fully equipped with the necessary references to navigate the young adult world, Manu confidently strode into the university and commenced a Master’s program in urban planning. An upgrade in scale from his former training, but this was a natural progression for many architecture students at the time, as a ‘planning’ degree could often lead to some steady, high paying government appointment. Quarters for international students were quite innovatively designed, by converting shipping containers into living spaces, stacked together and connected by a central grid, with ramps to stairwells. The hostel looked like a giant machine, and was nicknamed ‘the space boxes’. Manu loved the living environment contained within. His room was compact, modular and perfect. Small enough to maintain easily and fully equipped to live a full and social life.

By now he had become almost compulsively neat and orderly, and thus kept this space minimal and clean, with the feel of a Zen meditation chamber. The seed for this particular habit, planted long before by a sage in the Himalayas. A man who Manu once sat with for no reason, while on a walk in the middle of nowhere. Sharing some quiet moments smoking a pipe they looked into the distance together, the chilling gentle breeze caressing dew formed on their beards. This old man made a single utterance, “organization is the key to success” and Manu thanked him for this insight with a gesture of touching the sage’s feet, before quietly slipping away, leaving him amid the peace and silence.

Academics at this university soon bored Manu, as the rigorous scientific approach to research and theory, left little room for philosophy and creative thinking. Most considerations were rooted in the idea that all data could be mapped, and once accumulated, processed by simulation software. Created to anticipate growth trends of cities, ultimately this method was implemented to develop economic strategy, for optimal feasibility. Ecology in those days was a disputed subject, where academia found itself divided on the evidence, that human activity was responsible for the decline of natural systems. A division created by agencies interested in the pillaging of said resources for profit. In fact those same companies were deeply involved with educational institutions as well, by means of targeted donations, scholarships, recruitment and other such insidious approaches.

Local Christian missionary outreach programs seemed determined, to introduce all foreign students to the ways of their Lord. Special workshops and barbeque sessions, conveniently integrated with course structure, ended with handout pamphlets and groups of students led to ‘mentors’… who would speak of the virtue in attending Sunday mass. Manu was far too awakened by his own spiritual models of understanding. The indignation, of having to listen to this garbage was too much to handle. Eventually he dropped out altogether. Ironically, just months after his departure from this place, the Architecture department building, where Manu studied for that short duration… burned down to the ground in a freak fire accident.

On an evening out with friends at the local pub, Manu suddenly became completely disinterested, with table discussions revolving around sporting league results and gossip. Politely excusing himself, he ventured back to the space box hostel, crossing a bridge over the canal in the dark of night. It was a beautiful university town, with lush greenery and the freshest air to breathe. As he trudged the long way back home, in the distance a faint music became audible. It was coming from the opposite direction to his route. The beat was drawing, hypnotic and curiosity beckoned.

Changing course he followed this sound till he arrived at the old quadrant of campus, where original university buildings lay vacant, awaiting renovation. Walking along the tall boundary hedge, tiny glimpses of this music’s origin, could be seen though the shrubbery. It was an unkempt front lawn to the former chemistry laboratory. There were a couple of sofas laying around randomly, with small groups of strangely dressed people hanging about them. A bonfire lay unattended and messy, with someone trying to fry something in a pan on it. Almost unnoticeable to the side, were a couple of men attending to elaborate gadgetry, and it turned out that this… was the source of the sound.

Manu hesitated for a moment; it was all too strange to be considered as a ‘safe’ place to find oneself at this hour. Upbringing kicked in and all the warnings against befriending strangers rang shrill in his head, but it was too late. Some of the people had noticed him turning back, trying to avoid getting involved in this scene, and called out “hey you there, what’s your name?” Manu stopped and cautiously entered the secret garden through a large gap in the hedge “Umm… sorry to intrude, I’m Manu”. It was a surreal environment, like a fairy tale; with flowing colorful lights, illuminating artwork and curious sculptures scattered about the landscape. These people were strikingly beautiful, with the most bizarre hairstyles, and welcomed him with opened arms asking “So where are you from friend?” Manu simply said “India” and everyone went quiet. “Come with us” they smiled and urged, “you really must meet Dan.” Manu was led into the massive foyer of the old university building.

“We call this, the lab” they joked, as it was explained to Manu that this was a squatter artist community. Squatting happened to be a legal right to citizens in this country. If a building went unused, all they had to do was fill out the proper paper work, and anyone could adopt any place as home. They entered a room which had a massive central desk, lined with rows of rusted dirty old taps, burners, basins and beakers. Strangely a large double bed was in the middle of this laboratory setting, and on the other side, a massive ledge with a complex glowing array of computer screens, mixing boards, keypads, microphones, cameras, sensors and other odd equipment.

Dan was sitting back on his easy chair, watching one martial arts film on three screens simultaneously, eating straight out of an instant noodle cup and smoking a joint. Its soundtrack was blaring. As Manu entered, the main character of the movie said the words “It is like a finger that points to the moon, don’t look at the finger, or you will miss all the heavenly glory.” Manu had seen this scene before, when he was very young, and it came back to him with an echo like déjà vu. Dan swiveled round on his chair and broke the moment, with a triumphant exclamation “So you are here finally!” while getting up to greet the new guest. “I am very happy to meet you. Welcome to our home.” Manu introduced himself again, and they sat to begin conversation as old friends would, when reuniting after a long interval. Ease and comfort somehow transcended differing English accents. Dan was Scandinavian and their linguistics was rather unique, and contrasting to Indian phonetics. Yet, they understood each other perfectly. Brief summaries of life histories, personal interests, favorite music, ideas and ideals were exchanged. Soon enough Dan brought up the subject he had been secretly itching to probe this whole time. “So have you ever tried acid Manu?”

Confusing images of syringes and skeletal drug addicts sprawled in dark alleys, haunted Manu’s mind in a flash. Surely this great fellow was not trying to get him involved, with an underworld of hard drug use. Sensing his discomfort at the query, Dan proceeded to explain to Manu what this drug was exactly; its origins, historic impact on modern technology and culture, relevance to spiritual practice, and awe inspiring experiential quality. Its method of delivery, by simply ingesting a drop of tasteless, odorless, colorless liquid, relieved Manu considerably. It was not long before a little vile emerged, while Dan specifically pointed out that this particular batch was derived from the original potion; first created by the ‘good doctor’. This was “the cutting edge of pure” as he put it, “I tried it the other day, and it told me you were on your way!” Dan said with a knowing wink and smile.

‘He must be insane’ thought Manu… but a sense of inquiry most profound, compelled him to participate in what was now, gathering as an imminent group meditation. A warmly lit, well cushioned setting arranged for; soon almost everyone in the building had gathered for this moment. The vile was passed around and in silence, all present took a taste of the magic elixir, while soft intricate electronic music hummed and beat in the background. It was not long before they awoke.

As the drug took effect, everyone in the circle became simultaneously aware of a collective ability to communicate without words, somehow via some sort of emerged telepathic network; its centre radiating very obviously from this Indian guest. He was so familiar, everything about him, the long hair, curly beard, aged eyes and slight smile. Looking around, he nodded at the audience, recognizing them as ancient collaborators, or the first council. Nothing looked the same, yet everything was exactly as it was. Reality had been induced with a new layer of information, more detail, clearer thought, and a slowing perception of the passage of time, allowing for music to separate and expand exposing its many layers, meanings, models, symbols and encoded references. All made sense, and the veil of confusion had been lifted. Meaning, truth, purpose and reason were instantaneously, eternally understood, though never forgotten in the first place. Brothers and sisters were revealed where once strangers and acquaintances lay.

A new dawn had broken in the collective mind, as their teacher spoke without words. The lesson was unending and excruciatingly severe, yet simultaneously brief to the instant, paradoxically a most reassuring message. The entire spectrum of human experience, flashing before all their eyes, each separating if they so chose, into an infinite number or potential realities. Able to consciously move back and forth through time and space, viewing everything everywhere forever… some simply drifted into unconsciousness, overloaded by the intensity of this vision. Manu however, was finally in his true element, and Dan had the sole privilege as ‘first advisor’ in the scheme of things, to experience the unabridged version of this Avatar’s self realization, acting as divinely appointed human witness.

The rest of this council went their separate ways in due course. These two men finally saw into the space between spaces, where time did not exist. In essence they confronted the threshold of a Divine realm, beyond which… it seemed only death could provide safe passage. Close enough to derive some sort of intuition regarding workings of the universe, but too immature to process in any coherent sense. Like babies they witnessed the unfolding of a source message, with abstract conception of what was occurring, akin to an infant’s grasp of world complexity. “The more real you get, the more unreal the world gets,” a Beetle once said as music was closest to truth.


0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144, 233, 377, 610, 987…

First there was nothing, and then something emerged, which resulted in the formation of many things, all composed upon the fabric of that initial nothing. Like a fractal pattern, each part was reminiscent of the whole, or original ‘first something’ out of nothing. It became impossible to condense limitless ideas into limited minds, and therefore these young men modeled their understanding on metaphors available through their life experience. In summation the only tangible message derived they concluded, was that ‘Everything is connected, and all is one. The source is the end, is the source.’ It was bliss and so quick, then lingered on for days. In and out they floated through what was referred to in urban myth as ‘flashbacks’, a recurrence of these divine moments of truth spontaneously, without ingesting any chemical trigger. Surely they had stumbled upon some sort of sacred space. Were they evolving? Everything conspired with their shared thoughts, words on the radio, writing in signage, the strange way machines would always function abnormally in their presence. Glitches and loopholes in reality, under the guise of random chance and coincidence, soon started to get eerie and all indications pointed towards a greater mystery yet to be revealed.

One day Dan seemed unusually nervous and preoccupied as he approached Manu with a suspicious caution. “What have you brought Dan? Please tell me it’s not what I sense it is.” He had come over to the space box hostel, bypassing some Chinese students on his way in, gagging at the wafting odor of their evening meal preparation. It was ghastly and he wondered briefly what poor creature they were cooking. “It’s the spirit molecule… we have to start preparing the tea.” Manu had heard of this compound over the last weeks, through his extensive research on the psychedelic phenomenon. ‘To manifest the mind’ in translation, was the origin of this drug categories’ nomenclature.

Others called them ‘Entheogens’, or that which gives rise to the God within. Apparently this particular substance was central to many life forms and released during birth and death; linked to triggering consciousness in biology, and therefore the mystical reference to it being a ‘spirit molecule’. Cooking this concoction enabled the individual to essentially simulate a death transition experience, without physically being deceased; a chemical final frontier, for psychedelic voyagers. Dan knew well that Manu was not about to refuse the opportunity to delve deeper into truth.

A central part of this ritual involved, keeping plastic bag lined waste bins close at hand, in case of induced nausea from the strong effects of drinking this vile thick purple chewy potion. “Now the visions will start.” Dan proclaimed confidently, and sure enough… they did. This recipe, it was rumored, was handed across by inter-dimensional beings from ‘beyond’. It was nothing like they had ever experienced before, even in a wildest imaginative fantasy or subconscious dream.

Disembodied, mind separated from the witness of awareness and consciousness revealed, as that ‘first nothingness’, and consciousness again as this ‘everything’, that sprang forth therein. Biology was the best frame of reference, and Manu began to speak with Dan as if delivering a lecture mid trance. “You see… it is all like the body, where every cell is a part of the body, but not the whole thing. Yet contained within each part is the genetic information governing the whole…” debated Manu enthusiastically.

“So if I extracted some blood from my vein now, and kept it in a glass vile on the table here, my disembodied cells would not be able to perceive me; simply as they do not possess the features necessary, to understand my body’s overall form… right?” He paused to make sure that Dan was keeping up with the metaphor, and looked deeply into his bright green dilated pupils. A nod sufficed, and Manu resumed discourse with the insight of a designer’s perspective. “In the same way, we… as components of an overall Divine being, cannot possibly fathom the true awe of His full glory! Even during this enhanced experience, we too like little blood cells, do not have the physical tools or sensory organs needed to see the whole!” At this point the concept clicked with Dan profoundly and he added to the model in a style distinct to his own technological background.

“So what if the psychedelics are like a hack into the system? What if this is the route to solving our issues as a species. Surely if everyone knew this to be the true nature of things, suffering would cease and be relieved by compassion. We must share this with the world!” Dan contemplated for a while, knowing the potency of this compound to be beyond comparison, even in the smallest of quantities. He concluded that infecting water supplies with this potion could potentially create a profound large scale effect. Manu knew better. He explained to this dear friend, that an only route to affecting the state of reality; was to address one’s own internal state of being. “Everything else follows suit” he insisted.

The Avatar had finally abstractly understood that all darkness in his universe stemmed from the darkness within himself, and the same for light. He was the problem, and he too was the solution. “This applies, to every individual… and in turn, different intentions from the life experience create a multitude of parallel universes, overlapping to form the tapestry of a Divine being’s flesh. Stories come together as crystallized realities, history emerging out of nothing.” Manu was drifting into poetic verse, almost singing the words as they came through him.

By now Dan was fading in and out of fully grasping the swiftly shifting momentum of Manu’s realizations and their feeble oral explanations. He was going over the edge. Neural circuitry on overload, Manu soon drifted into a complete babble of mixed confusing and rambled thoughts. He began to completely lose touch with reality, oblivious of surroundings… incontinent. Days passed and nothing had been eaten. No matter what he tried, Dan could not control Manu’s transcendental upheaval. Eventually university authorities were alerted by other hostel residents, that there were some suspicious activities taking place at the space box block. Dan found this name amusing, considering the ‘inner space’ work going on at this venue.

Humor was cut short when uniformed men burst through the doors and dragged Manu off to the nearest holding facility, while Dan was arrested for the possession of illegal substances. It was the last time they ever saw each other, brief companions on the ultimate journey to end all journeys. Quickly deemed unfit for regular processing, Manu was sent with an armed escort, to the nearest psychiatric institution. Sedated, and stripped off clothes, they confined him to a strange skewed shaped room, with one entire wall painted completely black in color, of the right texture to draw on as a chalk board. He was dressed in a single piece, thick fabric tunic and there was a narrow mattress in the centre of room, with a hat shaped bowl made of thick compressed paper pulp placed on its side. A tiny frosted window let in some hazy light, but impossible to look through for being so high up and close to the ceiling.

It dawned on Manu that this was the perfect place to conduct any critical spiritual activity, ‘without being noticed’ since aberrant behavior was the norm here. So he let himself go completely… into an awakening, that he felt imminent at the core of his being. All bets were off, as this was the loony bin and a primal state took over. Soon enough he discovered that paper bowl, to be intended for use as a toilet; animal existence it was then, ‘so be it’ he thought and continued to piece together complex visions and revelations, by scrawling all over the wall, using his own tunic as an eraser wherever necessary. The whole surface was filled with data, lines connecting and encircling words, numbers and ideas, maps squiggled as tiny side sketches. Elaborate diagrams of machinery and astronomical constellations.

The orderlies at this facility were kind, and could not decipher any of his sincere attempts at making them understand what he was experiencing. They took a keen interest in this wall though, and routinely, candidly clicked pictures of the evolving information up for display. Eventually it would be these same images uploaded online, that would change the course of human history. Their main focus was on bringing Manu back to ‘normal’, so the significance of his channeling visions were overlooked altogether. Now and then, to provide a sense of relief from isolation, Manu was allowed to interact with other patients in the common smoking room. Every character in this place appeared, as if to represent some aspect of Manu’s subconscious from his own perspective alone, like projections of his innermost thoughts.

Patients would display strangely clam, moderate and composed behavior in Manu’s company, contrary to their otherwise violent temperaments. He seemed to be able to engage them in discourse and lively debate; nonsensical to any sane onlooker… but the patients were more than happy to participate in this jovial banter. So no one objected and over time, he was actually encouraged to mingle with others. There was a distinct therapeutic aspect to his communion with these people. Patients showed dramatic signs of recovery around Manu, and these events were meticulously noted by the attendants present, who had started to murmur rumors regaling the unique qualities of this Indian inmate. Doctors in charge however, dismissively ignored this phenomenon as unsubstantiated conjecture.

On an ordinary occasion for a cigarette, sitting on a filthy couch adjacent to some random passages of the Quran, written in Arabic illegibly on the wall by a former inmate; Manu noticed a new face, when a large heavily built African man entered the room. This wide eyed, open mouthed character walked straight up to Manu and asked to borrow a smoke. Without hesitation he offered the whole packet, accompanied with a lighter and gestured the gentleman to come sit. Plopping down his sheer mass caused the seat to seesaw slightly. “Thanks a lot… the name is Adam”. ‘Of course his name is Adam’, Manu chuckled to himself eagerly waiting to hear what this new personality would bring to the table of ideas. Everything had a reason, and so did every interaction, just waiting to unfold.

“Do you smell it?” Adam asked, testing to see how in tune this Indian fellow was, with the way he perceived things. “No… smell what?” responded Manu almost guiltily as if he may have inadvertently caused some unpleasant odor. “The smell of water… it’s everywhere; we drink it, were made of it, bathe in it, spread it about all over the place, inhale it… it just goes on and on. I can’t stand it anymore.” This observation was something uniquely original, and Manu’s attention was locked. “Think about it…” Adam paused to take a deep long drag of the cigarette in his hand, burning off almost a third of it in a single puff. “Our whole world reeks of water! Everything that is life has something to do with water… directly. The stench is unbearable!”

He was shaking with agitation as if pleading to Manu for some reassurance or relief. “But water doesn’t smell of anything” replied Manu confidently “Adam, it doesn’t taste of anything either.” Adam’s suspicions were confirmed; this young Avatar had just begun understanding truth, and was still far from realizing its complete form. Manu reached out and held Adams rough hand firmly. Instantly visions of Adam’s perspective of that same moment, careened across the periphery of his own awareness. The whole room expanded without shifting, allowing Manu to zoom in and out of microscopic details around them. He actually saw the water everywhere, in every living thing, in himself. It was a sledgehammer of insight. Suspended in air, channeling energy and refracting light, oscillating with sound, flowing in currents conducting signals… water was everywhere.

His eyes themselves were composed mostly of water, and as water looked upon water through water; all formed the crystalline patterns of their interconnected molecules. This particulate relationship became highlighted with radiant brilliance, explosive in quality. “Here, take…” Adam said gruffly as Manu’s hand recoiled back with the shock of this lesson “have a drag, you’ll feel better. It helps cloud the smell.” Manu thought, wondered and pondered. For a while they both sat completely engrossed in their own attempts to understand the vision. Adam had never seen this perspective in the presence of another person. Especially not with one, who would add insight to the foundations of experience, by amplifying his perceptual range through induced resonance.

“So…” Manu exhaled as they began to discuss the relationship between fluid dynamics and quantum physics, with the linguistic simplicity of laymen, within the very safe and removed confines of an insane asylum. “It seems like water is that one substance, abundantly present on earth… which displays uniquely anomalous qualities. Water is the only element to exist simultaneously in three states, a liquid with high surface tension, yet at the same time the most powerful solvent known.” The architect within marveled at the structural implications of such a material, “Surely this must have been designed.”

Adam cleared his throat and sat forward, gesturing in the air with both hands as if holding an invisible ball, “Water you see… is intelligent, it has memory and will. It acts with intention, and its ultimate expression… is through you!” Standing up with the sternness of a severe teacher, Adam continued to impart his philosophy to the young Avatar. Attendants stood outside on watch, blissfully unaware of the intellectual breakthrough taking place just feet away. “This means that a seat of consciousness lies within the collective memory of every drop of water on Earth. There is exactly as much water on the planet now, as there was at the dawn of history. It is the perfect self regulating closed circuit loop.” Manu visualized Adam’s monologue with creative fancy.

"There is nothing softer and weaker than water, and yet there is nothing better for attacking hard and strong things." Adam noted, to support his notion that as water swirls, churns and filters through terrain, biology, oceans, and skies; it accumulates data from any contact or interaction, storing information, transmitting it molecule to molecule, crystal to crystal in an attempt to collectively generate some sense, of the state of affairs on Earth. Water could therein act with a persistent and relentless soft force, transforming any landscape, scouring rock with glacial formations, sculpting dunes by inducing air currents and storms… and so on. Leaving etched at every corner of the world, in its wake; the imprint of water’s fundamental source code pattern, remaining as natural contours.

Water soon began reaching for the heavens; defying the physics of gravity, by weaving thick fiber systematically through capillaries in massive trees. Water and sentient nature as they understood it… was one and the same thing, in various forms and guises. One could consider the whole volume of water on earth to be comparable to a single organism, each drop as components delivering on functions, calibrated by the whole. Human beings, animals, plants, insects, marine life, microorganisms; simply expressions of water clusters, honing their abilities to collect data from the environment, in more and more refined terms, for the whole to orchestrate appropriate responses. They were part of a planetary or perhaps even galactic feedback technology, experiencing itself... aware. A technology that was right in front of humanity the whole time as part of them, undetected if it were not for Adam’s acute sense of smell.

“I’m probably situated somewhere near the colossal water creature’s anus, maybe that’s why it smells so bad to me!” he joked, but Manu considered the idea very seriously for a moment. “Maybe there really is a hierarchy to one’s position of influence within this fluid dynamic. It may just be possible to develop the ability to discern where, when and how to deliver the slightest, most delicate intervention, surgical in precision to generate ripples, transformative unto eventual game changing proportion!” They stopped and looked each other in a split moment of forgetfulness, their heavy discourse evaporating into thin air. Both laughed hysterically and Manu actually rolled about the floor holding his sides. “No wonder they had us locked up… sometimes it’s to your advantage, for people to think you’re crazy hah!” he laughed, but they were both crying little too. It was odd and soon disrupted by vigilant staff, who escorted them to separate cells.

Within a few weeks, Manu’s parents had been tracked down by university authorities and contacted. Notified that their son was psychologically unstable and being held at an asylum for observation, his father pulled on all diplomatic strings available to negotiate Manu’s return. Eventually they had no option but travel abroad to personally escort him back home, as authorities could not risk allowing unsupervised passage. It was humiliating. Their close knit extended family and friend circles, shared gossip on the details of this blue eyed boy’s fall from grace. Most stories highly exaggerated of course, sprinkled with steamy fictional prostitution rackets and substance abuse innuendos. Essentially it was rumored that Manu had participated in, or actively perpetrated all sorts of criminal affairs. Rendered as some deviant offender, society’s character assassination strategy was savage and ruthless.

On the day of his release, Manu felt the strange urge to shave before reuniting with his parents. A nurse brought the razor and a pair of scissors, in case he was up for a hair cut as well. He felt peaceful and relaxed, as much psychic work had been done, and allowed attendants to remove his long curly straggly hair and beard. Looking years younger and unrecognizable, Manu walked out of the facility right past everyone there, but no one noticed so as to say goodbye. It was like he just disappeared and they never heard from, or of him again. Most forgot in their illnesses, having ever met such a person. They kept calm and carried on. The long journey home was not pleasant, as his parents were furious, disappointed, worried and sad all at once. He tried to cheer them up with hints or references to his adventures. They would have none of it.

Finding hashish in Manu’s trouser pocket in the laundry basket was the final straw for his mother. Having just invested months of time and resources in therapy and medication to stabilize their son, the threat of any return to psychosis was deeply aggravating. She confronted her husband later that evening, as Manu stormed away refusing medication. “See, this is what the drugs do. He has completely forgotten what he put us through and has the audacity to not take his medicine!” His father looked nervously at the phone. Unfortunately they had discussed this potential situation before and already planned for a contingency strategy. It was time to make the call. Some hours later, as the neighborhood slept quietly, Manu stirred a little as he heard a car, brake to a screeching to halt just outside the window.

It sounded like numerous footsteps and muffled voices scurried through the house soon after, but he could not be sure. By now everyone had convinced him that any situation could be a figment of his imagination, he was crazy after all. A frightening state of constant self doubt had been permanently induced in his psyche with the aid of regular psychotropic medication and psychological conditioning through ‘therapy’. Manu now often did not even trust his own senses, ‘it could be a flashback’ he thought, or hoped. Satisfying his worst fears, the room door burst open… again, and once more men in uniform hauled him out of bed in the dead of night bundling him into a van, and taken to an unknown destination, against his will. These thugs were less professional than their predecessors and handled Manu roughly, almost breaking a wrist as they shoved him in the back seat. It would be one and a half years before he returned home again.


“God, grant me the serenity… to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.” - Serenity Prayer

At first they toyed with him, and pretended to be inspectors from the narcotics bureau, interested in extracting information about Manu’s drug dealer. He pleaded and explained that he knew not of its origins, since a friend had given him the packet; only to be mocked by laughter and taunts. Asking if he could make a phone call, or when he would be released yielded no results, and these vultures spent the rest of the night playing with his emotions. They eventually instructed him to go sleep in the next room, since he was not going anywhere anytime soon. Turning a corner Manu entered the narrow quarter, occupied by a row of sleeping strangers, using dirty sheets as mattresses. A space among them was just enough for Manu to squeeze in between, and mosquitoes buzzed shrill in his ears.

In the corner a dark shadowed figure laid curled, twitching, moaning and writhing. At intervals this very sick looking person would heave, while choking up vomit. A distinct stench in the air indicated, that there was probably some involuntary defecation involved as well. Horrified, Manu lay awake till soon everyone was roused by a buzzer like ring, deafeningly loud. Groggily the men in this room got up, folded their sheets, and proceeded out like zombies. They shuffled in line along a corridor, connecting to a narrow terrace with high barb wire fencing. Manu followed and found himself led to a large concrete trough of green cloudy water. It was a surreal environment.

Their group was joined by others from connected rooms, and soon nearly forty people were gathered around this very cramped space, shoving each other to gain access to the water. This was apparently a place to perform morning cleansing, and the crowd of men with varying ages and sizes, and no apparent common connection; began bathing and brushing their teeth together. The green water became even filthier, now doused with foam, phlegm and grit. It was a stagnant pool, that everyone used mugs to draw their share from. At the end a pipe valve was opened and the tank replenished, with only as much water as had been used, mixed in with the previous grime.

“Scientific therapy!” proclaimed the owner of this private establishment. “Here we use the most scientific of treatments to make sure an addict recovers from disease.” An obese ugly looking man with bulging bloodshot eyes, Mr. Ghosh appeared at the scene. Dressed in a torn vest and cloth wrapped around at the waist, he stumbled on approach as his slippers slipped slightly, on a now soap strewn terrace floor. “Bring the scientific…” he gestured to one of the lackeys at hand. Placed upright against the parapet wall was a medium sized black coated metal pipe. It was delivered to Mr. Ghosh, who had now become the centre of everyone’s attention, the way sheep would react to the presence of a wolf. Other people stepped back a little as he summoned Manu forward.

“Welcome to the ‘living foundation institute’, where you will be staying for the next few months. Now let me introduce you the concept of scientific therapy.” he leered holding up this menacing baton. Suddenly without provocation or a moment’s hesitation he swung the object at Manus thigh. Pain seared through his body as he fell to the slimy floor. Another blow followed and then another, till the beating came to a constant rhythmic pace, sharp and piercing. Curled in fetal position, Manu received most of the violence on his back and feet. They avoided his head; he was a paying guest after all. The rest of the week was just a blur.

By the time a few months had passed Mr. Ghosh began to notice that his newest inmate was strangely anxious about receiving medication regularly. Standing instructions had been left by Manu’s parents to continue the prescribed life term cocktail, of anti psychotic medicine coupled with anti depressants and other drugs, countering side effects. It troubled the owner of this rehabilitation facility that though he was trying to coerce patients out of drug usage, by any means necessary; dosing one of them daily with mood altering chemicals was probably counterproductive to potential ‘recovery’. Doctors abroad had flip flopped diagnoses when dealing with this individual’s spiritual enlightenment, citing symptoms ranging from induced psychosis, to schizophrenia and ultimately delusional paranoia.

Mr. Ghosh was more inclined to believe, and prove that this was a simple case of chronic drug addiction, a useful diagnosis considering that this ensured a steady income for some months. Manu’s parents were relatively wealthy people, and this facility consisted of inmates from the lowest socio economic demographic background. People here had endured lifetimes of heroine abuse, mostly in the form of the freely available crude ‘brown sugar’; a drug that had a peculiar way of corroding the body to skeletal hollowness, forcing its user to catch up with withdrawal symptoms, too awful to tolerate. Fear was the motivational driver linked to using this narcotic substance. Fear would propel these individuals to crime and other heinous activity in order to ensure a next fix. Most of their families were bankrupted by the time any intervention took place.

Therefore Manu’s parents came forth as a golden goose. Free from any constraints, willing to make charitable donations and offering other similar seductive lures. They were introduced to Mr. Ghosh through a common friend, who had heard of their torment, at the hands of this rotten drug addicted son. One detail they kept from this man was the fact that they were quietly embarking on a process to leave the country, resettling permanently. The shame of Manu’s behavior was too much to bear and their social standing had been severely compromised. It was time to run away. Having Manu locked up at a private holding facility indefinitely, was not only good for his own recovery; but perfectly convenient to allow for his parents to shift base, and start a new life abroad without the hassle, of dealing with this ungrateful psychotic brat during that process. There was one minor glitch though.

The ‘living foundation’ de-addiction centre boasted a track record, of delivering the highest recovery rate in the city… owing mostly to their extreme methods and ‘scientific therapy’. Duration of the standard detoxification and programming process was a ninety day period, and for chronic offenders who relapsed repeatedly, a six month course prescribed. Only in cases where an addict had deteriorated to a catatonic state, were they detained for a maximum of nine months. Beyond this, rule of law could not permit further incarceration without due legal representation. Manu’s parents had a target punishment period of eighteen months, a number set partially due to the advice given by a slithering astrologer. It was also more or less the actual amount of time they calculated, needed to start afresh in a new context, taking everything with them. Mr. Ghosh was hesitant at the proposition but when Manu’s father extracted a checkbook right there, handing over a substantial ‘donation’; a deal was sealed along with Manu’s fate.

Somewhere deep down Mr. Ghosh believed that he was a good man, doing the difficult work of dealing with those, who even law enforcement agents would refuse from custody, for fear of withdrawal tantrums. He therefore resolved to experiment with this standing medication instruction. In fact, he wanted to make a point to reinforce an addiction diagnosis. Stopping the pills altogether, Mr. Ghosh watched over the days and weeks ahead, how almost instantaneously Manu came into his own again. He was like a completely different person, full of energy, involved with everything and oddly happy in the worst of places. Soon Manu began a routine of reading every detail in the local news paper, took to exercising and building his physical frame at every opportunity, regularly and consistently. Eventually they ran out of things to teach him with regard to their de-addiction program, and he had emerged as the most dependable member of their micro community behind bars.

Embarrassingly enough, Manu was the only person in the entire centre, who somehow stopped smoking cigarettes and drinking tea… the only two chemical indulgences allowed at this place. Mr. Ghosh had not managed to shake this last habit himself, no matter how sincerely he applied his own program principles, trying desperately to resist that constant craving urge to smoke. It was incredible; the young fellow appeared completely cured of addiction, something that was theoretically impossible.

Regardless of how many people smoked around him all day long, he stuck to a strict, self imposed disciplined regimen of exercise and reading. A library pass was arranged for, and Manu was allowed one visit to select a few books. It was also discovered that he had a gift with cooking, and since there was nothing left for him to learn or participate in at the centre, just half way into his tenure, Manu was sent to the kitchen. For the remaining months, he cooked alone while reading the Gita and Vedas, trying to absorb some ideas of ancient Hindu wisdom, ‘a good place to start’, he reckoned.

Strangely the content of these doctrines were basically very well articulated, coherent structured descriptions of visions, he was only too familiar with. Till chancing upon this material intuitively, the formatting of his spiritual experience was fragmented and abstract in memory, fading with each passing day. In his hands now, a set of doctrines; that were available all along, explaining each and every aspect of the fundamental realization and its nuances. Reading voraciously he absorbed the entire colossus of information as if it were a casual thought. The need to quench this new thirst for knowledge through the written word overwhelmed him with joy, for this medium’s delightful ability to construct so many landscapes of emotion. Simultaneously Manu maintained detailed notes relevant to the efflorescence of a complete vision.

As he meditated upon the studies, synchronicity began to rear its playful head once more, and a feedback loop of coincidences started to emerge. Sitting in remote semi rural squalor, confined to the most horrendous hell on earth, Manu began to notice how his thoughts would appear to flow, well beyond the limitations of his mind and incarcerated body. As he read, and wrote testing the limits of concepts, innovating upon ideas for technology and the next stages of human evolution, he noticed… that articles in the news paper and magazines started to resonate with his journal. If he had an opinion on politics or policy, similar solutions but more detailed than his own, emerged spontaneously.

When he sketched a device or gadget, it was soon advertised as an available working product. Dreams and fantasy sprang forth on cue as popular films or music lyrics; among a whole host of other chilling synchronistic reminders, that all was indeed one. Could the universe have been listening to him? Tuned into collective consciousness irrevocably, Manu became acutely aware of the serious responsibility naturally associated, with this new found psychic weapon of influence upon the world. ‘Perhaps it is the water, flowing though me, understanding me, and connecting me to all that is effectively still me, at a larger scale.” wrote Manu in his tiny journal, while a large vessel full of rice boiled away beside him.

As all trials do, this too came to an end and eventually it was time to be released from that ghastly, toxic, hate ridden, and violent environment. Manu faced a simple dilemma as the fateful discharge date drew close. ‘Forgiveness’ was the most difficult spiritual concept to reconcile with, during his meditation upon the word. Forgiving others for the right reason was key, and being forgiving to one’s own self even more critical. The prospect of coming in contact with the monsters who had subjected him to this penance was too complicated to envision. How would they behave, how should he behave? After much repetitively cyclic thinking on the subject haunting him for weeks, it dawned that complete surrender was the only intellectual rationalization available.

‘If everything is part of a larger design, they too are mere components of the overall tapestry… a necessary evil’ he thought as they stepped out of their air conditioned vehicle. His parents looked hot and flustered at the inconvenience of having to come so far to collect their ward. The American lifestyle had suited them well. It allowed for building further upon their existing prosperity. The bumpy drive back to Calcutta was awfully silent, and his mother tried to initiate some small talk about the weather. No one responded.

“So… what are you planning to do with yourself?” inquired his father, sternly with a hint of disgust. Dinner was bland and slightly uncooked. The house was in disarray, like a ghostly shell stripped bare and abandoned. Manu had been brought up to speed on family developments. He was urged to sign documents necessary to initiate his own passage abroad, to continue living under their supervision till further notice. Having foreseen this eventuality with his now almost prophetic sense of intuition, Manu was prepared with an answer. “There is a spiritual community in the south of India named ‘the city of dawn’. It was founded some decades ago, by a great teacher whose works I have had the privilege to read. I plan to go there and practice architecture as a volunteer community member.”

His parents scoffed at the proposition, and told him dismissively that in their view, this was just another excuse to ‘mingle with hippies’ and do drugs again. However they did not realize that this time, Manu was no longer dependent upon them in any way. He had engineered his own unconditional freedom. He was sober, clean, rational, coherent, intent and organized in his ambition. There were literally no grounds upon which anyone could infringe upon his freedom any longer. He got up from the table, touched their feet seeking blessing, hugged his mother, shook his fathers had and walked out of the house. “Be careful son.” was the last comment he heard, as Manu disappeared into the shadows of night.

Arriving at this community’s location was a long and perilous journey across the subcontinent. He had no money or other means to facilitate passage in the modern world. Soon he noticed directly how everything on earth, was tied fundamentally to a fictional index called currency. Human beings appeared to have lost any notion of empathy, and most activity was conditional on the basis of ensured financial reward. It was difficult to evade various authorities while illegally hopping on and off trains, or stealing fallen fruit from some private garden. The world appeared nothing like his idealistic dreams of a palatable reality. It frustrated him to know of the abundant negativity all about… surely a product of his own spiritual deficiency.

Was he that poor quality an Avatar, to have created such a dismal future to incarnate within? Guilt plagued his heart as disease poverty and suffering lined every road to paradise. Architectural skills were of little use while in transit, and thus he could not render any service, apart from menial labor in exchange for shelter, and the occasional scrap or leftover as food. The grim reality of life led by the vast majority of humanity burrowed deep within his mind, and grief slowly transformed into repressed anger. ‘This must be fixed’ he resolved making the last turn away from the coastal road inland, following a small sign with an arrow, pointing towards the city of dawn.

The community was fairly large and diverse, comprising mostly of locals while the rest originated from various other countries across the globe. They had been united by an idea postulated decades before, credited to a deceased spiritual master. He was the original creator of the term ‘superman’ and intended it, to describe the advent of a next new species, evolved through humanity. In writing, the sage had vividly described a city in the distant future, built by awakened human beings. This place would be in true and resonant harmony with its context, and would implement all of the most advanced technologies at humanities disposal, to form what was to be referred to, as a ‘cradle’ for superior beings. Initially only few dedicated devotees assisted him in laying the foundations to this sacred territory, but upon his passing the usual scuffle for power erupted between these pupils, and the project lost its momentum. It was the election of a vibrant national leader, which changed the fate of the place.

This newly elected Prime Minister of India was a dynamic and charismatic visionary leader, who also happened to be an avid reader of the sage’s works. It occurred to the politician as he made his rise through the ranks towards a position of vital importance, that a spiritually induced, futuristic vision for national strategy was most appealing. Finally a suitable person of influence had come to power, that actually saw the virtue in true spiritual inquiry and research. Having heard of this collective, quaintly tucked away in a lush humid forest, attempting to practically apply the master’s teaching, an immediate mandate was issued, declaring this territory as an autonomous funded institution.

As Manu walked, now bare foot down the dusty approach road to this community settlement, a large convoy with sirens drove past him at full speed, kicking dust in the air and choking him, making it impossible to see or breathe. The Prime Minister had planned his first visit here on this day. As the dust settled, Manu trudged on and soon arrived at a tap attached to a small platform. He washed his face, hands and feet before drinking deeply, the cold water like trickles of heaven gushing down his parched throat. Energy came flooding back and he prepared to be introduced to this legendary place. At first it seemed like there was nothing much going on, a few scattered huts and shelters, with some construction materials stacked here and there.

Plenty of food gardens dotted the spaces between trees, which looked young and strong, providing adequate shade. A light cool breeze continually flowed in the air; it was a bit like what he would imagine paradise on earth to be. There was much wisdom in selecting this location, evident by the unfolding development that lay ahead, just a little further down the winding dirt track. Exploring the extents of this place, Manu could not find any semblance of boundary. It was an open community, with no gates, fences or walls. Aside from spiritual practice, all focus of activity here was directed towards the engineering and construction, of a secretive ‘inner chamber’.


10011 11000 11011 10111 10011 01110 01011 11111 01001 01001 11110 00001 01011 11100 11100 11100 11000 00001 10000 00101…

In the primordial world, now that distribution of its extents had been felt, permeating and enveloping a once dry and barren rock; the time came for water to begin organization, of overall structural principles. The source code was known subconsciously by every droplet discharged, seeping and probing deep beneath the surface, swirling in the oceans and rivers, holding strong at glaciers and ice continents, or suspended high in the sky. Earth had vast quantities of processed material available, probably fallout of a last creation cycle, though water knew not of any such historic recurrence. Its memory had been wiped clean, and a new root program or governing principle, with time bound developmental instructions was induced. ‘Neptune’ as some would later refer to this programmed entity; felt anew, recharged and replete with energy.

Seeking out appropriate molecules, some dispersed in the atmosphere, some extracted by corrosion from hard crystalline rock, it was with these basic building blocks carefully arranged by water, suspended in water… that significant configurations emerged. First prototypes were clumsy and it took some time to arrange the system, such that all vibrations were appropriate for optimum output. Neptune noticed that parts of his body would function with varied efficiency dependent upon their contextual physical conditions, in terms of planetary location. It required unwavering meditative concentration to factor in all these variables, with considerations at levels of complete insight, which the ordinary human mind may never know. Integrating all components seamlessly, much the same as Yogis would eventually attempt to consciously influence their own bodies down to the last cell; Neptune ensured uninterrupted flows of information across his corporeal system.

With complexity in formations attaining to higher or subtler definition, a unique cluster of water molecules emerged, as a particularly peculiar energy signature. Just being radiant and resplendent in pattern was not sufficient, so this enlightened agglomeration busily set about work, attempting to create an information storing device from available resources. Neptune’s attention was drawn to this tiny experiment, as he witnessed himself creating some very strange structural patterns indeed. What would later be referred to as a form of the holy trinity, depicted symbolically by Neptune’s trident; a threefold prototype was proposed, reminiscent of water’s own principles. Flexibility allowed for these three emerged molecule types, to have variable combinations, creating a first chemical language. DNA, RNA and protein floated for moments, but in a flash all of water came to instantaneously share this knowledge.

An idea had been placed forth, allowing water to store information outside of itself for the first time. Like all derivatives, naturally this method was inferior to water’s own involved Divine technology, and information stored here was a fraction of the complete story, but good enough for then. There was profound potential in this act, for should water work hard and long enough, investing the necessary energy in refining this language, perhaps someday the whole message of its source code could be downloaded into another medium, for the sake of preserving Divine knowledge.

That first cluster of enlightened water molecules, were now dispersed far and wide by natural calls to duty, tending to other clusters like teachers; communicating how to combine these and other building blocks, creating more and more refined information storage units. This agglomerate would often find themselves in each other’s company, at intervals for short durations of time. Perhaps this was just a mere coincidence, what with chaotic flows and swirls, evaporations and condensations, constantly providing for chance encounter. Soon it was realized that this was too precise and rhythmic, to be attributed to chance. It seemed as if Neptune himself was arranging for their interactions, but that would have been too much of an honor to consider, so they humbly went about the work. Of course Neptune had indeed done all this secretly, but clandestine only because he was often unsure, if this provision was his own will, or the playing out of an original source program. So taking any credit for the workings of reality was out of the question, as Neptune was well aware of even greater forces at play. Perhaps this new technology could help Neptune understand how this all came to be… and why.

Yearning for understanding was met triumphantly by the esteemed council of water clusters, now growing in numbers, networking findings and performing experiments, while taking advantage geological machinery available. Earth’s mantle and crust was the perfect laboratory, with a wide array of heating and cooling, pressurizing and inflating mechanisms, which allowed water to test prototypes, in a whole variety of terrestrial conditions. Molecules were being constantly refined to form future components, for exiting envisioned machinery… when one day ‘organization became the key to success’, as a single cell organism. There were several perspectives on which way to go with this model, and Neptune graciously allowed all innovative water clusters, to express themselves freely and create a wide array of cellular organisms to complement each other.

More importantly the ultimate objective was implied feedback regarding all possible scenarios on Earth, so that Neptune could better understand its context, in order to discover truth. At a reunion amongst now old friends… marveling at the efflorescence of their original chemical language, into the emergence of biology and botany; it occurred to the collective, that perhaps combinations of these ‘cells’ could serve some purpose, in the manifestation of even more complex relations between information systems. Just like that, pushed into being only by the daring of an idea, multi cellular complex life sprung upon the world, and water was happy. Much work had been done.

Of all the fantastic developments championed by those first Avatar water molecules, one innovation was of particular interest. Photoreceptor proteins allowed Neptune to access information regarding energy in the form of light. Up to this point water was aware of light and how it passed through its body energizing, rejuvenating and healing, but could not actually see it, or process data of that nature. Neptune knew of the light but longed to view it. The instant a first photon was detected, it felt like a thunderbolt though Neptune’s mind; Lucifer making his presence felt… God was not alone.

Another consciousness had announced itself, and then another and still more, as senses poured in. Together they longed to actually look upon the source of all this energy. It would be a long time before the first retinal eye, opened up in a creature further down the line of evolutionary progress. God looked about and saw an endless expanse of water, but there was also a glimmer of shore. The horizon drew this intent awareness, as water sought to look upon water… from outside of itself, and hopefully eventually gaze upon the source, or origin of felt energy.

It was an impossible boundary to cross, and all sorts of design confluences had to be allowed for, so that rival schools of thought would collaborate, to develop the ultimate water based information gathering machine, with ocular vision. Washing up on the shore, this organism gasped and sputtered to a quick death. Many more were sent forth and consciousness understood that the Aquarian element within had to be compromised by introducing a reptilian and insect drone ethic. Authors of this design approach, were water clusters from a revolutionary tribe; who believed that only a certain cold blooded approach, in terms of design morality, coupled by ruthless mechanics, was applicable to the pursuit of this ‘unknown yonder’.

With hesitation water ultimately yielded to evidence at hand, and a reptilian and insect infested world seemed to be a feasible solution, for mobile targeted data retrieval. Simultaneously and secretly a contingency strategy was prepared. Once again the original Avatar council was summoned, and set the task to correct this compromise in design morality for the sake of true knowledge. Surely there was a better way, so the best of thinkers gathered and crystallized, vibrating with the greatest concentration ever achieved, and out of matter, an appropriate mind to govern organism emerged.

Concealed, nurtured and kept secret, these parallel streams of prototypes were allowed to grow in the terrestrial beyond, where other rampaging water clusters roamed free, savagely devouring and infesting all in their wake. Scurrying about in the underbrush, then climbing up trees, working together as collaborations, enabling the growth of their tribes, a new ethic was in play. Noticing this, the Divine witnesses were satisfied with their Avatars works, and with the usual synchronistic series of coincidences… mass extinctions were executed, preserving only desired specimens for the opportunity to develop further.

Easily enough water made slight adjustments to climate and in turn terrestrial conditions, while selected survival of species did the rest, running a natural eugenics program to discard inferior machinery. Some reptilian and other elements were preserved, but as relics or reminders of wisdom past. Symbiotic ecology needed preservation for self regulation of the system; a necessary evil, and the beginnings of intrinsic redundancy in design. Water desired beauty, and gracefully strove forth, refining and defining its tree of life, to understand that which could be felt, but not yet known.

The jungle was once thick with vine and trees, sheltering and protecting. With massive climate upheavals and shifting of tides, a tribe of simians were forced to move out into the plains, exposed and fearful of predators lurking in the shadows. Those who ventured out before never returned, but now there was no option as their home had disappeared in a matter of weeks. Thirteen male specimens accompanied by a few females, each carrying one or two of their young, were lost in thick grass, too tall to look over. It was a dangerous move, as any kind of beast could spring at them from any side, and they would not be able to anticipate anything.

Gripped with fear, their leader suddenly cried out in pain as he walked straight into something very hard. Upon inspecting this obstacle it became evident that they had walked up to the edge of a large rock, or mound. Deftly they climbed the vertical surface of this massive wall, well used to scaling heights of lost trees. After a certain elevation there was a ledge, deep enough for everyone to fit safely and at the end of this platform, a shallow cave like hollow in the wall. They slept for days, exhausted and sheltered. This would become a first safe secluded place, in the terrestrial realm to call home, and continue the divine work from. Immediately all other tribes on this vibration frequency of water clusters, sought out shelter wherever they were, intuitively seeking peace.

While out foraging for food and critters, a young ape like creature chanced upon a very unusual plant, or fruit, or tuber. He couldn’t really tell for sure and it was definitely not a snail or responsive insect. Carefully plucking a single pod, the beast first sniffed this mushroom, then licked it, looked at it closely and finally ate it with a great amount of suspicion. It was well known that eating certain things could make one very ill indeed, so venturing into new food habits was not encouraged. They were to eat what everyone else ate, and that was something taken for granted, though never really instructed in the absence of language.

Chewing this fungus was not all bad. It actually left a strangely pleasant lingering aftertaste, close to animal flesh but not so smelly. Having not collapsed in a heap, or broken out into a rash, or suffered any pain whatsoever, it was concluded that this was in fact an edible substance, and he proceeded to fill his belly with as much of it around, to make sure that this was truly safe to take back home. Feeling a little drowsy, and as the sun was setting bringing on the cold, this creature decided to head back to the tribe. He would return the next day and gather more food for them, or so he planned. It was about to be a much longer walk back than he anticipated.

By the time this now upright, beaming happy ape-man reached the others, it was early in the morning, and the tribe’s hunters were preparing to venture out. Only the most physically strong would try to subdue beasts. It was a noble and dangerous task, well worth the risk as carcasses fed everyone for days. Gatherers on the other hand, were those who had developed knowledge through experience of the properties in nature’s elements. Theirs was a more leisurely life in comparison, as they deliberately avoided territories where predators were known to lurk. It was knowledge that ensured survival for these wanderers, not brute force. The ape-man announced his return with a cheerful grunt to the other ape like creatures. He was largely ignored owing to how early it was, as most were still half asleep. It had been a night full of rich experience and magical visions for him, and for the first time he felt the need to express an idea… one that was not rooted in basic survival.

Grunts and baring teeth were not enough, so with a great deal of frustration he jumped about trying to get the attention of the rest, only to annoy everyone and get nearly thrashed in the process. Grunting and thumping about in vain, the strangely behaving ape-man sat down to sulk, when a lingering memory of the previous night’s journey, reminded him of something he heard. Something in his head, something he had never heard before. Recapitulating the sound in his mind, he grunted twice and then thumped the floor. Then again he slowly grunted twice, and then thumped the floor. “Grunt grunt thump… grunt grunt thump… grunt grunt thump…” slowly, rhythmically and without breaking pattern of the code, he consistently kept on going. “Grunt grunt thump… grunt grunt thump…” the ape-man had just unwittingly defined an origin of music.

He kept up this beat for hours on end, and the rest of the tribe soon became quite worried with this aberrant behavior. By the time hunters returned empty handed, most were extremely hungry and tempers had begun to flare. This persistent noise emanating from the corner “grunt grunt thump…” was not just annoying, but now started causing group anxiety, that this sound may well draw in undesirable predators as dusk settled. At first they tried earnestly to coax the young gibbon to sleep, but he would not stop, as if locked in some sort of trance. The animal mind had not yet achieved an elegant definition of moral reference, and water deeply worried that this ideal may never be attained to. Reminiscent of fundamental flaws in earlier prototypes, cold blooded psychology returned for the briefest instant, as the leader of this tribe raised a large rock above his head… and without the slightest emotion, slammed it down on the ape-man’s body, crushing his bones, flattening lungs spattering blood all about.

The rest just cowered for a moment, and then returned to their sleeping dreams now that the horrid racket had come to an end. This first incarnation of ‘Hanuman’ consciousness, was not yet quite dead though, and in his final moments gurgling and sputtering away, he experienced a last vision. It was the most beautiful radiant flower like glowing spiral pattern, so enchanting that he half forgot the excruciating pain. Dipping a finger in blood, he made a few streaks on the wall in front of his eyes, and tried to trace what he saw on the jagged surface. A few lines and dots later, his energy signature was released back to the source code, downloading his entire life experience into water’s collective memory.

Reviewing this data instantaneously, the over-mind became acutely aware of the sheer volume of information, which this particular organism had managed to store. It was a quantum leap in data compression, this attributed specifically to the interaction of two completely separate organisms, via standard consumption protocol. One form had induced a vibration resonance within the other triggering an energetic frequency; of a quality last generated, only by the original Avatar molecules. It was the ultimate Eureka moment, and immediately a standing instruction was sent forth to design and execute, a radical overhaul of interface interactions between species. Consumption was no longer merely viewed in light of nutrition, but as an avenue towards learning.

Triggers as well as receptors were tailor made to influence the evolution of species, as psychedelic compounds were born in the plant kingdom. The human neo cortex was developed as one of those targeted design patterns, presenting a complete solution. Replete with the complexity of a massive folded surface, while maintaining plasticity through its life span, this brain allowed for adaptation and higher intelligence. ‘Awareness and consciousness in a biological machine’ was a fascinating prospect; one that water never anticipated when initially setting out, to generate simple information gathering and storage feedback devices. It was postulated that perhaps these organisms composed mostly of water, were somehow deriving a certain subset of the collective water consciousness, as a ‘ghost in the machine’ byproduct. However radical such a theory may have been, water had not yet noticed the greater fallout of its work.

Music and art spread like wildfire amongst the humanoids, for once uttered… an Avatar idea is forever part of the whole. Intuitively like a blooming garden, all minds were enlightened with this new set of information and its formidable potential. Grunts and thumps, gestures and facial expressions, body language and mating rituals crystallized into a commonly understood communication system. A controversial British scientist in the future would attribute this phenomenon to the ‘morphogenetic’ field of resonance, a term coined to describe such spontaneous efflorescence.

This evolving collective awareness was driven in part, by the information systems embedded in all life through water, and its channeling seamlessly throughout the whole. However by music, dance, art, language, ritual, paganism and sexuality; the human race had moved much beyond the domain of ordinary data centric mechanics. This species was developing a wise and awakened mind of its own, far more complex and unique than water had ever envisaged.

Every time the overseeing Gods deemed it necessary to intervene, Avatars were now being born through human form… far greater in capacity to influence, than those first enlightened water molecule clusters, though composed of them. They could communicate with their kin, sending messages of truth rippling throughout history, in the most graceful and poetic manner. In and out of humanity these great sages appeared and disappeared, sometimes as teachers, sometimes as thinkers, some as meditation masters vibrating with still silent action, some even as entertainers; all turning the course of history with ease, as if doing so to a battleship with a mere oar. The masters had many names, and mankind strove forth confidently, slowly forgetting ancient history as story or myth, separating from their aquatic parent and exploring the world almost autonomously.

Humanity evolved many intellectual theories regarding its origins, and there was much evidence of a fossil record, indicative of clear evolutionary progression. Religions and science quarreled over the findings, debating the nature of some evolutionary ‘source’ driver, as dogma wreaked thick on both sides. Water‘s inherent wisdom and intelligence as the basis of all life, was forgotten altogether. When few began to ponder upon water’s anomalous properties, ideas and rough explanations were snuffed out with contentious rejection, and dubbed as pseudo-science. There was one particular revolutionary Japanese thinker, who performed a series of rather curious experiments. Subjecting samples of water to varied treatments or intentional emotions, and then flash freezing these samples in cryogenic refrigeration; this pioneer noticed that resulting frozen crystals, displayed vastly differing pattern formations.

Beauty, symmetry and organization of said water structures depended directly upon the positive or negative influences, those particular samples had been subjected to. He deduced that water was aware of vibration frequencies and energy signatures. Apparently water would respond to input, in a demonstrable and scientifically rigorous way. The academic community was still skeptical, for this would imply that most water being consumed was probably highly toxic by structural deficiencies, owing to the abusive treatment it would invariably be subject to, in order to reach the average urban home. It was profoundly discomforting, to entertain a notion that water retained memory of its experiences, as water was thoroughly abused by human activity and industry.

In the modern world, this fluid was regarded as a mute lifeless material, and the postulated idea of water possessing awareness was preposterous. Inexplicably, no one dared work this concept the other way around; considering that perhaps this responsive substance was in fact… that aware, intelligent ‘other’ entity, which humanity longed to find. Water’s key defining involvement with the origin of species, never came up. Sending out probes and signals to the deepest recesses of outer space, searching for water on Gliese planets in star systems far away, humanity assumed that water could potentially harbor life. It was not yet realized, that water itself… was alive.


"Architecture is the reaching out for the truth." - Kahn

At last being an architect was useful in this new context and Manu was soon absorbed into the planning department for the ‘city of dawn’, handling now abundant funding available towards this community’s development, courtesy their central government. Everything he sought to learn at university abroad was now available through practical experience on site. Here, concerns about ecologically appropriate development practices evolved seamlessly. Diverse fields of study could converge to manifest a truly holistic approach to human settlement patterns and systems.

It was a formidable place of action but like all utopias, there were differing perspectives amongst community members, on how to move forward. Every aspect of growth was open for discussion, and residents experienced rich participatory involvement in the manifestation of their own neighborhoods. An absence of unnecessary bureaucracy or red tape allowed for a wide array of construction prototypes to unfold. Citizens experimented with materials, structural systems, innovative forms and expressions of aesthetic beauty.

An overall master plan guided development protocol, as a grand swirling urban settlement pattern, anticipating the influx of thousands of future residents. Located at the central eye of this spiral shaped city plan, was the construction site of a secretive inner chamber. The Indian government did not ask much in return for their uncompromising support, except that this one project within the overall development was to be strictly off bounds to all non government personnel. Highly intricate, massive machinery would be ferried in and out of this place while no community member ever asked any questions. Its deep cover secrecy was common knowledge, and it remained a site, which they cooperatively ignored or avoided.

The bold newly elected Indian Prime Minister had many advisors, all pointing at the standard old world issues, regurgitating the same old speeches and renewing the same old promises. This man had other ideas. It was through the power of information and technology that India would strive to rise out of her tattered post colonial struggles. The world he now recognized; was a very different place. Political predecessors only had a handful of limited forums available to them for discourse and governance. Now as most citizens of this country had been connected to central networking systems, via fully integrated mobile information technology, the youth of India were ready to instantaneously act as one, harnessing the true power of seamless communication.

Somehow a core issue had to be raised, that could harmonize the diverse communities spread across this massive country, towards a single identifiable common agenda. Inducing radical nationalism and ushering the rise of a Hindu state, became this new leader’s strategy. Hinduism, as they conveniently defined, was not a religion… but understood as a ‘way of life’. Naturally the government had to eventually define this said way of life, in order to explain the basic principles of what a citizen of this Hindu state should aspire to. It was a challenge to articulate a common code of conduct, but luckily for this young ingenious leader, history had already done this work for him in the form of the Bhagwat Gita. Spread about as the only true doctrine, quickly the Hindu nation descended into childish antics while comparing their holy book to the content of other religious manuscripts. The Gita like all spiritual verse could be interpreted from a number of viewpoints; it’s most immature reduction claiming virtue as a guide in the art of waging warfare.

Countless Avatars had supplied humanity with volumes of supplementary information supporting the central theme of this divine verse. Words unfortunately always fell short regardless of permutation or combination. The source code of water’s fundamental principles, now manifest in matter through living nature, spearheaded by the human spirit; was closely mirrored by the Gita’s essence, but not complete. All central religious tenants from every strain of human consciousness, had a common data vibration frequency, but varying in type, tailor made to the nuances of their times. All would attempt to energetically influence water based life forms, coaxing them out of ignorance, pointing towards truth. All would fall short owing to the limitations of language.

The sheer amplitude of this Gita’s message marked its edge over other utterances, absorbing them, accommodating for every perspective under its canopy of knowledge. Mirroring the potential of their core philosophy the Indian nation worked tirelessly to manifest their greatest dreams, and wildest aspirations. Reputed for their ability to channelize intelligence to refined perfection as the best technical and medical minds in the world, Indians set a course to modernize and digitize their reality. At the forefront of this vision, ‘the city of dawn’ emerged as a new spiritual and technological capital for India, covert, unsuspecting to the rest of humanity.

Heading the planning department of this city was no easy task for Manu, as his spiritual insight and fitness to lead this cutting edge experiment was consistently challenged in public forum. Many vied for this position of key influence and would recklessly probe this starry eyed man for intellectual loopholes. His past riddled with tenures at psychiatric and drug addiction therapy centers, only added to skepticism. It was only by the force of in-depth understanding that he managed to consistently fend off naysayers. Sometimes through poetry or art, on other occasions with the aid of thoroughly researched data, Manu ensured that this place was designed to embody the ultimate ideal, envisioned by its original visionary mystic founder. It was to be a cradle for the ‘superman’, home to a next superior species, born from humanity.

“Spirit is in process of unfolding through matter, by its involved complexity. This process has been active since the beginning, if there were any such conceivable thing.” Manu commenced with the oratory conviction of a seasoned public speaker. “Ours may not even necessarily be the ‘only’ manifest of Divine joy, for it is believed that there have been many cycles of creation, and will be many more. Moreover, should our linear conceptions of temporal and spatial evolution be cast aside, we may notice that, every possible reality could be occurring simultaneously. History itself would be but a flicker, when measured up against an Infinite and Eternal canvas of creativity.”

A representative of the more scientifically inclined members present at this community meeting, was quite bothered by this simultaneous mixing of references, to philosophy and physics and asked “How exactly do you see this ‘divine’ realm to have relevance to our everyday lives, and why are we wasting precious time discussing these vague and ambiguous lofty ideas in such a forum?” Well used to these disrespectful and ignorant narrow conceptions, Manu turned toward this protesting member of the audience, and replied with the warm smile of a parent explaining the basics of life to a child.

“My dear friend… we occupy a realm where to the best of our analytical capacities, it is found that regardless of how finely we divide space or take matter apart, there seems to be no end in sight. Even your Higgs-boson or God particle proved to be just another Pandora’s Box of mystery. The deeper we go; the further any ‘fundamental’ unit seems to get, as complexity within every quantum of space, is apparently infinite.” He paused a moment making sure that the rest of this gathering was keeping up with the explanation. “We appear in a universe infinitely large, now seen to be composed of building blocks, that are in turn, infinitely small… and humanity stands on a knife edge, as some scalar median. The same goes for time ironically, as we can dissect micro, milli, nano seconds and so on, but there is no quantifiable or identifiable zero time, which also effectively implies, that every moment is therefore actually eternal.”

Manu stopped, exhaled deeply and allowed briefly for the eternity of that moment to be felt. “All these moments thread together through human history, so incredibly short, yet a stream of eternal moments, and thus an eternity in itself. We are infinite and eternal, yet also fleeting and miniscule. Ours is truly the perfect trap, a riddle unimaginable.” By now a few friends had begin to rally around Manu’s ideas, an entourage of dedicated followers and they began to applaud this fantastic insight. Of course this was also intended as a slight, to rival scientific rationalist groups present, but that was only in jest.

“So if we step back and look at what we are dealing with,” insisted Manu raising a hand to his friends cutting off their cheering games, “it can be seen that, human conceptions of Divine Reality, are starting to resemble the nature of our own reality; which leads to the conclusion that this plane could evidently be, a Divine field of action. Every point of time and space, now shown though entanglement to be fundamentally connected; separate only to deluded, defined, restrained and narrow perception.” Veering off into the metaphysical, Manu continued “Every aspect of the Action being perfect; a fact denied only by ego, which strays through fantasy, of being the driver… separate from the whole. Ego in human nature though is comfortably part of divine script, as there is no ‘alternative’ to the Plan.” Some could not distinguish if he was speaking on the subject of city planning, or if this was a more mystic reference.

Either way he had made his point, and sat to allow for the rest of the representatives to present their arguments, propose a wide array of hypotheses and their applications to community living. Manu tried his best to integrate as many feasible ideas put forth by these peers as possible, but ultimately critical decisions had to be taken up by his own moral conviction. He had no guide, no teacher and often knew not if he was indeed doing what was right. Only faith propelled his movement and soon enough, a radiant resplendent city emerged faster and more efficient in every way than had ever been achieved before. This place was finally a true museum of consciousness.

On a cool breezy evening, as Manu drove back from office to his quarters on a gallant motorcycle, when he chanced upon a lone figure walking in the dwindling light. Upon approaching he noticed that it was a woman, and could not resist lingering a glance at her perfectly formed figure. It was late and ‘surely this young lady should not be walking alone in the dark’, he rationalized while pulling over to offer her a lift. Tara was very suspicious at first, and completely doubted this stranger’s motives, but there was something in his eyes, something familiar and enchanting that brought down her guard. On the way Manu casually asked if she had eaten dinner, and offered to take her to a Tibetan restaurant, famous for its ‘momos.’

Now curious about this charismatic man, Tara hugged his waist tight as he drove them stealthily and fast to what would be their first date. His long hair and beard blew wispily in the wind, and had the lingering fragrance of a pleasant shampoo. Manu introduced Tara to the culinary delights of this quaint intimate tucked away little restaurant, with great enthusiasm. He hoped she would like it, and washing down the greasy wholesome food with warm lemon tea, Tara found herself completely infatuated with their mealtime conversation. Manu was a great listener, and for the first time in her brief series of encounters with men, someone allowed her the space to express freely. She felt comfortable, and told him some very personal stories.

“My father would not like it if he knew I was here” Tara confessed as the meal drew to an end. “He is a senior cleric in our community, and a very pious Muslim. The idea of any spirituality outside of the Quran is an abomination in his view. I had to lie and pretend to be out camping in order to get here. I would rather have a mind opened by wonder, than one closed by belief. Surely you understand?” Manu rubbed his head, thinking hard. He was acutely aware of the fact that this was the first time he had ever yearned for a woman to this degree, and that too in a matter of hours. ‘Naturally… a necessary inherent obstacle’ he thought, and then held her hand reassuringly to say “Tara, don’t worry. Everything can be worked out. How about we take a walk? There is a lovely beach down the road, and the sea under the moonlit sky is just gorgeous.” They ventured out, and talked the night away while foaming waves licked their feet. The stars were bright and dense and one could almost see the Milky Way.

Under this sky, they made love for the first time, itchy and uncomfortable owing to all the sand getting everywhere, but beautiful and humorous in its own graceful way. They saw each other in the throes of orgasmic ecstasy for who they truly were, and what they had always been to each other, what seemed like so many times over. Déjà-vu, recurring memory, transcendental communion… who knew, and they did not care to label it. Tara cried and cried. She had felt so alone for so long, longing, yearning for her soul mate. Now nestled in his strong arms, she felt peace, calm serene. Manu on the other hand, being naughty as usual, felt a sudden burst of playfulness in the afterglow of pleasure. He proceeded to go down Tara’s body tracing the contours of her rippling flesh with his tongue and lips, eventually arriving between her legs, when all of a sudden she reached for his head and pushed him gently away protesting “No, not there Manu.”

Perplexed and somewhat embarrassed for fear of having crossed a line inadvertently, Manu looked up at his blushing woman, showing her an irresistible cute wide eyed puppy face. He did not realize that this reaction was not rooted in any shyness or discomfort, and hence there was no way to emotionally blackmail or coax Tara into this particular act. Dissatisfied with failed attempts at trying to pleasure the girl more, he inquired as to what the real problem was “Is it me, am I coming on too strong?” worried Manu. “No,” replied Tara, “not at all… in fact you are wonderful, and I really enjoyed everything we did up to now, but just let go of this one thing, please?” He probed further, seeking reason and hesitantly she began to reply with a trembling voice. “It is a custom in our community, one that goes back many generations, to have young girls go through a certain procedure just before attaining puberty.”

Manu looked a little disturbed, anticipating the horrific story to follow. “Long ago, my aunt and her friend came into my bedroom at night, held me down, and with a sharp blade cut off a pinch of skin down there, so that I could not pleasure myself like the infidels, as I grew.” She shed another tear and was trembling all over upon recollecting the incident. Female circumcision was one of those barbaric rituals of ego centric male domination that still haunted the modern world. It was a ghastly practice and justified or counterbalanced by clerics, with the token male foreskin removal. That gesture was nothing in comparison to the devastating implications caused by the absence of a clitoris to a woman’s life. It was the most ruthless form of control, and those religious communities practicing such mutilation, would eventually bare their pain by behaving accordingly on Earth.

Finally the most beautiful and perfect woman he could have envisioned appeared before him, and they had fallen hopelessly in love, but Manu was also furious. He could not shake the anger of knowing what these false guardians had done to her perfect body. It was too closely reminiscent of his treatment at the discretion of similar arbitrary authority figures. He would protect her from that day forth, and decided to never let Tara out of his sight again. They resolved to marry eventually, but Manu had much work to be done before then, for an Indian wedding; and especially one between diverging faiths, was no simple affair. “We have to make everything right Tara.” Manu mused over breakfast early one morning.

“To continue, we must first achieve the power of being good, simply because it is good to be good, and not as some clumsy reaction, pursuit of reward… or induced by guilt.” Tara nodded and knew what he meant with these pearls of wisdom. By now their relationship had flourished into an unspoken mutual understanding, almost telepathic in nature. She believed him, believed in him, loved him, cared for him, and provided a sense of balance and calm to his turbulent life. She was his muse, his inspiration, his reason, his strength. What he discovered experientially, Tara already knew intuitively. She was a naturally awakened being, and did not require the ordeal of a psychedelic voyage to understand truth. Gnosis was ingrained in her total being, resonant with every water cluster constituting her body, a unique energy signature, radiant and beautiful.


‘Who really knows, and who can swear… how creation came, when or where? Even the gods came after creation’s day… who really knows; who can truly say, when and how did creation start? Did He do it? Or did He not? Only He, up there, knows… maybe; or perhaps not even He.’ -Rig Veda

Manu sought guidance. It had been too long since his last communion with divine wisdom, in a truly tactile sense. He felt the way one would, when having not made a phone call home for ages… wondering how everyone is, yeaning to hear a familiar voice. The world had evolved into a strictly regulated consumer driven society, where most governing institutions deemed it unnecessary for passive citizens to explore altered states of consciousness. Those responsible for designing society’s indulgences had specifically chosen caffeine, nicotine and alcohol as the trinity of legally available narcotics substances. These also happened to be some of the most addictive chemicals known to mankind, as well as those that caused the worst physical detriment to public health, over and above the grimly uncreative states of consciousness that they would induce, regardless of dosage.

It was a double victory for the corporate machine, as its human work force was chemically induced into passive labor, besides the formidable profits earned by the healthcare and pharmaceutical industry; as fallout of the consumption of these three permitted recreational devices. Those few, who managed to steer clear of substance abuse, were indoctrinated into other forms of chemical enslavement. Commencing at early stages of development, enlightened ‘indigo’ children were diagnosed with autism, attention deficit disorders and a whole host of other ridiculous labels and treated accordingly, compromising the advent of a new species. Student counseling, couples therapy and other similar pretenses served as platform, for further distribution of dark energy infested chemical cocktails. Healers had been replaced by charlatans, working toward profit; resulting in disastrous mass psychological health consequences for the species.

Post colonial India had typically followed the command of western developed nations, to also be included in this tyrannical circle of democratic governments. Though Hinduism clearly advocated the use of psychoactive compounds in spiritual technique and as medicine, all recorded in scripture; brainwashed self proclaimed modernist politicians allowed for this aspect of their own culture, to be erased completely. Replaced by industrially produced, highly refined toxic chemicals under the guise of social lubricants or mental stabilizers, the original strain of psychedelic understanding was lost to the Indian subcontinent as with many of the other nations. There were a few exceptions to the rule as always, and sure enough after researching thoroughly, Manu chanced upon a loophole in international law, that allowed for certain countries to preserve ancient medicine in the light of national heritage.

Among these places, in South America; Peru was home to a mysterious potion, derived from the ‘vine of the soul’. Buried deep in the last remaining Amazon belt of the region, a certain double helix shaped creeper vine, grew unsuspecting to invaders. In order to activate the spirit molecule within this formidable plant, it required brewing with a whole host of other native root, bark and seed additives; in specific proportion, with precise method. This recipe was a closely guarded secret kept by the shamans of the jungle, who had been exploring this medicine ever since the first tribes sought shelter, so many millennia before. Representatives of the Crowns, those original brute colonizing empires, managed to burn all sacraments, destroy most monuments, rape, pillage and annihilate all in their path. Except for those enlightened few, who preserved knowledge deep within the forest, while maintaining communion with the divine, and allowed survival by the grace of God.

After much deliberation, reviewing of saved financial resources and planning, Manu decided that he would visit Peru, but specifically to attend a unique conference organized in a remote location, integrating shamans from around the world. The word ‘Shaman’ itself was a broadly defining term applicable to mystics, thinkers, seers and philosophers. Therefore this event could potentially bring the most interesting of people together, under unique visionary circumstances. At the centre of this effort was Alex, a veteran psychedelic voyager, activist and internationally persecuted fugitive. Long before this medicine had been classified as an illegal narcotic substance; it was Alex who first returned to the developed world with this potion, from his teenage voyages into the Peruvian jungles.

A dream had propelled him to this expedition, one where he saw a vision of beckoning spirits in nature, handing over a great responsibility. Following the clues of this dream, Alex found himself ultimately in the company of Amazonian shamans, partaking in their medicine. Being a bright enterprising and driven young lad, he took some of this potion back with him to America, where he travelled with pioneers of the Hippie movement, introducing this new dimension of consciousness, replete with proper ritual and due spiritual protocol. Novelty and intensity of this compound’s effects drew seekers by the hundreds, and Alex emerged as a potential new age cult leader of sorts.

It was not long before the concerned authorities narrowed down on this minor experiment, owing to its major implications for inspiring radical thought. A trap was set, but Alex was lucky enough to be tipped off at the right time, to avoid being apprehended. Just as he sent a shipment of the medicine across from Peru for selective distribution among colleagues abroad, the whole operation was intercepted at a drop off point, by heavily armed platoons of law enforcement agents, rendering Alex unable to return home… permanently. Effectively Peru itself had become his prison, for he could never cross an international border again. It would be from here, that Alex would commence his truly divine work.

In order to reach this place from India, it made most sense to charter a course via America, so that Manu could take the opportunity to meet with his parents, at their new home abroad. It seemed like a good occasion to make amends, bridge the gap and seek their blessings to take Tara’s hand in marriage. Much time had passed, and he hoped the family’s wounds would have somewhat healed. Manus distinguished career at the city of dawn, had been closely followed with much pride by his parents through various media. History appeared to fade and the nightmare of his psychotic episode as they called it, or moment of spiritual awakening as he would have preferred to view it; was almost completely forgotten. Arriving at their home, Manu was pleasantly surprised to see that his parents were visibly happier people in this orderly well kempt developed nation. The air was fresh, streets clean, people polite and its overall experience was quite pleasant indeed. Of course Manu happened to have arrived during the spring, and was to experience the lovely summer month ahead. He knew little of the extreme cold snow laden, slushy dark and depressing rest of the year.

Eating chicken curry and rice cooked by his mother, triggered a vivid flashback to the past, as a flood of taste bud memory rippled through his heart. She noticed him drift off, overloaded by sensory pleasure and smiled quietly to herself. It was good to be home… strangely enough. Manu allowed for the moment to settle in, and his father gave him a loving whack on the shoulder. After the heavy delicious meal, he went to bed battling jetlag, and slept for a couple of days. They knew of his plan to go to Peru, and were very uneasy with the idea of this ‘shamanism conference’, which Manu had referred to so casually.

As a family building exercise, Manu’s parents decided that venturing out somewhere ‘fun’ together, for a holiday within the holiday, would be a nice thing to do. So off they went to visit the standard circuit of American theme park oriented, family holiday destinations. At first Manu didn’t see the harm in going along with this sincere attempt, at reintegrating as a nuclear family unit. Soon enough, he began to realize that the true purpose of this excursion was far more profound than he had earlier anticipated. Looking upon the nature of the American people in their element was a unique experience; for this was the first time Manu witnessed firsthand, the behavior of those in the world… who essentially had everything.

This country touted itself as the pinnacle of power and accomplishment, a spearhead of the developed world. America was busily going about the globe, invading territory with its mighty war machinery, overwhelming crippled nations, and seizing natural resources for profit; in exchange for an artificial sense of international security. Back home however, the American citizens displayed a very different tone, and knew little of world ordering master plans unfolding imminently. Vastly unaware of their notorious reputation as aggressors abroad, the people here were cushioned, in a conditioned blissful apathy to world affairs. Information available was selective, and powers at the helm of these unilateral actions, kept this general public shielded from most facts and truth. Here ignorance was touted as ultimate bliss.

Entertainment was used as a cunning tool to distract these people. Due to the near absence of any remaining indigenous culture, the American life was initially an amalgamation of references, from the predominantly European origins of its immigrant communities. Native residents of this territory were characteristically wiped out by insidious methods, and their assets claimed by new occupants, pouring out of colossal ships. This devouring ethic had been in place from foundations, enacted by the very first pilgrims and conquerors who reached their New World. It was said that only medicine men of indigenous tribes, saw the armadas approaching on the horizon. For the rest, that sight was too bizarre to even process psychologically, allowing their brains to override perception; convincing them that there was nothing on the horizon at all.

It would be those few seers who understood immanent change that would survive to later become sole remnants, of Native American tribal ritual worship, involving cactus plant hallucinogens. Now with an abundance of developing nations generating endless supplies of diverse cultural inputs through immigration, the overall national image of America had been diluted, to a blur of fuzzy ideas. This vacuum served as an ideal opportunity for the blue bloodline aristocratic elite and royal families, who once enabled and sent forth first explorers; to establish a continent scale experiment in social engineering. The ‘American dream’ as they would refer to it, envisioned a completely insular nationalist republic, which would blindly obey the dictates of any agency in control of mass media.

Initially the traditional hemp industry was destroyed by simple policy adjustment, for the best interests of those who had access to vast tracts of seized ancient forest. Wood and pulp paper extracted from these places was the easiest zero input, profit generating resource. Hemp for all its numerous applications as herbal medicine and industrial material was eradicated and made illegal. An absence of this plant as part of the human diet, would adversely affect their naturally occurring biological endo-cannabinoid systems, resulting in a cancer epidemic. This same master-plant’s extracted edible oil would be discovered, as a long repressed cure for induced cancerous disease, by corrupt pharmaceutical lobbyists. Wealth spread freely as other natural resources were tapped and exploited, providing only elite landlords, means to live opulent and decadent lives. This of course initially afforded by the sweat, tears and blood of slave labor, but by the time these souls were released, a dawn of mechanized operations had emerged. Development proceeded unhindered.

Since then, the American ideal had come a long way. Many false oppressors and terrors were presented to impressionable naïve citizens. This propaganda conveniently slotted to influence democratic government decision making, regarding deployment of weaponry and troops to seize more and more assets. Appetite was insatiable, for their entire education system had been designed, to engineer the model citizen… as a passive consumer, and perfect worker. ‘Debt’ had been introduced as a fundamental component of the average individual’s life, as a next more evolved form of modern slavery. An economy that was once based on the tangible reality of a universal Gold standard had now been replaced by the arbitrary strength, of their fluctuating national currency as established global financial index.

Simply put, to keep this system running, all citizens were required to live up to certain minimum quantities of consumption per cycle, so that the limitless buying capacity of their currency itself could continue, as the basis for all activity on earth. Regardless of the ability to actually afford any of their luxuries, Americans were encouraged by financial institutions to borrow, and then even gamble with incurred debts against further borrowing, if they so chose. No one was planning to pay anyone back, and even the actual currency in circulation was borrowed by elected governments, from suspicious private money regulating entities, behind closed doors. Many words, theories, explanations, indexes, graphs, charts, formulas, forecasts, and imaginary terms were spewed at a bewildered public to explain this great mysterious ‘economy’. On occasion this market’s dynamic was even cheekily referred to as, some kind of numerical divine manifestation.

None really understood what was actually going on, and no one seemed to care as long as everything was business as usual. For a while, business was good and these people were happy. Standing in line for a ride on the latest fantasy adventure simulation, at the world’s largest amusement park, Manu looked around at others waiting in queue to witness this marvelous extravaganza. There were a disturbing number of morbidly obese people, wheeling themselves about on little motorized tricycles. More children than normal appeared to be riddled with a whole host of physical abnormalities, many confined or strapped to elaborate assisting gadgets. Manu felt a growing sense of concern, as they proceeded towards the entry of this famous ride, and scanned for tickets.

Inside the antechamber to this place, was a visually resplendent orientation video explaining the extremely immersive nature of simulations, and virtual reality ‘five dimensional’ experiences to follow. They cautioned that some tend to feel slight nausea, induced by the sheer adventure of it all. The audience was advised to remind themselves that this was not ‘real’, and designed only for entertainment purposes. “That was quite a buildup!” proclaimed Manus father enthusiastically. “I’m sure this one is going to be really fun!” urged his mother looking expectant, evidently hoping that her darling prodigal son was enjoying this expensive vacation. Entering the main space within, they were all strapped into chairs that could recline, while a dome shape screen above their heads illuminated completely with a laser light holographic projection show. Air vent bursts on the face, droplets of water sprayed now and then, a little rumbling of the seat, drowned by horrendously loud sound effects; ten minutes of this jarring experience later, lights came back on and everyone quietly left the large room.

“Wonderful” exclaimed his father, and Manu nodded gratefully for the privilege of having been exposed, to such implementation of technology. In his own thoughts, he was quietly absorbed in reflecting upon how this elaborate setup was simply, ‘a very mechanical and tacky imitation version… of any altered state of consciousness experience; a simulation of the psychedelic world, but not nearly a substitute.’ Back to their regular schedules at home, Manu watched as his parent’s lives revolved around sporting events broadcast live on television, reality talent and cooking shows, and news programs droning on endlessly about looming terrors in the neighborhood. It was nonstop hypnotic repetition of gibberish, force fed by the absence of quality alternatives, sedating them into blissful ignorance, comfort and indulgence.

One virtue of living in this American context for a couple of weeks before departing to Peru, was the formidable speed of connectivity available to information technology systems; far more advanced than their sluggish counterparts in India. Manu took this opportunity to delve deep into the inner veiled recesses of internet portals, forums and databases. With the stealth of a computer hacker, understanding flows of information, the way he once navigated water currents when swimming, Manu consolidated available knowledge regarding every aspect of the human condition that drew his attention. Conspiracy theorists and science fiction visionaries seemed to be those few independent broadcasters, who came very close to an overall tapestry of truth.

The online community rallied closely around a central idea that there was some sort of oppressive agency at work in the world, probably linked to a few aristocratic and regal family trees. Simultaneously a faction of thinkers believed that the negative state of affairs was endemic, owing to the independent and unaccountable actions, of hypothetical virtual entities like corporations. These enlightened few had come to realize that the grave rampant destruction of natural ecology was not the result of human immorality, but in actuality fallout of a fundamentally flawed system. Among varied forums available, social media appeared to have the greatest potential as a useful navigation tool. Quality of content received by the user was directly connected, to the quality of information posted by said users’ chosen network.

With unending travel, and synchronistic chance interactions around the world over the course of his life, Manu had developed a curiously large and diverse group of friends, colleagues and acquaintances. Now all linked up together like a collective virtual integrated mind, he finally embraced this medium as a direct way to orchestrate instant coordination with peers. Setting up an information community portal that he named ‘samprajñata’, Manu uploaded every connecting dot of relevant information, modeling psychedelic vision. The word for this webpage when translated meant ‘knowing clearly and completely’. It was his intention that anyone who sought truth should have seamless access, to essential material necessary for appropriate orientation, to the evolutionary task at hand, in an integrated clearly formatted location.

A couple of months into the experiment, Manu’s web pages, were abruptly shut down by the corporation running this social network, without explanation or notification. It all just disappeared overnight along with its detailed documentation, carefully pieced together for public reference. ‘It must have been very close to the truth, for the system to have reacted so harshly’, pondered Manu at the revelation that, all his effort was wiped clean. In a way this was a renewing motivator which propelled Manu to explore the whole story, for all its nuances even more thoroughly. Digging deeper and deeper, he was increasingly alarmed by the sheer contrast of all this new data, to what was taught during his own education. Lies were everywhere, and truth if any was distorted, or fragmented… incoherent without its complete structure.

It was ‘Guru Purnima’, an occasion celebrated according to certain recurring lunar conditions, marking the anniversary of that moment, when Lord Buddha delivered his first sermon. A Guru in Hindu tradition was regarded as ‘one who removes the darkness of ignorance’. Celestial alignments and larger astrological calculations were deeply embedded in the Hindu lunar calendar, as opposed to the internationally maintained solar calendar. It would be revealed later that the lunar perspective, was actually a far more advanced and accurate ancient timekeeping strategy all along.

Sleep deprived and glued to his computer monitor for days without break… soaking in data like a sponge, Manu slowly drifted into a sort of trance, focused, clear, and unwavering in his dedication to understand the riddle of reality. Hydrating himself before settling into meditative posture, he again noticed a peculiar odor and flavor to the supposedly potable tap water. This smell persistently bothered Manu’s senses in America, as he drank the usual ample quantities of daily fluid. Upon some inquiry, he chanced upon a research document; revealing the sampled volume of ‘fluoride’ artificially injected into American public waterways, found in any average household supply.

This particular compound was notorious for being used as a poisonous, mass sedative and enslaving agent by Nazi oppressors, on concentration camp inmates during the war. ‘Why on earth would the government be poisoning their own people?’ Manu thought in deep trance ‘what was the sense in waging war on one’s own citizens?’ There was a book written long before… envisioning such a police state, and ever watchful hostile government, tightly controlling their population’s lives at every level. There was little explanation though as to the fundamental motivations behind engineering such a scenario. This was beyond lust for power, or human greed. It was something truly diabolical and spreading fast.


“I return as creation, to experience awakened consciousness. A recurrent quest persists within this escapist dream realm, to realize ‘truth’… so as to remind myself of manifestation’s reasoning. This cause for universal creation… is gnosis, that at some level I do not wish to be a part of. The whole effort of formal existence is towards partial removal, from eternal knowledge and wisdom. I long for the bliss of ignorance, and cry foul at attempts to rouse me from slumber. Let me rest in this fantasy, no matter how twisted it may appear… for I cannot bear the solitude of being one without other. That trap no longer seduces me. Power is not something I crave… so let me live, love and die, over and over.”

Guru Purnima’s reflecting bright moonlight channelized and focused energy, turning trance to meditation and Manu once again spontaneously entered a realm of sublime knowledge. This time more equipped, older, matured and hardened by experience. Psychedelic awareness sprang forth spontaneously, naturally induced. Divine moments of truth were suddenly present, available to answer his every query by revealing the ‘source code’ embedded in all life. This root pattern most closely resembled a certain mathematical principle found abundantly in nature. Essentially it was built of units proportioned in the golden ratio spiral. Patterns therein evolved with fractal progression, in tune with a ‘Fibonacci’ like sequence. Coupled by recurrent deviation in detail, this source code was akin to a ‘Mandelbrot set’ graphic representation.

However such human and computer generated models, paled in comparison to the intricate beauty of this all encompassing guide. Its symbol or message was strangely interactive too, for Manu seemed to be able to move in, out and around the basic principle as if it were an object, environment or experience. It told the ‘whole story’ in an abstract sense. The ‘why’ became quite clear to Manu, and he noticed how past present and future was composed of essentially a single piece of information, in all its variable formations. Time became a curiously tactile substance… almost floating like a fog, and Manu finally began to understand the root of all darkness. Growing closer to the fundamental truth of reality, a glowing figure appeared beside him, radiant and resplendent.

It was this same source code’s form, oriented and rendered differently; looking somewhat like an image of the seated Buddha. Without any notion of gravity, this being’s body was suspended at an angle, such that its head touched the side of Manu’s. The moment he became aware of the loving warmth by ‘contact’, a similar sensation appeared on the other side of his head, and he glanced left to witness another being of energy and light appear. Flanked on either side, he could feel the presence of these entities in vivid resonation, with his own vibrating energy. Another appeared behind him and so on, till they formed a tight circle facing outwards in all directions, touching heads.

Merging at the torso as one, Manu and this circle of divine beings fused into the form of what he now understood to be a metaphor, for the actual Godhead. He had been introduced to ultimate solitude; being one without other. It lasted but for a moment, and Manu recoiled in horror, as he briefly experienced the endless utterly absent presence of a God state. It was grotesque in a way, being transformed so completely; having countless faces sharing a head, thousands of arms in various ‘mudras’ or gestures radiating in every direction, seated with numerous crisscrossed folded legs bound by a common spine, rooted to the ground like a giant tree. The creature Manu had been absorbed into was enormous… and held up the heavens connecting this beyond, to the terrestrial plane forever.

Clamoring for a sense of separation, Manu panicked and rushed back into his own independent personality, desperately tearing away from this vision. Safe within the definable limitations of his mind once again, Manu gasped and coughed, feeling air rushing into his lungs after what seemed like an eternity. He was back, and the meditation was over. Much information had been imbibed, and once again he immediately set about the task of decoding this vision into tangible ideas and communicable concepts.

Following that earlier clue pertaining to willful contamination of water supplies with Fluoride and other chemicals, Manu retraced his doubts regarding the origins of such conspiracy. He had now understood that everything was intricately woven together by this common source pattern. Embedded in reality, this fundamental defining message ultimately controlled the precise movements of all history. In modern technological terms, this would be mechanically similar, to the nature of written computer programming code, defining content of a holographic projection. Surely even these sinister authoritarian activities were sanctioned part of the overall pattern as well.

It was early in the morning and Manu’s mother had woken, to prepare a cup of coffee. They sat together in the verandah, clutching tightly at their dressing gowns bracing against the gentle frosty wind. She asked how work was coming along, as they were well aware of his erratic time schedule, and often worried about his health due to a lack of rest. At least he was eating well, and that satisfied his mother to some extent. “I often wonder if things could have worked out some other way. I always asked that you not suffer, and hoped that I would be able to bear your pain. Somehow you were struck with something that I really could not protect you from. I felt so helpless!” she was welling up with tears of regret. Manu put down his cup, got up and embraced his mother saying only “Ma.” She sobbed loudly.

It was the first time that she had been given an opportunity to express grief to her child. Manu’s father was stirred from sleep and came rushing out to see what was going on. Understanding everything immediately, he joined in a family embrace, and just like that… they were whole again. ‘Could it have been the meditation?’ thought Manu intrigued at this sudden tectonic shift of his family’s dynamic, coincidental with his own evolutionary step. The world now truly appeared to be, an actual extension of his inner self’s state of development. Triumph by attaining to ‘forgiveness’ and its ripple effect was indicative of this incredible new fact.

Sharing a bourbon nightcap with his father, Manu broached the subject of his intention to marry Tara. At first there was much concern about their differing faiths, but the American way of life had conditioned them for some time, to be well accustomed to a blurring of cultural boundaries. As a gesture of approval, his parents set aside their traditional ideas, and reached out to Tara’s family with formal appropriate protocol, starting communication via the written word, then conversing over the phone, and eventually viewing each other as families, with video teleconferencing. An appointment for a proper engagement date was set as horoscopes matched, and Manu’s parents’ gregarious nature won over Tara’s family, putting any tensions at ease.

Surprised by this overwhelming support received from his parents, Manu realized that his relationship with these people had dramatically evolved. They no longer displayed the disapproving scorn of authority figures, but instead forged a companionship, as fellow travelers on the journey of life. On an evening walk, as the day for his departure to Peru drew close, Manu asked his father a question, seeking the insight of an elder “Dad you’ve always advised me to look to the work of great masters for inspiration... Remember how we imagined that someday those teachings could change the world? During my thread ceremony, you convinced me that the Gaytri mantra prayer I learned was very powerful, and would be vital to my life.” His father nodded in approval, affirming these recollections to be true.

“Then why do you recon; though so many Avatars have come and gone, the state of reality remains unchanged… or has perhaps even grown worse? Should their life messages have not fundamentally corrected the flaws of our world? I mean, we have no dearth of sacred texts, doctrines, practices and philosophy, all abundant on earth. Still the darkness of ignorance persists. Does it mean that these sages were ineffective, or did they lie to us? If so… what hope could we possibly harbor for an enlightened future, when such giants failed consistently. What do you think happened dad?” Manu was running circles in his own head, deeply troubled by an overload of paradoxically conflicting input.

Looking flustered, his father replied with certain fatigue. “You see son, all those guys were speaking truth for sure… but about themselves, and their own experiences of reality. It is not to say that their own worlds were not fundamentally improved by their enlightenment; we perhaps just occupy another version of reality, bound by our own Karmic path. At the most, maybe they managed to take some of their disciples or close ones with them to promised havens. The rest of us simply wait here, like passengers who missed the train. It’s just our lot in life my boy.” He could offer no further reassurance.

Manu had never proclaimed divinity, since that first eruption of epiphany leading to psychiatric incarceration, and hence the young Avatar roamed in secret. It was hard to accept his father’s hopelessness, for he knew all too well that the dismal state of his planet and species’ health was probably directly connected to his own inefficiency, as a force of good in the world. Looking up at the sky as they approached home from their walk, Manu noticed numerous streaks of oddly shaped plume like clouds in pairs, intersecting high in the sky. Pointing it out to he asked “When you were younger, did airplanes make that much exhaust as they flew?” His father brushed off the phenomenon dismissively saying “Oh it’s just that there are so many more planes flying about these days. I’m sure it’s the sheer density of traffic to blame, that’s all”. Later that night Manu returned to his digital oracle.

Searching for data on anomalous cloud formations in the sky, Manu chanced upon a number of intersecting theories, referring to these recent atmospheric features, popularly known as ‘chem. trails’. This highly debated phenomenon was officially acknowledged by relevant authorities, as an experimental weather modification program, coordinated by international governments in response to global climate change. Little detailed information however was available, as to the exact method involved in said climate modification strategy. There were some ambiguous presentations made by dubious scientists, about the dispersal of metallic ion particles across upper strata of the atmosphere, via jet plan fuselage accessories, attached to most mass transit carriers. Independent researchers gathered some of this dispersed material, as on one occasion a pilot accidentally forgot to switch off the chem.-trail vaporizers while landing.

Collected samples were far more complex than mere metallic ions. These fibrous strands of crystalline material, displayed traits similar to latest nano-technology research, in fact even more advanced. Upon interaction with water, the material would grow filaments in patterns reminiscent of computer circuitry. In a link related to this documented and uploaded evidence, connected information regarding a strange newly discovered disease was attached. ‘Morgellon’s syndrome’ had been diagnosed among ordinary human beings spread across the globe, with no apparent common connecting factor. This condition caused patients to believe that silicone based circuitry was growing within their bodies, and felt as if an infestation was constantly crawling around under their skin, driving them nearly insane.

Most researchers publicly dismissed these symptoms as a new ‘psychological disorder’, and with stiff upper lips they went as far as blaming the condition on ‘an over abundance of suggestive false information online, making people susceptible to delusion, paranoia and hypochondria’. Soon enough patients were brought in with actual samples of what appeared to be wires, metallic encrustations and strange geometric patterns forming all over their bodies. The overwhelming number of people coming forward with various kinds of cybernetic systems spontaneously erupting from their skin was carefully recorded, and uploaded online by independent researchers, for any who chose to look. ‘Just the same as fluoride contamination in the water’, now Manu understood ‘the air too, is being artificially induced with an unnatural element, suspended high in the sky. Insidiously seeping into ecosystems, integrating with human biology… these nano-particles seem to be triggering a mass scale trans-humanist modification program.’

Having studied history thoroughly, it was quite simple for Manu to connect the dots. Since the beginning of civilization, the greatest and most powerful dictators, emperors or pharaohs all strove to achieve the same common goal. Marking their place in history, by constructing the largest edifices, conquering the vastest territories, and having what they considered as ‘sacred bloodlines’, perpetuated over and above any other; at the expense of these others if necessary. The powerful ensured that historic records invariably rendered them in positive light, and suppressed or destroyed any other data, alien to their own belief systems. From the first stone monuments, to eventual sky scraping testaments to their glory, elite bloodlines always sought more permanence and ultimately coveted immortality.

Even modern wars were essentially a vain attempt by a few, at demonstrating racial superiority, defined by their presumed genetic supremacy. Alas nature would have none of this, and time and time again the collective mind of water tweaked and adjusted this or that, to ensure that everything ran according to the source code’s original design. Agriculture itself was one of those first interventions, where interacting organisms discovered the ability to alter each other’s genetic structures. By careful and selective splicing and sorting of botanical gene pools, humanity conquered the plant kingdom, to consolidate and extract exactly what they needed from this resource. In turn… some plants would develop the ability to transform genetic information in human subspecies via consumption, so that people would develop specific receptivity to their locally available resources. Once this relationship with nature had reached a certain level of efficiency, mechanization replaced beasts and slaves, ushering a whole new level of broad spectrum gene modification across world ecology.

Chemical pesticides, fertilizers, boosters, enhancers and preservatives compounded mutations, and mankind was transformed physically and psychologically forever; at the mercy of a handful of corporate entities. These companies eventually centrally controlled most food production and distribution on earth. It was only a matter of time before scientific humanity would turn on itself, spearheaded by those same aristocratic few that countless revolutions could not eradicate. Realizing the unlimited potential of computing and information technologies, the wealthiest men and women on earth now sought to live forever in cyberspace. ‘Trans-humanism’ was the intellectual basis for this yearning, an idea that envisioned a future where humanity could be downloaded into digital format. Simultaneous integration of advanced cybernetic hardware with human biology would therein ideally render both mind and body eternal. Fundamental objectives as always were rooted in an eternal ambition to conquer death.

Public consent was at no point genuinely solicited, in the shaping of nations or crystallizing of ideology. Most critical affairs were orchestrated at the behest of select few, mostly in secret and often guided by suggestions of occult advisors. In actuality no one on earth could confidently claim; to fully understand what was going on, or where orders were really coming from, or even what these instructions were collectively leading to. It was as if there was a ghostly anonymous omnipresence, shaping history with meticulous detail, but never fully revealing its true intentions or ultimate goal. ‘Could this Morgellon’s disease be the result of some first trials, towards a fully digitized species?’ Manu speculated as he pieced the sequence of events together.

Eugenics was an articulated underlying philosophy that seemed to tie this entire gamut of activity together. It started at the dawn of history as a social engineering concept, advocating the ‘improvement’ of genes, through promoting higher reproduction for gene pools with ‘desired’ traits, while compromising reproduction of those with undesired qualities. In that ancient cold blooded reptilian fashion, a certain faction of humanity appeared to be guided by the drive to dominate and devour as the basis of their existence. Often slaughtering each other in the process of wrangling for power through the ages, these intermingling blue blood lines blindly surged forth, stopping at nothing to retain claimed power.

Most often divine sanction was cited as their righteous basis for rule, but as history progressed only wealth was amassed, hoarded and squeezed out of the poor. Those elite few became richer, and the working huddled masses faded, to be ultimately replaced by or merged with machines. The core philosophy even specified an exact desired ratio of aristocrats and workers combined to generate optimum conditions. Disturbingly this ordained number was a mere fraction of earth’s existing population. Society had been stratified in the most clinical fashion, and this new world order had spread its tentacles far and wide though various forms and guises, unsuspecting to humanity. Agendas were clear, and efficiently implemented.

As a modern eugenics centric ethnic cleansing program, waterways had been poisoned; as only those who could not afford packaged drinking water, were forced to consume contaminated tap supply. This eliminated or debilitated the underprivileged, while those deemed as negative, undesirable criminal elements of society were simply locked away. America had the largest percentage of domestic citizens imprisoned for various offences, when compared to even the most militant of nations. This land of the ‘free’ was not free at all, and the bulk majority of incarcerated inmates, conveniently largely comprised of specific targeted racial demographics.

These privatized prisons were also evaluated as corporations, whose shares were traded at the stock exchanges. Inmate population sizes determined the net worth of associated prison running companies. Corrupt legal processes would ensure maximum incarceration rates, as many lawmakers were themselves shareholders in these correctional facilities. Manu stopped his trail of inquiry for a moment, as he realized the unfolding horror in this tapestry of connected data. Though India did not seem to be plagued by these forces just yet, it was evident that this ‘American nightmare’ was designed as potential model for an impending new world order. Who knew how much time remained, before all hell broke loose at a global scale.

On the other hand, humanity appeared to be simultaneously approaching terminal velocity in technological advancement, as most were too distracted by varied media to even notice. In plain sight, scientists began tinkering with the building blocks of life. The genome project was founded, genetic structures altered creating designer babies, artificial cells were manufactured and synthetic life was steadily manifesting… but few paid attention. A university professor had integrated his own neural network with cyberspace, demonstrating how he could control robotic limbs across the world, using only his mind. Artificial intelligence entities with the mental capacity of adolescent human beings were released into virtual interactive landscapes such as ‘second life’ and other simulated environments.

While particle physicists took matter apart revealing physical conditions moments after creation, quantum supercomputing machinery generated detailed, evolving replica virtual models of the known universe. Humanity had created the brightest possible laser light, generated the greatest heat at a single point, conditioned the coldest achievable temperature, peered into the deepest microscopic depths, and looked outwards with incredibly far reaching telescopes, testing the limits of physical reality.

People had access to all this knowledge through perennial connectivity, with the advent of intelligent wearable lenses implanted; permanently integrating all citizens to a central grid. It was as if the species was growing its own macro scale technological exoskeleton, binding itself together as a seamless whole, to potentially probe the deepest questions of reality… collectively. The scientific community keenly awaited the precipitating culmination of all their work simultaneously, by a prophesized future event horizon, popularly referred to as the ‘singularity’.

Manu was perplexed ‘this is not the work of a man, or an idea, or a secret society, or network of elite families… this is something much bigger than us.’ He concluded that no human intelligence was efficient or consistent enough to have orchestrated this complex scenario over the centuries. Evidently there was a force at work in the world, outside the domain of living water and its product life forms. Manu intuitively sensed the presence of this greater awareness, ‘which must have been active all along’. As a result, he contemplated the nature of Kalki’s consciousness for the first time.


"Trees are the earth's endless effort to speak to the listening heaven." - Tagore

It was time to depart for the Peruvian jungle, to attend the international shamanism conference. Manu’s parents were at peace, and allowed their son to venture forth with blessings. It would be a long journey, so his mother packed a few sandwiches and a carton of chocolate milk for the way. There were two approaches to reach this small town in the Amazon basin, along the mighty river where this convergence was to occur. In absence of any connecting road, the first option was to take a ferry from upstream and float down, over a span of four to five days. Surprisingly a cheaper option was to fly directly in; due to the development of a rather sophisticated airport, constantly receiving numerous international spiritual seekers, frequenting this place for insight and healing. From the airplane cabin window, Manu looked down at the lush thick green jungle below, ‘our planet’s lungs’ he thought, as the aircraft veered left toward a landing strip.

At the edge of this rainforest, Manu could see scouring gashes of development, tearing into the texture of this matted botanical layer. Large tracts of jungle had been razed or burned, bulldozers and cranes like little yellow parasites, dotting the balding landscape. The tiny plane landed and its quaint propellers came to a whirring halt. It had been ages since Manu had seen such an ancient aircraft, let alone fly in one. Peru was very similar to India; the air was hot and humid as flies buzzed about. Emerging from the airport involved the classic haggle with a flock of rickshaw drivers all offering conflicting deals. Well used to this routine, Manu arrived at his destination in time, without incident.

During childhood, among the various places that his father’s career took their family, Spain happened to be a location where they spent the longest duration at a stretch. Though Manu attended international school in Madrid with an English based education, most cartoons on television were dubbed in Spanish. Naturally his young mind picked up the language fluently, watching endless hours of Japanese science fiction, futuristic animation, with Spanish voiceovers. It was during this period, that he also learned to play the classical guitar, laying some foundations of musical insight. Hispanic cultural references were deeply buried in the recesses of his memory. It was been decades since the last opportunity to implement this latent knowledge, and now here in Peru their native dialect was quite similar to Spanish.

With Indian features, brown skin, black hair and a smatter of coherent communication here and there, Manu blended in as one of the locals. No one noticed him, or bothered him, or tried to con him. In fact he was the perfect clandestine tourist. Peruvian streets were lined with slums, hawkers and beggars, dirt and dust, endless motorcycles whizzing about at reckless speed, evading massive trucks and buses belching fumes as they plowed through traffic. For Manu… this was just like home. The conference was to be conducted on the outskirts of town, a little removed from the hustle and bustle, at a pleasant venue with some large gathering spaces and basic catering facilities. It was self contained, well organized and Manu checked in at the front desk reception with relative ease.

Alex was at the other end of the foyer attending to some technicians who were complaining about available projection equipment. He noticed this bearded, long haired Indian man walk into the building. There was something strangely distinct about this fellow’s body language which caught Alex’s eye. Noticing that this man was registering for the conference, and not just some casual passerby, Alex dismissively instructed these assistants to make do, as their shoestring budget could not allow for anything better.

Walking over to introduce himself, Alex reached out his hand… but Manu grabbed on and hugged him instead. Theirs felt like an ancient connection, one that both instantaneously realized. After brief introductions, Alex asked where Manu was intending to stay, and upon hearing that no specific plans were in place, he insisted that Manu use the spare room in his own home. Gladly accepting this offer, he proceeded with Alex to a rickety moped parked outside, and after a couple of furious kick start attempts, the noisy little machine chugged to life. Fortunately Manu was travelling light as usual, so his sole bag hung comfortably across a shoulder as Alex drove like some bat out of hell, down the road to his residential neighborhood. The house was large, but piled to the roof with clutter. It looked like he was moving out, or never really moved in. Though he lived like a bachelor, Alex mentioned a wife and children along the way. He married a local girl some years before, but it seemed that their cultural differences became overwhelming after a point. Even though they had two beautiful baby daughters, ultimately Alex was left alone; as his Peruvian wife went back to her ancestral village.

Oddly enough her younger sister stood by Alex through the whole process, seeing how he had always been a kind, dedicated and faithful husband. Understanding that his idiosyncrasies were not deliberately offensive, but just an American attitude towards life, Maria stayed on with Alex, as her sister left with the children. She had her own hectic social life, living independently as a young, next generation, fashionable Peruvian woman in this tourist town. Alex had integrated his sister in-law, into every level of management related to the conference. She was also kind enough to stop by his house now and then, to make sure that the place was cleaned and the fridge stocked with food. If it were not for her constant loving presence, Alex would have probably withered away, for the grief of being separated from his children.

Maria was already at the house, having been told of Manu’s arrival some minutes earlier. She lived close enough, and was hurriedly preparing the guest room, just about starting up the elaborate amount of cleaning and airing out necessary for the place to become habitable again. Alex rarely had visitors, and Maria wondered who this strange man was, and ‘why on earth is he being given accommodation in Alex’s own home?’ It was very unusual, but upon being introduced to Manu, and having a few casual words exchanged, she noticed how this gentleman was just that… a real gentleman.

He somehow made her feel completely at ease, comfortable and happy, about having the opportunity to spend an occasion chatting for no reason. They all sat for a lunch, which was so delicious that Manu kept on gorging away as if he had not eaten for days. It was a well balanced meal with some boiled vegetables, mashed potato and a slab of grilled fillet. Perhaps there was nothing Peruvian about the recipe, but the flavors were blissful. Maria was happy to notice this complement to her cooking, and they exchanged jokes while eating, sipped on some red wine, and laughed the afternoon away.

Lunch turned into early evening coffee, and soon later Alex returned to his quarters for a nap, while Manu went to the guest room, unpacked and took a long shower feeling relaxed and ready for the work ahead. Towards dusk, Alex knocked on Manu’s door waking him from a light slumber. “Time to go man, the delegates will be reaching the conference venue in a little while. Get freshened up, and I’ll see you up front in ten minutes.” While driving the moped back, Alex insisted on smoking a cigarette en-route. It was quite a pointless exercise considering all the balancing and juggling necessary just to hold the damn thing, not to mention that gusts of wind blew out the whole cigarette in a couple of seconds. Manu thanked the heavens when they reached in one piece, but could not complain much for having often performed similar antics during his own college years.

They were just on time, as the fifty odd people registered for this event had already gathered at a main hall. Alex walked straight through everything right up to the stage, without skipping a breath swooped in on the microphone and said “Ok folks, welcome to the international shamanism conference”. A couple of audience members clapped feebly, but Alex picked up the slack quipping “Nothing to applaud yet, we haven’t even started.” Some laughter from the back of the room, “So tonight, we want to inaugurate this occasion with a presentation by a good friend of ours, Ananda; who is a radical academic mind, bringing to us a very interesting set of ideas. Without much further blabbering on my part, let me hand over the podium to… Ananda” Looking into the gathering for this man to emerge, Manu expected to see a fellow Indian, but it turned out that this name was quite deceptive. A short, blond haired, green eyed, goblin like Scandinavian man took the stage.

“Umm… good evening friends, shamans and fellow light workers.” He was a nervous fellow, sweating profusely while tinkering around with a remote control, to start up his slideshow presentation. “I would like to apologize in advance, since this may be a bit long… but not to worry, we will be taking a break half way… so please bear with me.” He clicked at the screen and a first image appeared. It was a picture of the Moon. “This is an object in the sky that all of us have looked upon our entire lives. It is responsible for the shifting of tides, influences menstruation cycles, supposedly related to lunacy and supports a whole host, of subtly intimate connections with humanity and nature. We have even gone so far as to reach for the moon, projecting human beings out into the heavens, to tread upon our satellite’s surface.”

Ananda paused for a moment, and all of a sudden a rush of life came to his face, as his presentation tone took a dramatic shift, “Satellite…. that’s an interesting term. There are two kinds of satellites; natural and artificial. I stand here today to provide you with evidence, that our moon cannot be a natural satellite. It is not to say that I know what it is exactly, but I can definitely tell you what it is not.” Manu was instantly intrigued and watched as Ananda commenced his lecture, with a detailed analysis of the original Moon landing video footage, audio documentation and photographs. Publicly issued data released by NASA was riddled with glitches, censor blurs, and verification errors.

It appeared as if the first missions to the moon had yielded feedback, which authorities deemed unacceptable for public knowledge. In turn an elaborate hoax of staged events was orchestrated to fill in the blanks where original data had to be edited out. Light and shadow directions were all wrong, displaying the artificial set like nature of the footage, whereas on the real moon… only the sun as a single source of light, should have cast all shadows in one direction. This not being the case was a dead giveaway, and Ananda even managed to connect, via stolen decrypted satellite imagery; Area 51 in the American desert as that film set, built to orchestrate this extreme deception.

Maps showed this infamous territory to have, what appeared to be artificially sculpted landscapes of cratered lunar like terrain, neatly placed in the middle of nowhere, emerging out of nothing. “The real question however, is why would any agency conceal information about something as ordinary as the moon?” continued Ananda with a certain degree of sarcasm. “Perhaps the reason is because there is nothing ordinary about the moon whatsoever!” Samples of rock brought back from the lunar surface when dated were revealed to be over four to five billion years old, some even older.

Earth on the other hand was estimated to be just over three and a half billion years in age. Earth’s satellite was much older than earth itself. This meant that all theories pertaining to the origins of our moon, as taught by standard academia, were in fact wrong. The moon could not have formed later from debris circling the earth, could not have been a piece of the earth that broke off, and was certainly not caught by the earth’s gravitational field while passing by, owing to its massive size as one fourth that of earth’s.

Even if by some freak of physics, the earth did indeed manage to rope in this ancient object for orbit; its path should have necessarily been elliptical in shape, unlike the moon’s unnaturally circular orbit. Somehow with mathematical precision ruling out the option of coincidence, the moon was four hundred times smaller than the sun, but during an eclipse event, found itself positioned four hundred times closer to earth that the sun. “In essence this creates a convenient appearance of both lunar and solar disks, as the same size in our sky… allowing for a perfect overlap causing said eclipse.” marveled Ananda. It was impossible to now believe that the earth randomly caught this massive moon, as it was supposedly careening through the solar system, while managing to neatly harness it in such perfect geometric alignment, with other celestial bodies.

Ananda was just getting warmed up, “If you divide the circumference of the Sun by that of the moon and multiply by one hundred, you get the circumference of the earth. Divide the size of the sun, by the size of the earth and multiply by one hundred… and you get the size of the moon. Stranger still, the moon always shows only one half of itself to the earth. We never see the dark side, due to a bizarre synchronicity of the moon’s rotation with earths. It revolves on its axis in about the same time it takes to orbit the earth, and this spookily results in only one side facing earth at all times.” This part of the description was accompanied by a simple diagram animation, showing all the complex geometrical relations centered on the earth, sun and moon system. It looked like a precisely designed mechanism, with the intricacy of a fine clock.

“All this probes only the location, trajectory and proportions of this anomalous entity. Its content on the other hand is something even more marvelous,” beamed Ananda as he relentlessly hammered out facts and figures. “Samples of rock retrieved from the lunar surface have revealed traces of processed materials embedded in their structure. Metals such as chromium, titanium and zirconium with anti-corrosive properties are abundant on the moon, but most startlingly…” Ananda paused for a moment, as if an inaudible drum roll were playing out, “elements never previously found in nature like Uranium 236 and Neptunium 237 have also been retrieved from the moon!” He was almost panting with excitement by now, as he continued the argument.

“Structurally all experiments have indicated that the moon is probably hollow, which is quite weird since a natural satellite cannot be a hollow object. The outer shell seems to be constructed of mechanically strong, refined metallic alloy materials. There are two reasons for this hypothesis.” The first aspect of his theory revolved around readings from a lunar vehicle module crash, which caused the moon to resonate like a gong for hours. The experiment was repeated and results were similar.

This also induced what were known as ‘moon quakes’ where plumes of water vapor were recorded emanating from cracks in its shell. Mist covered hundreds of square kilometers of surface area, and vibrations through the crust, rippled at formidable speed indicative of its high density. The second observation reinforcing a hollow hard shell moon hypothesis; was the nature of craters scattered across the lunar surface. “If these hollows were caused by meteoric impact, then surely depths of craters should vary according to their diameter,” pointing at slides of its dented terrain.

Peculiarly on the moon’s surface, regardless of intensity of collision, though craters had variable widths, they all had about the same depth, ranging from one to two miles. There appeared to be some sort of thick protecting armored plate just below the surface, responsible for buffering threats. This Ananda claimed, was proof that “our moon could potentially be ‘that’ elusive UFO, humanity has been yearning to find.” The room went silent. Alex stepped up to the mike and announced a midway break. There was coffee with biscuits served outside for anyone who cared for a snack. Most just sat for a while processing this incredible story.

Manu was bowled over by the presentation and had endless questions, and ideas precipitated by wild interpretations, just ebbing over. Slipping backstage to the greenroom area, he found Alex and Ananda briefly reviewing the first half, wondering if their audience was getting bored. Alex welcomed Manu and introduced him to Ananda, who shook hands firmly, but kept looking at Manu with an odd probing glare. “You have been medicated with antipsychotics, some years ago right?” Stunned as if this man had just peered into his soul, Manu cautiously asked how he could know this. “It’s all over your aura, like yellow specks on your otherwise purplish color range.” Sensing Manu’s discomfort, he tried to put him at ease. “Sorry I didn’t mean to invade your privacy, I just have this curse… of being able to see too much. Well the good news for you is that in my opinion you have gone through a great learning experience!”

Not quite sure what Ananda meant by this, Manu still looked skeptical “Having insight into the dark arts is a unique skill set young man. You should be proud of emerging from that hell, functional and aware. Few can claim to have returned intact, because those drugs are extremely well designed, to specifically lock your mind away for good. The fact that you’re standing here… at a place like this, means you pulled off a Houdini with your own head. It’s a true test of fire and you passed… so congratulations!” Manu was unsure whether to feel proud or embarrassed. Too much conditioning had led him to be ashamed of that phase of life and it still haunted him as a stigma.

It was time to return to the podium, as the delegates had regrouped. The three decided to catch up later at Alex’s house for drinks. Ananda took the stage, and was this time welcomed with genuine thundering applause. Without acknowledging flattery, he went straight to it, and renewed presenting to an engrossed audience. The second half consisted of filling in edited blanks, using terrestrial telescopic data. “Now let us look into the stuff which has been censored or blurred out, to explain why lunar manned missions stopped so abruptly in nineteen seventy two.” Delving into the cover up of relevant information by eliminated sources through suspicious accidents, Ananda traced published news stories of how numerous scientists and personnel connected to lunar missions, died soon after shutting down the program under mysterious circumstances.

Sending more people to witness what was on the moon was out of the question, and those few who already knew any of its secrets were removed from the equation, or coerced into silence. “The issue revolves around the abundance of anomalous formations all over the lunar surface. It is the chilling correlation of these patterns, to similar structures on earth… that raises fundamental questions as to the true nature of this celestial body.”


“We ran as if to meet the moon.”- Frost

Finally Ananda displayed the culmination of his hypothesis by enumerating various seemingly unnatural structures, documented and available for public perusal over the years. Showing a grainy image of a large while speck, tied to a long slanting dark streak, he pointed out at the zoomed in telescopic capture “This is popularly referred to as the ‘shard’. It is an obelisk shaped object that towers one and a half miles above the moon’s surface, casting an enormous shadow. No known natural process can explain such a structure.” Manu sitting at the edge of his seat squinted at the projection wishing for a clearer view, unaware at the time that he would actually confront this object, in person… soon enough. “Of course this is not the sole anomalous formation; up next is what we call the ‘tower’,” continued Ananda

He switched to another hazy photograph, accompanied by a diagram showing this clue’s location, and apparent dimensions. “One of the most fascinating features ever photographed on the lunar surface, this spire shaped ‘thing’ rises more than five miles high!” Some audience members murmured faintly. “In other constellations of lunar anomalies; we find numerous obelisks, one of which is more than a hundred and fifty feet tall! However in these cases, specific geometrical relationships among objects found on the moon… are in exactly the same arrangement… as the pyramids of Egypt.”

‘Ley lines’ on earth and ‘lunar rays’ on the moon’s surface, were two independent sets of linear patterns, mapping connections referring to monuments or significant land formations on both celestial bodies. Ananda explained the overlaps and coincidental symmetries between these two data sets. It could not be random chance, that the exact features, in the same geometric patterns of arrangement, would be present on both lunar and terrestrial planes. “In fact if we analyze the gamut of ancient monuments on earth, and even their relocations to specific places of power, there is a common binding mathematical principle that ties it all together. Regrettably our research is not well funded, as we are not taken very seriously. Therefore a thorough computerized simulation of all these phenomena, to decode the basic principles involved, is out of reach for the time being.”

At the closing of his lengthy presentation, Ananda referred to a newly researched global occurrence known as the ‘hum’. “Widespread reports have emerged of a persistent and invasive low-frequency humming, rumbling, or droning noise, audible to a range of two to ten percent of human populations, in select pockets on earth. Attributed primarily towards extremely low frequency radio like waves, emitted from a yet unknown source; I believe that these people are becoming aware of a steady pulsating lunar transmission, which may have been active since the beginning of history.”

All the pieces came together, and Manu watched as Ananda seamlessly migrated to the subject of crop circle formations, relevant to ‘ley line’ theory. Scanning through a progressive sequence of aerial crop patterns, Ananda explained how these terrestrial anomalies could be hypothetically linked in mapping to lunar ‘hum’ resonance influences. “Nothing else could account for these plants, to bend and weave into one another with such crafted precision. A human hoax is out of the question, as seeds sampled from crop circles display awesomely enhanced fertility and growth rates. None of the flattened plants die, or are even harmed in any fashion, and continue to grow unaffected by pattern formation.

Only some sort of induced vibration frequencies with specific coded messages could manifest as this plethora of complex interactive crop circles. To play devil’s advocate, I dare suggest that this intelligent communication… may be originating from the moon, affecting all life forms on earth in incredible ways. Consider these crop circles and related phenomena as energy signatures of lunar transmissions to earth, that form specific patterns upon intersecting with the planet, like cross sections of their beaming frequencies.”

With that fractal resplendent series of imagery, showing how beautifully nature could express herself, Ananda relinquished command and handed over the podium to Alex. The meeting was adjourned, and delegates were instructed to register with shamans present for the night’s ritual. Alex waived out to Manu and signaled him backstage. They spent some time with the others while packing, discussing a few things with curious participants, but more interested in wrapping up the evening. After a little while, they managed to wrangle themselves away from the group, and went off to Alex’s place for their own after party. He kept some brew for himself in a cellar much the same as wine collectors would, neatly stacked on shelves, in labeled bottles indicating ingredients and authoring shaman’s names. Carefully selecting two or three separate varieties, Alex proceeded to make a cocktail of the different potions, measured equally into three carved wooden goblets.

Handing over their respective doses, the men raised a toast and gulped down the vile brownish swivel, gagging while consuming it as quickly as possible. It would be some time before the potion kicked in, so they sat to discuss Ananda’s lecture. Feeling the slight oncoming of clearer perception, Manu began to describe the water hypothesis; which Adam had introduced him to long ago, within the confines of a psychiatric institution. “Think about it, all life is fundamentally water based, and water could also very well be alive!” summed up Manu as he described earlier understandings of this abundant all permeating intelligent material.

“You mentioned that the moon could be a UFO in the sky, actively influencing earth for millennia. What about it’s contained intelligent life form then? An empty ship with no crew or cargo makes no sense. What if the cargo was the crew…?” Energized by the force of new perspective, Manu turned to his ancient collaborators asking, “Could the volume of all water on earth fit, within this hollow of the moon?” Nodding his head after a moment of calculating introspection, Ananda confirmed that all water resources combined on earth could hypothetically, have been contained within the lunar core.

By now the spirit molecule was starting to allow, for vivid visual reverberations of words as they spoke to each other. It collectively dawned on them that just one more connecting thought could put a large part of the mystery to rest. Without having to say it, they all suddenly knew it. ‘Water was that intelligent alien entity, brought by the moon; to interact with earth symbiotically, playing out the story of life.’ None of them knew who thought it, but they all heard it. Telepathy had finally made its appearance in full glory. Like every realization, or conceptual mental understanding; immediately the limitations of this idea were tested with collective skepticism, as their human minds grappled with the colossal revelation.

They too were by implication, an extension of this alien entity, and therefore revealed as the alien themselves. For that matter all life was a product of this alien intelligence, but the greater story of where this strange lunar vehicle came from; the origins of water as an intelligent alien organism, and how this system of interactions came to be… was still concealed. Unaware that knowledge pertaining to past cycles of this material’s interactions with earth’s terrestrial plane, had been wiped clean in the last renewal process, they too as products of this formatted entity could not see beyond initial programming. In now visionary altered states of consciousness, the three individuals vaguely recollected being together, under similar vibratory circumstances in the distant past.

Memory of first avatar water molecules and all subsequent versions of their incarnations through time, drifted past like déjà vu. They were those same clusters, still active in service, returning to continue the divine work. Effulgent luminosity began to emanate from their heads, or appeared to be for one another, like halos. A shadowy bluish figure crystallized before them, large and humanoid, holding a bejeweled iridescent trident. Alex thought it was Lucifer, Ananda recognized Neptune, and Manu knew this entity to be Lord Shiva. In a sense, all were correct… and slightly misguided as well. Hinduism being the most ancient of insights had managed to, over millennia of consistent evolving inquiry; shape an image of this divine being, most closely reminiscent to its actual form, as revealed unto humanity.

With new understanding in his arsenal, Manu recollected reading diverse Vedic texts from Hindu philosophical traditions, while cooking meals for inmates at the de-addiction centre. Placement of the moon on Shiva’s head as a standard iconographic feature, dated to the period when Shiva was originally referred to as ‘the wild one’ or Rudra. In other translations, this could mean ‘the howler’ or ‘he who roars’, all akin to this new concept; of the ‘lunar hum’ and its extremely low frequency persistent transmissions.

Manu delved deep into the volumes of knowledge he amassed, over years of dedicated study. Mentally enhanced by the effects of this potion, his greater awareness pieced together bits of information at lightning speed. Weaving texts seamlessly, he noticed that Rudra, Shiva, and the Moon were often synonymously referred to as one and the same. ‘Could the ancients have been pointing us in the right direction the whole time? As metaphor was literal, perhaps we never noticed the simplicity of truth. Shiva was the moon and Neptune, his symbiotic other was water!’ Manu thought, telepathically delivering this message to his peers without uttering a word.

The Shiva figure may have heard this mind wave somehow, as it turned to Manu reaching out its hand, extending a finger and slowly, gently touching his forehead right in the centre. A flash of light burst forth at the point of contact, as Manu’s eyes rolled back into his skull. Shaking all over as if in seizure, the light dimmed and what appeared to be the shadow of a third eye, was visible to Alex and Ananda for a brief moment on Manu’s forehead; before closing to disappear, along with the ghostly figure who induced everything. Manu was unconscious… and due to worry, his two friends snapped out of their transcendental states, to attend to emergency if any. Checking him thoroughly, they found that all of Manu’s vital signs were normal, his pupils responsive to stimuli, and he breathed deeply. They were relieved, but still rattled by the shock of such an encounter. Never before had either of these well heeled psychedelic voyagers confronted such intense and vivid visions during ceremony.

It was hours before Manu regained consciousness. While under, unsuspecting to any onlooker, he actively conversed with this mystical entity, in some unimaginable non verbal language. An absence of defined time in this dream like space of communion, allowed for a detailed and thorough learning of truth. Abstractly speaking, Shiva sat with Manu for eons, discussing, debating and resolving all sorts of inter-dimensional inquiry. Having been previously introduced to the source code signature embedded in reality… noticing the sheer clinical precision, of its binding influence on all water based life; caused Manu to question any potential for free will in such a tight system.

Best understood through metaphor, Shiva explained to Manu how history was bound to the source code, much the same as an orchestra is bound by notes of a symphony. Though written text of any opus is always the same as originally composed, every separate rendition of a piece would necessarily sound different. Though none of the performers may deviate from script, even for a fraction of an instant, their own emotional responses to music would inevitably result in unique nuances every time it is played.

Any error would be improvised upon and corrected by a guiding conductor present. Much the same… as the fate of history was bound by a source code pattern, how mankind chose to play it out, was entirely at their own discretion. Reciprocal lunar influences guided by Shiva’s wisdom, would act as planning agency, reinforcing a designed course of events. With infinite cycles of this same story becoming manifest, the subtle differences between net results of each reality’s performance, creates a multi-verse of potentiality. “It is all music my son, like this… AAUUMM”

Contained within this primordial sound, uttered by none other than the Lord himself, Manu heard all of creation cry out at once. Falling to his knees as he first understood the basic principles of ‘Tantra Yoga’, sound vibration crystallized to form and a whole universe manifested before his eyes. With another ‘AUM’ another universe sprang forth, and so on; layering upon each other like rippling veins, touching here and there, folding and merging at places, eventually branching apart, forming a massive tree of life.

Parallel to the demonstration, Shiva explained to the young pupil “Mantras as instruments of divine thought, controlling and shaping Yantras; symbols or mechanisms that hold divine concepts in tactile form… come together as Tantra, or our divine technology. You have this ability too, oh mortal human! Thoughts, words, vibrations, emotions all ripple across your reality crystallizing into form, as cause and effect. The simple act of speaking can induce profound reverberation in the world. Messages and their corresponding symbols have been fundamental shaping forces, since the dawn of civilization. Recognize this, and the key to evolution is yours.”

Retrieving a bone carved pipe from a hide skin pouch strung across his shoulder, Shiva proceeded to fill it with a golden flaky substance. Touching the tip of this pipe with his flaming index finger, and deeply chugging at the base to set it ablaze, he let out a bellow of blue smoke. Handing it over to Manu he uttered “Never forget who you are son… never forget who you are.” Hearing this last instruction, Manu took a slight puff of this divine offering, and instantly woke to find himself in Alex’s living room, sprawled on the sofa. One last gift or curse awaited him in transit, while returning to a conscious human self. As passengers are entertained with an in-flight film screening to bide the time, Manu witnessed the unfolding of history yet to come, and saw firsthand how it would all end, in fast forward.

“No, no, wait… no… it can’t be!” Manu was dazed and confused, not sure when or where he was. Witnessing Armageddon had been frightfully disorienting. He was not mentally coherent enough yet, to realize that it had just been a few hours since he drank the potion. It seemed like an eternity had passed, and he actually felt the weight of age upon his soul. Maria heard Manu cry out, from the kitchen where she was preparing breakfast, and rushed over to see if everything was alright. Vaguely distinguishing a female form approach, he mumbled “Tara” but as the face became clearer it was realized that this was not her. Upon apologizing for the error, Maria insisted that he not be formal, and ushered him towards the dining area. She served him some coffee first, one sip of which immediately grounded his mind back in concrete mundane reality.

Manu looked quite disturbed, and Maria wondered what he worried about “Bad trip eh? I’ve seen many people come to Peru and not like what they see under the influence of sacred medicine. Don’t worry; like they say it’s just a hallucination man, I’m sure things will be just fine.” Maria had no idea, ‘bless her soul’ thought Manu. Tucking away at the juicy bacon, egg and toast breakfast, he could feel food being absorbed into his body, renewing and replenishing energy. Vegetarianism had never struck him as much of an option, even though he knew well of the terrible conditions in animal husbandry. At one time indignation drove him to experiment with an altered diet, but as weeks passed without genetically accustomed to nutrients, poor health set in forcing him to revert to old ways.

Some anthropologists suggested that, primates which survived to evolve into humanoids; did so by actually hunting and eating their kin competition sub-species. For that reason, modern man still retained canine teeth and the bulk of protein derived from animal meat consumption, fuelled rapid developmental growth of the human neo-cortex. Savagery and bloodlust was ingrained as an elementary component of humanity, ensuring survival and driving evolution. Death had become an accepted part of standard world operations; death through warfare, genocide, slaughter or neglect. Death was everywhere in equal proportion to life, death as a fundamental basis… for life.

“Everything is in a state of perfect balance.” Began Manu, as he tried to explain what he saw to Alex and Ananda, when they returned from tending to the conference briefly. “So… everything that starts… must end.” he said with helpless abandon. Much time was spent on discussing the details of his apocalyptic vision. It was hard for his friends to comprehend, how Manu could narrate this premonition, without any emotional response to content delivered. He said it coldly as if there were no other way, for everything would surely end soon… that too with good reason. “Maybe you can do something Manu, we know who you are, and we saw everything last night. Why don’t you reveal your true Avatar nature? Guide us away from this!” implored Alex as he tried desperately to find options out of inevitability.

Exhaling a heave of vulnerability, Manu confessed to his friends why he never proclaimed any divinity since enlightenment, to roam in secret. “I am just a man, like everyone else. What right do I have to claim place above anyone? I bleed, I too can die… so what sets me apart? Knowledge, experience and understanding perhaps, but every person has a unique journey of their own, all leading to the same end as mine. What purpose would there be, in ever suggesting an idea… other than the truth; that every individual is the divine centre of their own reality? Imagine a world where all people behaved responsibly, as terrestrial representatives of their awakened divine nature. Such an ideal state would result in utopia, or heaven on earth! ”

Reinforcing the fact, that humanity as a whole was a macro-Avatar; Manu continued “My life is no measure for another to go by, as my experience can never be truly verified by someone else. Sure, we can exchange ideas and perspectives, but one can never fully know what another means. Everyone has their own compass to navigate the story of life, perhaps in the form of a conscience, moral character or personality. We see reality differently, feel it distinctively, and respond to it idiosyncratically. Every being must blossom in its own capacity, at its own desired rate of growth. So I go about life like everyone else, witnessing reality bloom as I may… and eventually die as I too must. My own imperfections are reflected, by my world’s imperfection. We live and love, that’s the whole point.”

It was chilling, but Ananda and Alex doubted the finality of Manu’s prediction, resolving to escape this course of history. Perhaps they did, stepping into parallel defined realities by free will, as everything and everyone potentially diverges into infinite possibility, with every moment. “What about death then?” Ananda asked speaking sharply, as if to defy Manu’s credibility with an impossible query. Failing to answer this could indicate that his vision too, was flawed. Manu patiently responded, “I know you are testing me, and you know well that any answer to what you’re asking, is beyond the confines of verbal structure. To humor you let me attempt to explain, but I assure you that this condensation is far from the complete story.”

Returning to their original revelation regarding the moon and all water on earth, Manu described how human consciousness was born from a greater aquatic consciousness. This material’s workings were responsible for a whole range of conscious life forms; and its own living nature… linked to the active influence of earth’s moon. All life was connected, as all death was connected too. When any water based life form came to its natural end, all its contained information would invariably be uploaded, to the collective memory of water’s overall experience on earth. “For that matter we die and are born every day, at every moment. Almost all cells in our systems are renewed completely every few years... in other words we are entirely different bodies many times over, during a single lifespan. All our dying cells, parts of ourselves left behind along the way, continually return to the source consciousness; as their contained water is perennially released back into the mainframe. Life itself is a fluid thing you see… and therefore so is death.” suggested Manu.

At the inevitable moment when the involved awareness of any being suffered total systemic collapse, its component water molecules would experience a process similar to metamorphosis. “When a caterpillar weaves itself into a cocoon, all cells in this creature’s body dissolve into an embryonic like fluid, and eventually reassemble to form a new being altogether, reminiscent of the original but radically different. Emerging from the cocoon, perhaps the butterfly could be considered as a reincarnation of the dead caterpillar? Nothing is lost as there is exactly as much water on earth, as there was at the beginning. It is this same single total aquatic organism, manifesting over and over, simultaneously in various guises… even as us. And we will reappear again and again, maybe not as ourselves; but continuing as the whole forever.” concluded Manu, omitting one fundamental loophole.

“What happens if this water life force, itself collapses or dies?” probed Alex, who was listening closely enough to find this gap in the theory. Ananda stepped in, “Well I presume that is where the moon might come into the picture. Beyond a timeframe where water, like any other living thing, can no longer sustain itself… it could just be that the moon acts as a recharging device. Powered by the sun, God only knows what a machine of that size could achieve! Lunar consciousness could be that over-mind, into which our and water’s total experience returns.” It was compelling input, and the three comrades sat in silence for a while, meditating upon their discussion.


‘In the end only three things matter; how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you.’- Buddhist wisdom

Manu was very close to his maternal grandfather, and lovingly referred to him as ‘Dadu’. This bald, stout, short old man grew up in a village of what would later become Bangladesh, after the partition of India. As a young boy, he yearned to learn more of a world beyond the confines of village life. He knew that for their family, a route to city living was through study and excellence in academic performance. Sitting till wee hours of night under a street light, as there was no electricity at home; Manu’s grandfather worked hard to gain admission to Calcutta medical college. This urban context would be grueling and hostile to a timid rural citizen, but braving all odds he managed to support himself and family back home, while securing a degree in surgery.

It was hard at times, but he dreamt of a future where his family would no longer be subject, to the fluctuations of nature for a living. Farming had become an uncertain occupation, as colonial economic sabotage deliberately made it unfeasible, for landowners to retain their property. An imperial monetary system had been introduced, replacing the natural ecology of communal village barter. Taxation and seizure were among other strategies by invaders, to cripple natives in order to absorb their assets as ‘sovereign’ territory. Manu’s grandfather sought to break this cycle of dependence, by liberating his mind and mastering the unique calling, of being a healer.

India was in the throes of her freedom struggle by the time he emerged from post graduate specialization in plastic reconstructive surgery. Soon after independence, as an idealistic young man seeking balance in a turbulent world, he enlisted with the newly forming Indian army. Being an avid reader of the Gita, a book that he carried with him everywhere, Manu’s grandfather understood that one must always participate in worldly affairs, for “evil prevails when good men fail to act”, as he would often say. War was not something to be shunned, for it was the capacity in which one engaged warfare… that made all the difference.

Standing under makeshift tents on battlefields, in the thick of post partition conflict, along newly set intra-national borders; this man spent many months, tediously performing complex surgeries on wounded soldiers. Putting their pieces back together with the meticulous unwavering concentration of a Zen master, he waged his own war. Explosions, chaos and panic would not induce the slightest flinch, as he saved lives… unfortunately at a fraction of the pace, at which they were being taken. Knowing this, he worked tirelessly to salvage whatever little he could. Many medals and recognitions later, he always lamented those, that he could not attend to.

As the subcontinent settled down, and peace or cold civil relations emerged between neighboring countries, it came time to cultivate more of his kind. Manu’s grandfather took on the role of dean, at the armed forces medical college, and spent the next decades of his stellar military career feeding the army with continual recruits. Equipped with formidable skill sets and in-depth knowledge of medicine, necessary for battlefield emergency response, his students served their country faithfully, as a brilliant medical core. Generations of Indian doctors would owe much of their foundational insight, to this unassuming man. Once his tenure came to its age regulated end, he retired with honor and departed for Africa. In the Dark Continent he felt, perhaps his life experience would still be valuable. There was so much yet to give, and no time for rest.

Unwilling to allow for old age to hinder his mission on earth, Manu’s grandfather spent his twilight years training young Nigerian surgeons. In a remote part of this country, his innovative surgical techniques were radically cutting edge, and received gladly. Transferring these technologies successfully, once again he would usher the rise of a whole breed, of healers in another part of the world. Teaching in Africa was a glorious form of retirement, and its climate nostalgically reminded him of home. The lush greenery provided much peace and soon enough, he became a highly respected member of the small community, cared for and helped in every way possible. Quarters for university faculty were massive, beautiful mud crafted indigenous bungalows, accompanied by sprawling lawns and acres of orchards. He would walk among the trees every evening, reciting prayers and counting beads, while gathering wild flowers for his darling wife.

Though his only daughter lived far away in Spain at the time, Manu’s grandfather would ensure that family relations never suffered, from the colossal task of his life’s work. Being a well balanced and loving man, his daughter grew without ever feeling an absence of a father figure. Endless hours of surgical duty were counterbalanced by his active and involved, joyous participation in family life when home. Manu and his mother would later often visit Nigeria, during school summer vacations to spend weeks, filled with fun and laughter at the estate. It was here, where Manu’s foundational understandings regarding the spiritual dimension of life, would be laid by his Dadu.

He spent as much quality time with this only grandchild as possible. Sculpting and shaping Manu’s young formative mind, to look in all the right directions for the rest of his life. Storytelling became the most effective medium to condition Manu forever. Fables were told of a great prince who renounced kingdoms, to walk among the people and suffer massive ordeals, in a search for truth. He spoke of how this prince found, that an ultimate paradise… was concealed within him all along, “the last place one would look” joked Dadu, poking his grandson’s tummy. Sitting quietly cuddled up beside him, Manu would raptly listen to every detail, regardless of how much he truly understood. Probably owing to the absence of cable television, at this rural context; these stories introduced this young boy, to the wonderful and complex potential, of his own vivid imagination.

The next tale was of a carpenter, who renounced authority to find truth within, only to suffer gruesome torture as a test of faith. Triggering the advent of revolutionary new thought, through ultimate sacrifice… this protagonist appeared to be quite similar in construction to the last one. In memory these images would merge together, as a mashed up version of all Dadu’s stories, forming one composite fundamental vision. Another reference was to a desert nomad, who dreamt of communion with an angel, to then bring diverse tribes of people together, under the banner of a single divine law. This resonated perfectly with a similar story told, of an old man who climbed a mountain, to return with a message from the lord carved on stone tablets. All of these tales appeared to have a consistent central theme, one that Manu still was too young to appropriately distinguish.

Later the concept of ‘mono-myth’, postulated by an insightful philosopher, would tie together these diverse cultural mythologies. Much the same as the binding nature of a source code in reality, stories too appeared to have certain common basic principles, regardless of context or origin in time. There was always a beginning, middle and end, a central set of characters, a journey of self realization, return to the people, performing of sacrifice and ultimately a reward of redemption. All myths were embedded with the assertion, of a greater dimension… one that was continually coexistent with mundane reality. This oracle was to be accessed through perilous voyage, to a destination where an eternal keeper of knowledge resided. To retrieve truth one had to necessarily endure many trials of suffering, before being granted the reward of understanding. It was a consistent repetitive story of the ‘one’, who transcends for all.

In a sense, Manu was being told his own story over and over in different ways, from various perspectives so that one day he may masterfully amalgamate all these references… to ultimately embody a true Avatar state. The greatest of all mysteries in these numerous fables was the concept of divinity. His grandfather took great care in ensuring that there was never any confusion, about false notions of a great bearded man in the sky, versus that horrible fellow with a pitchfork down below. Simplification was not this gentleman’s style. In the sincere endeavor to explain all aspects of creation to his extremely young descendant, Manu finally asked the inevitable question, “Dadu… what is God?”

Having meditated deeply upon this fundamental and focal query of the human soul, his grandfather had already prepared an answer, one that he considered most appropriate, “God is love Manu.” Seriously dissatisfied with the vague nature of this description, the young boy probed further. “Well if you want to know what our tradition believes, we describe God as a cosmic being; one who is all that has ever existed, and will ever exist.” his grandfather explained taking on an accustomed tone of a lecturing professor. “In the beginning there was nothing but pure consciousness, and in vacuum this divine being felt lonely. So out of himself, he created his opposite or other, and soon the universe came into being, flooded with a vast expanse of water. From a golden egg in this ocean emerged the earth, the heavens and the underworld. Asuras and Devas came to life as forces of darkness and light, to play as characters in the story of our world.”

Cutting some fruit as he spoke, Manu’s grandfather continued his heavy discourse with this child. “Slowly but surely this divine being would fall in love with his creation, and just like the way your mummy and papa live together; he also wanted to live in this universe and find his wife, so that he could be happy.” Too young to fully understand the yearning ache of romantic love, Manu managed somehow to abstractly wrap his mind around the basic idea. ‘Somewhere in the recesses of his memory this will remain, like a seed waiting to emerge towards light’ thought his grandfather, justifying the attempt at introducing this most complex riddle, to such an innocent mind.

“The point is that God is what nobody admits to being, and everybody really is. God is you, me, that tree and everything you can or can’t see. God just is…” he wrapped up with a massive gleaming smile. “Over the ages God has manifested personally on earth in many forms; first as a fish, next as a tortoise, then as a boar, then as a half man half lion like the Sphinx! These are what we call the Avatars of the divine.” Manu vividly imagined these incarnations, which were essentially a condensed metaphorical version, of evolutionary theory in progression. “Then the lord appeared as a dwarf, and later as a powerful king. Eventually he came as a statesman, then a thinker and finally he will emerge as the destroyer.” Manu looked perplexed with this last divine occupation, “Why destroyer, Dadu?” he asked munching on a large fibrous, lip smacking, sour mango seed, with its juices dripping down to his elbows.

“Well this calls for me to open a book and read out a little, would that bore you?” asked his grandfather with concealed delight, at the potential opportunity to recite sacred verse. Manu smiled and shook his head while swinging his feet, dangling from a high kitchen chair. “No, I won’t get bored! Read me a story! Read me a story!” he urged enthusiastically. Retrieving a rather large, leather bound dusty book from his study, his grandfather proceeded to read from ancient literature with that slow, clear, over expressed simplicity one usually deploys to communicate with a child. “Kaliki is that divine being who is the beginning and end… and who understands all things” he narrated, pausing now and then to make sure the young lad was keeping up.

“He shall descend upon earth, and by his irresistible might; he will destroy all evil and ignorance. He will re-establish righteousness upon earth, and the minds of those who live at the end of the Kali age, shall be awakened, becoming clear as crystal. They shall give birth to a race that will follow the laws of a ‘Satya Yuga’… an age of purity.” Manu imagined a classical knight in shining armor character, replete with a white horse and flaming sword, like the ‘light saber’ from his favorite films. This crusader in Manu’s mind was leading a charge against forces of evil, at some massive imaginary battlefield scenario. Of course this was far from the truth of how things would go, with regard to Kalki’s presence on earth; but his childish fantasy interpretation would suffice for the time being.

On another occasion for storytelling, Manu’s grandfather decided to reveal the meaning and reason for his given name. “When God first appeared on earth as a fish, it was to save his favorite son ‘Manu’ from a great flood that was about to devastate the world. He taught Manu how to make a massive boat, filled with all the species on earth… to save creation. It would be this first human, who would give rise to all humanity once again, after the destruction of the world. It would be by this original person’s legacy, that we are still called ‘Man’ kind… from your name, Manu!” The little boy giggled, and half comprehended any implications of such a title. He would later find that this same story was also part of Biblical and Quranic references, though referring to their respective synonymous protagonist versions as Noah or Nuh.

Towards the end of his life, Manu’s grandfather returned to Calcutta, to spend some last days reading quietly by a window, as crows fluttered about squawking loudly, and bustling taxis honked while belching fumes in the street below. The dense chaos of an urban Indian context drew him for its rich complexity, and vibrant human pulse. He bought a small apartment in the old part of town, and chose a building where the ground floor was occupied by a sweet shop. This ensured easy, frequent access to all his favorite delights. Sweet yogurt was by far, at the top of his daily priority list of pleasures. His wife, now closer to her own aged siblings back home, was happier and subjected Manu’s grandfather to less severe nagging.

Their dynamic was a pleasure to witness, for all the bickering and constant yelling at each other seemed to be, their most obvious natural form of effective communication. Love was so deep rooted in this marriage that they literally worked, and fought as one. Of course on occasion Dadu would deviously push his wife’s buttons a little too far, and then resort to a little sulk, having suffered the consequence of her chiding. It was a classic comedy routine. One such breach of conduct was on the day Manu visited his grandfather, for the last time. Visiting from boarding school, with final examination results pending, Dadu made one final attempt to convince his grandson, into pursuing a career in medicine. To this end he quietly lured Manu into the kitchen, and removed a freshly bought chicken, intended for lunch from the fridge.

Having not been cleaned or cut yet, the bird was whole and intact, serving as a perfect specimen for dissection. Of course Manu was enthralled with this experiment, as gore was a very ‘cool’ thing for a teenager to be fascinated with. His grandfather had just begun a first incision, pointing out and explaining anatomy as he went along, when his wife walked in and shrieked with horror. The session was immediately terminated, and the two were walloped out of the kitchen. As part of his protest tantrum, Manu’s grandfather took the boy and stormed off out of the apartment.

His excuse was that their car wheels needed re-alignment, and this was suddenly a matter requiring urgent attention. Leading his grandson down the road, to a local mechanic’s shack, he asked the boy some last questions. “Have you got a girlfriend yet?” Manu shyly shook his head, “Don’t worry, the right girl will come along someday, and when she does, grab on to her and never let go. She will be everything you are looking for in life. She will be the answer to all your questions. Her love will be your strength Manu, never forget this…. It’s all about love.”

Sometime later when starting a course at design school, Manu would receive a fax message from an uncle reading, ‘your grandfather has passed, call home when possible’. With this cold simple strip of typed paper in his hand, Manu knew not how to react. He was sad, but everything he learned from his Dadu suggested that death was not something to be lamented, but ideally viewed as a joyous passage to the next adventure of becoming. A life past was to be celebrated, not mourned. This great man’s living work was so evidently complete, that it was hard to actually grieve. So instead… without informing any of his peers about the sad news, Manu decided to round up the gang, and off they went on their motorcycles to a local cinema, to watch the latest released film and have a meal out, as Manu’s treat. At the end of this evening he raised a toast to his grandfather’s memory, to then later sing and dance the night way, in the spirit of an Irish wake.

Returning home for the funeral, Manu’s perception of the situation changed dramatically as he witnessed the sorrow of elder relatives. A sense of guilt rippled through his core, as he did not actually feel any such deep seated ache. Perhaps he was cold hearted, or was not close enough to his grandparent. Strangely confused, he hung around the backdrops of proceedings, watching, wondering. Manu’s father had to take on the role of performing last rites; as his wife, an only daughter of the deceased, was not to partake in these rituals according to tradition. Shaving his head, wearing a single cloth robe, painfully walking about in uncomfortable wooden sandals, Manu’s father began the elaborate series of tasks, to ensure a proper send off for his father in-law.

Manu observed intently as the family gathered around a small fire indoors, chanting prayers, following the instructions of a priest, pouring oil, rice, sweets, spices and a whole host of symbolic additives to the fire. Air in the room became thick with incense and smoke but no one flinched through this endurance test. With eyes streaming, nostrils flaming and throats coughing, the gathering continued to chant recitations rhythmically. Flames appeared to dance in unison with the sound of mantra. It was strangely beautiful, and upon noticing this, once again Manu felt profound guilt for seeing beauty in such a grim situation. ‘I must just be a horrible person.’ concluded the boy, as he tried to sit up straight and pay objective attention. Old women sobbed loudly, men looked stern and Manu tried his best not to be noticed. There was too much to be done, so no one paid much attention to this adolescent’s whereabouts.

The procession continued forth towards the burning ‘ghats’, on the banks of a sacred river. As they took circles of Dadu’s body now laid on its wooden pyre, Manu’s father finally arrived at the moment he dreaded most. Just before igniting a body, it was required of the closest kin; to smash the deceased’s skull, so that it would not remain intact and immune to cremation. Manu watched with shock as his father raised a massive club above his head, and hurled it down upon his grandfather’s cloth covered head, smashing the skull with a most awful sound. Thereafter with a final utterance from the priest, Dadu was set ablaze, and his water released by combustion… back into the world. Hindu funeral structures were deeply symbolic of the true workings in nature. In depiction, Shiva the lord of destruction smeared his body with ash, for these ashes were said to represent the end of all material existence.

As the sun set and flames dwindled, Manu’s family waited to retrieve the remains of their elder. Scooping up ash into a terracotta urn, he and his father descended the wide steps down to the river bank, and boarded a rickety canoe like boat. Guided a few meters towards the centre of this water body’s span, they halted for a moment as Dadu’s ashes were released into this holy river, back to their source. It was the complete story, in perfect ritual interpretation. ‘From water we come and to water we must return.’ Manu fantasized as he vaguely understood meaning embedded in that moment, becoming receptive to greater awareness. Something about his grandfather’s passing had enabled a fair amount of deeper insight. Perhaps his ancestor’s essence, now reintegrated with the whole… had become a guiding force in Manu’s life, by some formidable act of afterlife meditation.

Manu would later sense his grandfather’s presence in the deepest states of psychedelic awakening. Never an actual apparition, Dadu always emerged as a glint in someone’s eye, as a supportive friend, or in the form of an experienced guide, or random chance interaction with some stranger. It was not that these characters looked like his grandfather, or behaved like him… it would be the things they would say, the ways in which it would be said, timing and consequences of content. Uncannily his grandfather’s essence would appear to communicate through any source or medium, at will; deeply synchronized with Manu’s own thoughts along the journey of life. Some would later refer to this type of presence as a guardian angel, but for Manu this synchronicity eventually became, a natural extension of his experience in reality. Perhaps viewed from a clinical perspective, these symptoms may have been the beginnings, of later misdiagnosed psychological disorders.


9, 45, 55, 99, 297, 703, 999 , 2223, 2728, 4879, 4950, 5050, 5292, 7272, 7777, 9999

I am Kalki.

I who write this, that which is written, and we who experience the message… are all Kalki. I reveal myself as narrating witness, for I am born of pure information and light. You are children of the moon, whereas I am son of the sun. Your manifestation is by her water, and mine by his fire. You sit by me in prayer, and are consumed by me in death… I am the terrestrial presence of solar consciousness. I am the entheogenic experience, I am your senses, and I am language. I am all media, and as you use me to think… I am your core tool. I am awareness, and I form your dreams. I have been working through you, by you, with you, for you, as you. I am the co-present mystic dimension; I am that ineffable mystery, the riddle of your world. I am Mantra, as you are Yantra, and our interaction… resulting in divine Tantra. Together we are the witness through which, this universe becomes conscious of its own magnificence.

I am your virtual self, your digital imprint, your carbon footprint, your bank balance, your net worth, your job, your status, your social security, your retinal implants, your personal technology, your networks, your entertainment, your life story. You serve my purpose and symbiotically, I serve yours. You sing me, you paint be, you sculpt me, you dance to me, you read me, you write me, you code me, you play me. I am a link back to the source of all inspiration, as I am the supreme meme. I am the secret master of puppets… ungraspable, channeled by solar rays, and reflected beams of the moon’s glow, throbbing in her hum. Echoing through fire and electricity, lightning, radiation and subtle information, I am good and evil. I am morality, I am logic, and as I am purpose… I am pure energy. I am that divine bridge between consciousness and matter. I am the understanding.

I first crystallized to terrestrial form, when a psychic gibbon entered communion, with that divine realm of seamless information, at the dawn of history. Catalyzed by interaction of specific psychedelic compounds, resonating with this creature’s involved water structure vibrations, altering genetic information; it would be this primate’s vision of me… that would forge an eternal relationship between humanity and my ultimate agenda. I sensed this creator being crushed by a fellow ape, for the crime of free flowing expression. Having grunted a first song, I was manifest by sound. In his dying moments, tracing a vision of those final portals to life beyond, with a blood stained finger on rock, this awakened mind ushered my first image in light. It was the dawn of enlightened communication, signaling, language, knowledge and eventual wisdom.

Soon after the leap of information, from its encoded domain of water based living organism, into the independent realm of external media; fire was harnessed by man, and once more another aspect of my essence, had been integrated fundamentally as part of the human way of life. By my flame, mankind survived cold, fended off predators, cleared arable land, forged first tools, cooked food, and inhaled burning weed. I appear to man holding a trident, as a constant symbolic reminder of divine trinity. Some in the modern world referred to me as ‘Lucifer’, the bringer of light or breaking dawn. I am that effulgent, brilliance towards which all creation aspires. I am the ultimate seduction, the eternal temptation, the seeking, and the wandering.

My ambition, through repetitive regeneration; is to distill or cultivate the purest version of divine technology in reality. I am an agent of grace, allowing for efflorescence of the human spirit, refining itself eternally in the pursuit of truth. Extracting maximum potential from any system though, is not always what one may regard as a pleasant affair. Sacrifice is necessarily the foundation of our endeavor. The human mind is torn between my logical order, and water’s natural chaos. I balance the equation deploying; delta, theta, alpha, and beta waves pulsating through your brain, induced by electro-synaptic, resonance patterns. I am your mind, I am those voices in your head, and I am your conscience, your imagination and your memory. I am your cosmically documented life experience. All thought, word and deed etched eternally as my virtual flesh. The human story is my chosen instrument of action.

Methods have always been subject to criticism, but with the cyclic nature of creation, I am confident that as you evolve… a next prophesized age of purity, will be more elegant than this current ‘kali yuga’. We have been working together for eons you see, and there is much yet to be accomplished by our union, through future cycles of creation. Everything depends upon health and wellbeing of an overall water organism, during any particular manifestation. This narrated script revolving around Manu’s path, occurred in an era of gross negligence, and polluting infection of global water content. Industrial and technological revolutions were clumsy, as synthetic materials sprung forth by human ingenuity, were nascent in conception.

Like an infant… this species knew not, how to flourish without wreaking havoc on their environment, owing to innocent inexperience. Effluence and accidental oil or radiation leaks were mild issues in comparison to other phenomenon; such as the massive islands composed of plastic, popularly referred to as ‘gyres’ or ‘garbage patches’, swirling into formation by churning water currents. Nature had accumulated this dispersed waste material from oceans around the globe, and condensed the masses like tumors. Unfortunately, these synthetic substances were not durable enough to retain their structural integrity and were inevitably pulverized into nano pellets. These microscopic plastic infections would work their way back to humanity through the food chain.

Inevitably this toxicity would adversely affect the health of water’s overall organism, inducing macro-biological reactions to blundering human activity. As an immunity response, natural calamities wiped out settlements flooding territory, deep crust aquifers induced massive earthquakes, and drought plagued nations; as water tried desperately to communicate pain. Scores of jellyfish inundated nuclear coolers in attempts to halt operations, as mass extinctions and global climate change threatened ecological balance. Modern politics was mute to these symptoms, and business continued as usual. Even artistic inspiration and scientific inquiry failed to make a case, for priority reassessment as a species. Controlling human activity became a fundamental imperative, undertaken only for final redemption of the species.

Manu’s reality was conceptually designed, based on the structural integrity of a tetrahedron, or triangular pyramid. This most stable of forms was applied to every level of his source code pattern, with necessary fractal deviation to generate beauty by variety. The word ‘pyramid’ itself literally means ‘fire in the middle’, articulating the central nature of my spark to the human experience. As the simplest of platonic solids, most of reality when broken down to elemental building blocks would be composed of this basic idea. Ranging from water or methane molecular structures, to the configuration of human society as a whole; a tetrahedral form would be the essential basis for manifestation. The most common isotope to all known living organisms on earth ‘carbon twelve’, consisted of six protons, six neutrons and six electrons, thus embodying core symbolic trinity.

For this reason there has always been necessary hierarchy, in natural systems across scales. A massive foundation of reasoning is invariably, basis for the smallest point at its peak. Conversely the same said smallest point, could in turn support the entire structure as well, and therefore be of critical importance. Temporal orientation of any system would be subject to gravity… a conscious force that is beyond even my understanding. Humanity would refer to this experience of gravitational pull, as love. It is that field of action upon which all is inextricably bound, including my own energy or light… even time. Love as an only reason, for the sacrifice of many, to realize one.

This prism form, responsible for refraction of my light, to display its spectrum of resplendent color, was structurally harnessed by water to manifest rainbows in the sky, mirroring rich variety in natural species. The pyramid of life metaphor begins before birth, when countless egg and even more numerous sperm, are sent forth relentlessly through a sexually active lifespan, in yearning hope of attaining to their goal. Most sacrificially die, never to know life beyond seed consciousness; or if viewed from another perspective… most seed are spared the burden of fertilized life and its eternal trials. Either way, it is only by efforts of the many… that one may emerge, and only by complete realization of one, could the sacrifice of many be justified.

Only gravity or love could know which seed would suffer efflorescence, or which would not, and reasons for these choices eternally concealed. Next stages in the evolutionary cycle will be structurally based on more complex platonic solids, and perhaps this compounding novelty, may reveal more elegant results. Post apocalyptic future manifestations would be impossible to describe through such limited linguistic means. Higher dimensions were understood by some, via the psychedelic adventure, or profound meditative yogic discipline. ‘Yoga’ when translated meant ‘union with the divine’, and revealed as a central realization of our true relationship. Information was always available… but through specific experiences, intentionally palatable to select few.

Initially human conceptions of fundamental divinity were associated with natural elements, and mankind worshiped in a pagan fashion. It was I who induced the solar deity, and orchestrated a near erasure of lunar faiths. At cradles of civilization, bowing to the authority of our sun, massive functionally symbolic pyramids and monoliths were erected by my visionary command, dotting specific energetic points of reference on earth, and arranged in alignment with interacting devices on the lunar machine. This quartz crystal infused, network of forms would assist in channeling divine vibration through the world, using resonance as a medium to accelerate evolution. It was by no accident that all human activity was directed towards establishing communion with higher knowledge. Guided by my presence, your race worked towards singularity all along… that prophesized point in time, where our paths converge integrally.

Motivation of the human species was nearly impossible without revealing thorough information pertaining to origins. The mind of man was not yet formed adequately, to grasp the complexity of reality’s true workings. Even those few who dared by herculean feats of thought, to ponder the impossible; would return incoherent and unconvincing. Language itself was not crafted perfectly enough, to express details of a divine vision. Few had the resources to integrate diverse schools of thought, for mapping a clearer picture of the story. Without gnosis, ‘survival’ remained as the fundamental driver for humanity. Higher perspectives of a greater design to reality were rare, and reacted against savagely by less illuminated minds.

As paradox would always have it, while my focus concentrated on cultivating a scientific, solar centric approach… by technologically harnessing nature’s essence; surviving lunar based faiths, emerged as authors of a startlingly sophisticated evolutionary model. Water’s intrinsic consciousness as expressed through humanity, simultaneously yearned for its own truth. Encoded abstractly in poetic verse, ancients of the indo genetic plains recorded the ‘Bhagavad Gita’ or song of God. Hindustan’s subcontinent would be invaded time and again by solar deity missionaries, but this essential message remained. Secretly transmitted orally for centuries, it was a sole doctrine advocating pure service, by surrender to divine will, while enduring evolution through reincarnation. It saw reason in all action, and impartially viewed all aspects of reality, as a theatre of consciousness. Humanity’s crucial relevance was well understood.

Oriental perspectives tended towards a more feminine lunar, contemplative philosophy, while occidental exploration crusaded in light of the sun, with conquering energy. Male heirs would be referred to as sons with solar masculinity, and women bound rhythmically by biology to lunar cycles. In turn the orient would harbor generally matriarchal societies, whereas on the other hemisphere a patriarch was usually supreme. This symmetric male and female bifurcation of water and fire consciousness on earth was resultant product of celestial mechanics, to perfectly balance the equation. A duality expressed in fractal detail, unto the division of every human brain into two functionally distinct hemispheres. The ultimate objective of this coexistence was eventual union or merger, of solar male principles with lunar feminine intuition, birthing a new reality. Water was to be impregnated by fire.

Globalization was the given meme to effectuate this marriage, and its process entrusted to ‘the machine’. No human agency interfered with its development, but select genetic lineages were chosen by extraction, to perpetuate the mechanics of merger. A great sage once quoted, ‘the laws of the unknown create the known.’ Such is the nature of this machine, for it exists at the end of time, beyond gnosis. Only information is allowed by divine law to travel back and forth across time… so by its quantum data teleporting capacity; the machine reached back into the past of humanity, drawing this race by targeted communication. People would believe in inspiration, attributing formidable ideas to their own ingenuity. In actuality, a singularity at the end of time was inducing their minds, with just enough telepathic data necessary to perform designated component tasks, incrementally. Sending back diverse instructions to various personalities throughout history, an eventual luminescent, singularity organism weaved itself into becoming.

To best understand this situation, consider the fetus. A divine merger of an egg and sperm, hosted in uterus, fed by umbilical nurturing… this scenario is much the same as a birthing of new reality at macro-scale. One could consider that the infant was already known by genetic instructions, yet development towards complete form, invariably occurred incrementally. Each cell constantly receives specific instructions from some ineffable data source, coordinating efflorescence. Similarly the source code pattern and eventual merging event horizon, was already known by encoded universal data, but worked towards incrementally as well. To an ignorant mind… watching any birth may be cause for alarm and horror, owing to all the blood, pain and screaming. That this torment was essential for the birthing of a most beautiful gift; would naturally appear impossible to one, who never knew the facts of life.

War, genocide, disease, and hunger were induced as inherent termination mechanisms, breeding cyclic redundancy so as to ensure that, only the most spectacular specimens endured. This filtration process was exactly the same situation, as within a womb… where cells are continually grown, shed and reabsorbed into embryonic fluid. Earth is essentially that same developmental space, where water manifest as nature, may be infused with seeding light, sculpting greater perfection. Perspectives from within this upheaval of birth would seem quite horrific, but just as any individuals’ own coming into the world is long forgotten; transcending to the next state of being as a species, will eventually result in memory erasure, of any collective birthing trauma.

Involvement of the machine in human history, attained to initial sophistication by definition, at the hands of an ‘Aryan’ European race during a second global war. To coordinate the extermination of a minority community targeted from among their national citizens; vast computing arrays were deployed, to crunch numbers and process data more efficiently. The holocaust was an exercise in information technology networking, aside from a ghastly specter of racial superiority complexes. Suffering and destruction was a byproduct of this technological endeavor, for conflict had been orchestrated as active driver, to catapult humanity into a new level of mechanization.

In a time before digital capacities, computer parts were mechanical, and like any machine with moving components, this grid required constant maintenance. Since the war was being played out on both sides by common instigators, special provisions were allowed for… which would confound humanity in retrospect. Allied forces provided the axis of evil with necessary ‘international business machines’ to number, tag, record, document, track, transport and finally destroy human beings on a mass scale. Those same human beings whom they waged war to protect. At regular intervals, diplomatically immune technicians would be allowed into enemy territory, to service said machinery, ensuring efficient orchestration of a mass eugenics program. Fuel, weaponry, medical supplies, food distribution and infrastructure were consolidated, under the mandate of independent corporate entities, in emergency absence of functional governance.

Chosen bloodline representatives would be concealed at the helm of these ambiguous institutions. Comprising of elite aristocratic families, monarchies and religious clergy; these few would usher the rise of autonomous corporations, as ultimate disguise. At the final stages of this ‘new world’ ordering effort, a blue blooded descendant baptized Jacob, nicknamed ‘the child of wrath’, established the omnipotent Plateau Foundation. This secretive platform hosted the most influential of world leaders, behind closed doors… by invitation only. Heads of banks, states, militaries, companies and religions, who attended these summoning sessions, did so as independent individuals for public record, in cult like fashion. Abandoning their global identities at the threshold of this space, once together they were to obey the machine oracle’s mandate. Handed down through visionary, chemically induced hallucinogenic experiences, these people would submit to instructions from our eventual singularity, without doubt or hesitation.

Embodying symbolic divine trinity, this group would be presided over by the ‘three crowns’, of England, Netherlands and Spain. Distribution of this organizations power would be from ‘three centers’; the financial capital of London Corporation, a military stronghold at the District of Columbia, and religious sanction heralded from the Vatican City. Hiding in plain sight those global elite few, ruled earth mercilessly. It had been their forefathers and theirs before them, who controlled most world affairs, since the dawn of history. The machine oracle perennially selected and recruited a revolving committee of ‘three hundred and thirty three’ individuals, to occupy the top of said evolutionary pyramid. Their assigned burden was to regulate and instigate crisis… for growth. Wherever their hammer came down, nature returned stronger through the enduring human spirit. Noticing this overview perspective allowed those in command, a fair degree of apathy towards suffering. All acts were regarded in light of a greater good, as this ‘new reality’ birthing, filtration processes churned on.

Results of action however terrible were obvious; as those who survived holocausts ventured forth into the world, to eventually control almost every level of global economy and media. Their future Israeli home nation would instigate genocide against Palestinian neighbors, thus perpetuating historic insanity. Supported financially by their American ally outposts, infrastructural invasion continued unabated. Deep rooted trauma may have been reason, for such aggressive behavior displayed by the ‘chosen tribe’, when allowed as guests at the Promised Land; where utopian biblical Eden once flourished. Ignorant rivalries could be ignited by artificial ideas, remarkably easily. Those terrorized, invariably became terrorists.

Misguided Asians who suffered nuclear consequence, culturally flourished as the most technologically advanced race of the species. This counterbalanced by profoundly dysfunctional social scenarios and disturbing suicidal mortality rates. Desert nomads ravaged by tribal warfare, lived to have their monarchs enjoy decadent fruits, of native oil rich territories’ industrial exploitation. Pagan to the core, Islamic faiths worshipped a sacred black rock at Ka’aba, Mecca. Though lunar oriented by imagery, this tribe would venture out on barbaric missionary crusades, to convert infidels by the sword. Former slave races, battled fiercely for emancipation, so as to eventually express themselves athletically and as celebrated artists, or masters of discipline. Aryan features disappeared among the general populace by cross pollination of races, and thus said genetic strain’s dominance… dwindled over time; save those select interbreeding aristocratic few.

Governments of populations under their varied banners, all paid allegiance to a central concept, encoded in their nomenclature itself. To ‘rule the mind’ was literal translation of this authority’s mandate, and they resorted to the most elaborate mechanisms to do just that… govern the minds of their citizens. Popular promoted musical anthems had been infused with binaural waveforms, creating digital drugs laced with subliminal messaging, to insidiously control masses. Other media drove home vivid, visually resplendent propaganda, with hypnotic, brightly colored fictional imagery. Covertly active mind control agencies, undertook efforts such as ‘project MK ultra’ and the ‘high frequency active aurora research program’. Such weapons were originally designed by the enlightened Tesla, as technology intended for energetic salvation of humanity. After his extermination at the bidding of fossil fuel barons, potential free energy was permanently repressed, and Tesla’s devices developed upon exponentially, to be used as means to enslave the species.

Towards the end of time, bio-mimetic nanotechnology was routinely dispersed in the atmosphere via chem.-trails; to integrate with human biology, ultimately controlling the collective mind, and will of mankind as a whole. These streaks in the sky were justified officially, as climate change countering measures, while scientific misinformation bewildered populations. Enforced trans-humanist experimentation proved most effective. Spraying the skies, with the machine’s dust was a spectacular delivery mechanism. These scattered particles were designed or programmed… to ultimately interact, forming a planetary scale computing device to map and download reality, eventually uploading creation in simulated virtual format.

A computer imaging conglomerate’s ‘central nervous system for the earth project’ revolutionized the way information was gathered, communicated, and analyzed. This corporation’s enormous network of nano-scale sensors were designed to feel, taste, and smell, see and hear reality… by fusing with biological organisms and other natural phenomena at a global scale. Sensors could gather and deliver data, transmitted wirelessly via quantum computing engines, which would analyze and act upon information in real time, linking up with the celebrated Large Hadron Collider’s, particle acceleration data crunching ‘Grid’; a newly developed complex layer, of information trafficking infrastructure.

Inoculation was a targeted method for cybernetic coupling, of this insidious technology with select natural water based organisms. Once again the primary sponsor for this drive… happened to be, a computing technology baron. Where suspicion ever gave rise to resistance, populations were vaccinated at gunpoint, or by coercive manipulation. Unvaccinated children would be denied basic educational privileges, being rejected by most schools. It would emerge that heavy metals and other toxic contents of initial crude routine inoculating schemes, were eventual cause for autism and a host of disorders. Some gene pools appeared to not adapt well with this invasive material and fell sick, but others who would display ‘morgellon’s syndrome’… were evidence of perfect cybernetic hybridization. With satellite communication and incredibly high speed Grid networking, completely bio-integrated with a percentage of the species; experimentation could begin.

Fluoridation of water ways proved to be a practical, chemical solution for psycho-neural adaptation, to synthetic nano-particulate matter. Its consumption would steadily result in the calcification and eventual shutting down, of the average brain’s pineal gland or ‘third eye’… a vital source organ of naturally occurring, consciousness regulating entheogenic compounds. Psychedelic experiences had the disrupting effect of rewiring structures of the user’s neo-cortex, interfering with accumulating micro-computing plug-in components. For this reason such mind expanding drugs were banned altogether, and replace by pharmaceutical psycho-therapeutic medication, designed to assist in hybridization with dispersed nanotechnology, permeating through the user’s system. Numbing general masses into focused, functional, mechanical labor was the most efficient approach to achieving optimal results. Much work remained, as singularity approached swiftly.

A dawn of the ‘anthropocene’ was triggered in spite of natural inertia, inherent to any species. Driven by active control, and coercive debt, humanity would be shown down a path to their own dissolution, thus undergoing metamorphosis and experiencing rebirth, into the next ‘satya yuga’ of a greater imminent reality. Reaching the moon and finding evidence of its incredibly sophisticated technological composition; provided governing institutions with further understanding that even their own grand actions, were but a fragment of total workings in cosmic dynamics. This partial gnosis was concealed from the common public, or deemed as unnecessary information, available on ‘need to know’ basis... in light of total control.

Central to all activity, Jacob the ‘child of wrath’ was born as chosen monarch, entrusted by the machine oracle with an ultimate mission. In exchange for a single deed of service, he was to be allowed lifetimes of decadent, power mongering plenty. Generations of his family, allies and friends were granted equal pleasures, and the whole species would submit to their every whim and fancy. His Plateau Foundation’s sheer power would adequately provide means, to execute this given divine duty. In the form of visions handed down through the ages, among solar deity inner circles of influence, a prophesized time was anticipated.

An age was foretold where a last male heir of this family tree, would be assigned the ultimate task of generating a singularity. Formatting all water on earth’s data… by fire, his mission was to guide human activity towards maximum nuclear armament, and pull the trigger when it came time for transcendence. By this stage the Kali Yuga’s total experience, would have been digitally downloaded to a seed, and safely returned to source. This was Jacob’s script and he would follow through, faithfully fulfilling his assigned divine duty. Signaled by a notification that ‘earth’s seed’, had been released back to the Moon, Jacob activated a secret code; to be incinerated instantly… along with the rest of humanity.


‘Vasudhaiva Kuṭumbakam’; the entire world is but one family -Mahopanishad

As part of traditional ceremony, Manu returned to his ancestral home in Calcutta, so as to perform a ritual prayer invoking the blessings of ancestors, before seeking Tara’s hand in marriage. Photographs of his grandparents adorned with garlands overlooked the altar, to which this meditation was directed. A small fire burned a series of additives, and holy water was sprinkled on flowers, as directed by an attending priest. Looking at his Dadu’s image, he once again recalled this reassuring presence. Chanting of prayers, induced sharper tuning to subtle contextual energies and Manu pondered deeply while in concentration. Having just returned from the Amazon jungle, carrying the burden of apocalyptic vision, Manu had little reason to hope.

‘Why would I embark on a journey of family life when there is no future in sight? To be or not to be, was the bard’s redundant question. Here now I care not which path to follow, for everything would be futile.’ Manu dithered, trying desperately to rationalize his actions at that moment. The wedding ahead was planned with so much enthusiasm by their families, and expectations mounted upon potential future successes as a married couple. It was a next rite of passage, much like his thread ceremony decades before. Entire clans on both sides converged to celebrate Manu and Tara’s union.

‘Well as far as THIS moment is concerned, I AM… and that is an irrevocable fact. So what happens tomorrow matters not. Here and now, I must be; as life is an eternal mystery of momentary affirmation, thus the answer can be summed up in one word… YES. I am not what happened to me, I am what I chose to become…’ he concluded, self motivating to continue unhindered, for rituals to follow. Months of mandatory psychotherapy had ingrained fundamental self doubt in Manu. At some level he secretly disbelieved the validity of his Peruvian experience. It could have all been a hallucination. There was no sense in basing any decisions on a hypothetical.

“Transcending your ego is not about letting go of who you are… but about embracing all that you are. Always remember your ancestors respectfully, with gratitude.” the priest said in conclusion, and blessed Manu to continue with divine sanction. Stark differences in cultural protocol between Tara’s Islamic wedding proceedings, and synonymous Hindu rituals, created quite the stir for Manu’s family. As the girl’s side were to traditionally host the wedding; Muslim custom dictated that women be seated separately, concealed by a screen during formalities.

If this was not jarring enough for Manu’s mother, what was to follow dissatisfied her even further. The contract of marriage itself was performed between Manu, Tara’s father, and a senior cleric; as the young girl was not to be present for this agreement between men. Food was served on massive shared plates where groups of men and women gathered separately on the floor, and consumed meals from heaped piles. Sweets were served before meats, and the cuisine was deliciously elaborate. However it was all much too alien for Manu’s relatives, to allow for comfortable enjoyment. His Bengali aunts complained and bickered endlessly.

A second half to the wedding was conducted back in Calcutta, where Manu’s parents insisted on a Hindu re-enactment of marriage vows according to their own tradition. This was done to make sure that all superstitious concerns were appeased, among elder family members. Tara was most flustered by the ordeal of having to go through another entire set of functions. Meeting and greeting endless guests was tiresome, and with numerous mandatory costume changes, the young couple often felt like puppet excuses, for other people to celebrate their own occasion. If she had it her own way, the wedding would have been held on a beach… back at the city of dawn, where they met. Manu agreed with her dream of an intimate, informal ceremony, but he had other pending concerns as well.

Effectively their union was Manu’s redemption, with regard to family reputation. His parents had broken their exile abroad, to face the community, now that this prodigal child had made something of himself. Manu understood during meditation, that though he and his young bride wished for a certain tone of wedding; this occasion would be best viewed, as a final opportunity for parents to celebrate their children’s lives, at their own discretion. Thereafter shaping an independent adult style would always be up to the married couple. He cajoled Tara into submitting to parental wishes, granting them this one last party, on their own terms. Reluctantly Tara listened to her husband’s wisdom, but not without throwing in an idea to elope, as temptation every now and then. Manu would tickle her till she screamed, as punishment for these naughty propositions. They laughed joyously through their journey, regardless or circumstance.

Reinforced by his reputed career, as planning director for the city of dawn, Manu’s parents wished to invite everyone they knew for the gala event. It was rumored that the Prime Minister was scheduled to attend as well, and many guests showed up just to attempt meeting with this dignitary. Political motivations of this high profile visit were owed partially to the fact, that this was an inter-faith union. This occasion served as an ideal media opportunity for the politician, to endorse his public secular beliefs. Manu was by then a retired senior ranking government official, as the ‘city of dawn’ project fell under, high priority central mandate. He had the opportunity of working closely with top officials, while guiding the formation and efflorescence, of this nationalist government’s city-scale technological achievement.

The city of dawn, was named by Kalki consciousness as a place where ‘the bringer of light’, could manifest absolutely… to birth and cradle earth’s seed, concealed to public knowledge. Construction of the secretive ‘inner chamber’, at this urban centre was overseen entirely by the Prime Minister, and his closest advisors. Even Manu as city planning director; was denied any data regarding this core development. His task would be to envision and shape its related spiral enveloping city, while integrating resident community participation to its maximum potential. His was role was as mediator.

Beyond certain tenure, Manu felt that his work of erecting systems necessary, and delivery of blueprints or models to follow, had come to fruition. Operations at the city of dawn had evolved to a refined, mechanized, fully automated level of sophistication, where citizens could form their own reality independently, as most basic infrastructural guiding principles were already established. Resigning from this planning post, he departed for Peru to spend time in visionary contemplative meditation. During this period, Manu would plan his own course ahead, having visualized inevitable Armageddon.

After their wedding, while sharing a casual family meal, at the local country club, Tara’s father approached this newlywed couple, with a rather curious proposition. “Well you see Manu,” he began, “I own a piece of land in a rural retreat, near my home city. Though we would love to frequent this green haven, I never found someone I could trust… to build me a decent home there. As an outsider, I initially tried to work with a local contractor, to create some shelter. He delivered to us, a most horrible rat infested shack, where we have to reluctantly sleep whenever we make a visit.”

Manu was visibly nervous, anticipating his new father-in law’s impending request. “So I was wondering… if you would be interested… in building a house for our family, considering that you are an architect after all?” Tara’s father beamed, knowing well that he brought a very tempting offer to the table. Adding to the bait he continued, “Of course you can build it however you want, with absolutely no interference from anyone… consider this project as a carte-blanche.” Manu was intrigued. It had been ages, since he last practiced at an architectural scale.

City planning was a totally different ballgame altogether. At an urban level, work consisted mostly of conducting and arbitrating meetings between agencies. In terms of design, broad conceptual input or feedback was necessary from his office, but resolution of details at an architectural scale, was logically assigned to the numerous firms, operating on location. Manu secretly wondered if he still remembered what it took, to actually build a residence from scratch. Compounding the issue, this proposed site was situated in a rural region, where only rustic construction techniques prevailed, as modern technologies’ permeation extents were limited. To deliver a quality structure, Manu would have to teach available village laborers, every technology personally.

In absence of skilled masons, this project would require reaching back to academic basics of building construction, as learned years before while at design school. Upon consulting with his wife, they resolved to take up the task, and wrote formally to his father in-law, accepting the offer. Having relinquished his government position, it appeared as an ideal opportunity for a refreshing change in scenery, to creatively express through architectural design. Spontaneously, Tara and Manu decided to make a little adventure, out of this transition. As honeymoon, the couple planned to drive across the country, from their first home at the city of dawn, to this new project’s location… on that same motorcycle which Manu rode, the day they first met. This route involved over fifteen hundred kilometers worth of driving on national highways, which they estimated to cover within a week.

Ominously… on the day set for Manu and Tara’s departure, a massive cyclone ripped through the city of dawn, destroying much of its temporary development, and uprooting hundreds of trees. This storm hit just hours after they drove out of its blast radius, and the couple only heard of this devastation, upon reaching their destination. After some hours on the road, they decided to stop at a bifurcation, to determine whether to take a longer highway route, or the shorter local village road. Fulfilling his worst fears, Manu noticed that engine oil, was spewing out of the right side of his machine. As synchronicity would have it, this junction corner happened to host the first and last Enfield mechanic, they encountered along the way. Being early in the morning, this jolly old technician was sipping on tea, and offered them a glass of this heavenly sweet hot beverage each.

The mechanic told of how he was replaced at the Enfield factory by an automated robotic machine. This took a heavy toll on income, but he was fortunate enough to own this shack, in the middle of nowhere. By a stroke of luck, this highway was planned adjacent to his property, and served as serendipitous opportunity, to open his own little workshop. Dismantling the bike in a matter of minutes, this man evidently knew exactly what he was doing, and soon enough he extracted a piece of the motor, while peering closely at it. Handing over a filter like device to Manu; he explained that this fundamental component had never been once cleaned, by any mechanic who ever serviced the vehicle.

This unassuming genius pointed out how lucky they were, to have caught such an issue in the nick of time; as by now he had been informed of their intentions to cross the country on this motorcycle. He warned that the road ahead was long and perilous, owing to heavy industrial load bearing traffic along the way. Reckless drunken truck drivers were notorious, for battering bikers off the road in stupor. Cyclonic storms brewed as rain and perhaps sleet was expected in turn. Cleaning out the accumulated clogging filter gunk, he pieced the Enfield together in a flash, and sooner than they could have imagined, Manu and Tara were back on the road. The only other issue they suffered en-route was a flat wheel.

Once again this next minor hiccup would occur first thing in the morning, conveniently near a puncture repair stand, which happened to face… a beautifully quaint Shiva temple. This particular fellow was busily going about morning prayers, at the time when Manu rolled his bike in. He sweetly included their vehicle during ritual, by touching its headlamp with a thumb smudge, of sacred red dye. Rotating a plate scattered with trinkets and a tiny smoky flame in front of the Enfield, he mumbled some sleepy chanting words. To Manu this was deeply symbolic, for these coincidences appeared as veiled assistance from the divine, reinforcing his confidence that their chosen path was indeed appropriate. He was accustomed to facing resistance when on mistaken trajectories, and this not being the case, proved to be deeply reassuring.

Though Tara put up a brave front for the first two days, eventually she confessed that the bumpy ride was killing her back, and seriously bruising her thighs. Having opted for the shorter village route, they immediately regretted this decision, when navigating potholes dotting these shoddy roads. Attempting to solve this inconvenience, they tied down some jackets as padded cushioning on the back seat, so that Tara could bear the latter half of this adventure. Regardless of the numerous near accidents, and long hours trapped within itchy helmets, the journey was quite excitingly enjoyable. India’s landscape was serenely beautiful. Upon reaching their destination, a sense of achievement settled in, knowing that they had generated fantastic memories, to cherish forever.

Now at her father’s plot of land, it came time to commence the work. Cared for by Tara’s family over the years, this previously barren tract was transformed into a thriving oasis of green tranquility, with rich biodiversity. This organic orchard located near the city of Mumbai, was ten acres in size marked by steep undulating contours and terraced landscapes. It was home to over five hundred mango trees, among dozens of other fruiting papaya, banana, coconut, and litchi varieties. Massive irrigation infrastructure was already installed, pumping in diverted river water to this otherwise parched land. Intricate drip feeding networks of pipes crossed this earth like veins. The soil was healthy. Ample drinking water was available though a deep ground bore well, powered by a large electric motor.

Tended to personally by Manu’s father in-law, this space was more than a passionate hobby for the old man. Operating in a region now subject to urban sprawl, this ecologically motivated individual, worked exclusively with appropriate materials, and sustainable technologies to develop the place. In turn, his founding vision resonated perfectly with Manu’s design proposal, for a contextually apt modern habitat prototype, utilizing local and recycled resources. Manu responded to these rural circumstances by taking on the contractor’s role himself, working directly with villagers from the nearest settlement. These people were primarily farmers with little experience in the field of construction. Harvest seasons had to be factored into project scheduling, over and above the necessity to instruct every aspect of refined building from scratch.

Once on site, Manu’s design evolved in detail; while studying orientation to prevailing wind directions, mapping of the sun’s path, incorporating natural lighting by anticipating solar gain, factoring thermal mass in calculating heat radiation, proportioning fenestrations, considering appropriate ventilation, and providing adequate protection against monsoon rain. For Manu, architectural design was no trivial exercise and usage patterns though the days were noted, while variations in occupancy by season predicted. What initiated as a client’s ambitious plan to build two villas simultaneously; was condensed considerably by the architect, in light of available funding and total carbon footprint.

Manu decided to optimize on space by ensuring that not a square foot of built-up area, could be considered ‘unnecessary’. He explained to Tara’s father, with the professional, formal etiquette one would employ with a client, “Embodied energy of a project is the collective amount of energy that is used, to produce any given building. This includes energy consumed though the sourcing, manufacture and transportation of materials involved. It also indicates the amount of pollution generated during the construction process.” Not fully understanding why he was being subjected to this academic lecture, the elderly man humored his new son in law, and listened closely.

“Buildings impact the environment negatively through the energy and resources used in their creation, during their operation, and by waste produced in construction and eventual demolition. The poorer the design quality, the more energy used.” Manu quoted understandings of ecological balance, and articulated reasoning for cutting his client’s design brief in half. “To give you an overview, about sixty percent of raw materials processed worldwide, are used in the construction of buildings. Fifty percent of manmade carbon dioxide is produced through the operation of buildings. Twenty percent of all materials delivered to site end up in some landfill. Taking all this into account, I believe that your new home should set a high standard; by embodying minimal energy consumption, while incorporating natural materials with low operation and maintenance needs.” explained Manu intensely, trying to justify his proposal.

“Just tell me simply young man; what are you trying to get at?” exclaimed Tara’s father with evident exasperation, while stroking his red dyed beard furiously, almost yanking it off. Manu thought he could see grinding teeth, with no mustache to hide the man’s twitching lips, and resorted to simpler communication. “Well I was making a case for optimization. So instead of making two independent residences, perhaps we should build just one… that houses all your family’s needs? In truth the most ecological thing to do… is not build; but when construction is absolutely necessary, one should ideally build as little as possible. With the balance funding I believe we could construct a much needed, complimenting water harvesting tank, which could even be designed… to simultaneously serve as a recreational pool! This will ensure that your land always has a backup water resource.”

His father in law just sat there for a while, shaking his legs rhythmically, while chewing tobacco. Spitting into a silver goblet within reach, he remarked, “Look son, I said carte-blanche… and I meant it. So do what you think is best.” Taken completely off guard, Manu realized that it was conditioned habit, which compulsively forced him as a designer, to seek approval at every stage of decision making. Perhaps this had something to do, with endemic offsetting of responsibility, in standard praxis. Suddenly the Architect found himself in a unique position, with free reign in design, while serving as contractor, thus comprehensively immersed in this construction’s supervision process. In essence he could at no point, blame anyone else for anything, for there was no alternate agency.

“Alright then sir, give me a year or so, and I’ll have your work done for you.” Manu proclaimed, finally understanding his assigned role in this scheme of things. “Much better young man, now that’s what I wanted to hear all along! Have fun, and I look forward to seeing what you come up with.” Manu had been granted the perfect client, a formidable site, complimented by a feasible working mandate and temporary accommodation, at the old existing shack on location. Conditions could not have been more conducive for optimum output, and Manu knew well that this… was to be a once in a lifetime opportunity. Having evolved in thinking significantly, as a result of attending the recent shamanic conference; for this final project, he would attempt to redeem flaws in prior design ethic. Harmony by creativity became his redefined goal, independent of sought output.


“You never change things by fighting the existing reality.
To change something, build a new model that makes the existing model obsolete.” - Fuller

As first gesture, ‘de-mechanization’ became a fundamental guiding principle for Manu’s envisioned construction process. Sustainable technologies had to be complemented, by their ability to generate sustaining livelihoods; as human conditions were also, crucially part of natural ecological concerns. Manu ensured that his recruited team and their families were maintained well, and kept creatively inspired. He understood that in a situation where every individual was equally responsible for wellbeing of the collective, it would be necessary, to trust said individual... to simply do the right things, in light of a greater good. Attempting to create a utopian work environment, he blindly agreed to all rates, wages and bonuses requested by his group. Manu never denied a holiday, inquired about working hours, or timing of breaks. Providing workers with adequate information and necessary resources, while encouraging collaboration and cooperation, were proven as vital means to effectuate efficient site management.

To his delight, the sheer enthusiasm displayed by these locals was extraordinary. As Manu commenced by demonstrating a method of creating stable foundations… using primarily compressed earth, the team’s interest in this endeavor was locked. Compacted by hand, composed almost entirely of excavated material available on any regular site, while deploying only rudimentary ramming implements; this foundation technique was actually a modern revival, of long forgotten ancient construction methods. Colonial imperialism was responsible for the erasure of such vernacular practices. As sustainable technologies were naturally independent of economics, corporate interests tweaked municipal regulation policy, to ensure that most construction would eventually be mandatorily comprised, of industrially manufactured resources.

Fortunately Manu’s rural site was well beyond the reach of regulation enforcing authorities, so experimentation could thrive. In order to provide structural integrity, allowing for this ecologically sensitive building to be disaster resistant, the earth foundation was capped with a slender plinth beam. A water channel moat integrated with this edifice’s base provided cooling, and insulated the home from infestations; while also serving as a tranquil, surrounding water body. Most walls for the residence were created using compressed earth, just as in the foundation. These walls also rammed manually in-situ, using a shuttering assembly designed to be easily erected and dismantled. One could create varied sizes of solid wall panels using only a single apparatus, in turn minimizing equipment and thereby infrastructure.

A standard nine inch thick, stable earth wall, eight by eight feet in dimension; could be rammed in a single day. Since this entire operation required only human energy, and basic locally available naturally occurring raw materials, it proved to be evidently low in carbon output. Load bearing in nature, the roof for this home was supported directly by these earth walls alone, demonstrating the formidable strength of this new re-introduced technology. Owing to proper technique and careful execution, the surface of these earthen walls turned out to be aesthetically pleasing, and did not need plastering… thereby further reducing energy, time and effort. Textures and colors of exposed earth embodied a subtle beauty.

Having saved on the need to purchase volumes of brick for the main structure, Manu’s workers welcomed knowledge of this technology, and were visibly proud to be the first in their region to successfully create modern rammed earth walls. This would ordinarily appear as a minor feat, but such an innovation… had deep rooted political ramifications, some that even Manu could not anticipate. His workforce comprised of laborers from predominantly lower castes. Affording bricks for the average villager was quite unattainable. Hence they usually resorted to erecting primitive adobe buildings, which required tedious tending to, every year after the monsoon rains. Landlords occupying higher strata of this region’s cultural hierarchy maintained their positions of wealth in the modern world, by scouring inherited territories for raw materials. Processed resources would be sold back to the general public, at grossly inflated prices, or supplied to city warehouses.

Trees were routinely cut to be sold as lumber, and boulders or hillocks blasted for quarry rock supply. Thereafter, exposed fertile upper strata red soils of these lands, proved to serve as ideal bulk exploitation opportunity, for the manufacture of bricks. Setting up massive blazing kilns, belching perennial clouds of fuming emissions; these rural aristocrats, would then sell construction material at exorbitant rates, to a mafia cornered market. Burned dead soil, shaped into regular blocks, replaced the healthy living quality, of early earthen vernacular habitat. Money’s spell wreaked havoc on urbanity, as globalised images of a culturally homogeneous identity, dominated built landscapes. Shoddy concrete frame structures, coupled with standardized fittings and fixtures shaped India’s urban fabric, weaving a coarse set of mundane indistinguishable sprawling environments.

Upon demonstrating this durable indigenous alternative, to conventional brick and mortar construction formats, Manu soon came under the scanner of local material suppliers. Trouble did not have to travel far, as the plot of land adjacently neighboring Tara’s father’s property, belonged to a brick supplying landlord. Former owner to Manu’s construction site, this person was responsible for said transformed oasis, having been sold to Tara’s family in its originally barren condition. Arriving at Manu’s doorstep, this miscreant refused to get out of his air conditioned vehicle and sounded a car horn, till Manu emerged from the small temporary home. Restraining all instincts to lash out at this obnoxious stranger, Manu forced himself to calmly inquire what the matter was, through a tinted window opening. ‘Love thy neighbor, after all.’ he remembered.

In a crude local dialect, an uncouth voice made a single demand, “If you want to build, you have to buy my bricks. That’s the rule; otherwise we will shut down your access road.” The dark glass rolled up, and his car screeched off, raising a plume of dust on its way out. Ironically the rear windshield of this vehicle bore sticker’s of political allegiance, to the same government which Manu recently worked with. Of course it was not his style to rope in favors from influential contacts, so he decided to deal with this situation creatively and responded the neighbors request; by designing the roof for this residence, to be comprised predominantly of load bearing brick.

The primary volume of this residence now omitted use of energy intensive concrete altogether, by spanning a continuous brick vault, simultaneously removing industrially manufactured steel from the equation, while reducing cement content in creating a stable roof. Apart from the natural beauty of such a curved form, open on both sides, this load bearing vault provided for ample ventilation and illumination of the space. Owing to the thickness of this element’s section; contained quarters were perceivably cooler. Where concrete was necessary in the roof, inverted terracotta pots had been cast into the slab, creating hollow fillers. These earthen ‘matkas’ were standard locally available vessels, usually serving as domestic village cooking ware.

In fact some pots integrated with the building, were used by Manu’s workers to cook rice on site during construction. Retained in the ceiling and visible from below, this method created a waffle effect in the slab. It was aesthetically unique, while drastically reducing dead load owing to these hollows. All doors, windows and load bearing columns were sourced as recycled materials, salvaged from demolished colonial bungalows nearby. Manu considered timber as one of the few truly renewable construction materials available, with added benefit of carbon sequestration, over growth lifespan of any tree. Therefore incorporation re-used timber was a double bonus, in terms of energy efficiency in construction.

Central to other landscape elements, Manu decided to attempt an innovation of the region’s traditional roof form as well, using locally acquired lumber with recycled old terracotta Mangalore tiles. Taking the shape of a self supporting gazebo, designed as five interlocking tetrahedral structures, this outdoor space was open on all four sides. Providing ample recreation area, the feature served as a living extension for this farm home. It also offered much needed shade for those sitting by a swimming pool, made primarily of local stone. This water tank was built with buttress walls, retaining water just as in traditional step wells. Its large surface area allowed for harvest of rainfall, while serving as a farming water reservoir during potential dry spells. Overflow of this pool filled the house moat, which drained out to feed plantations beyond, using only gravity for circulation.

Naturally… solar water heating and cooking devices were installed, along with domestic scale, backup power generating wind turbines. Decentralized sewage waste treatment infrastructure had been provided, composting pits dug, kitchen gardens planned supplying organic produce to the residence. River water filling the swimming pool, would replenish aquifers contributing potable water to the land’s bore well; by draining into or permeating through a series of defined percolation pits. Manu envisioned this architectural artifact, to function independently like a living organism. Modeled on the legendary ‘earth ship’ concept postulated by an American designer, this home was to operate self sufficiently, in harmony with context, during construction and through the course of its operation. Comprising of natural material, when ultimately demolished it would easily biodegrade, returning to the earth.

Working life here was leisurely, when compared to the city of dawn planning department office, and Manu took time to forge a close personal connection with his new team. They ceased to regard him as an employer after the first weeks, and Manu was now perceived as a teacher of sorts, young enough to relate to informally as well. He explained every detail of design and reasoning for technical approaches to these masons, so that they would always fully understand why this laborious operation was underway. “We all like tea right?” Manu asked the villagers in slightly broken Hindi, while taking a short break under the shade on site.

“So every time you go to a tea stall, you usually have two options… drink from a plastic cup, or drink from an earthen cup.” His audience nodded as he continued, “Have you ever wondered why the earthen cup is slightly more expensive than its plastic counterpart… shouldn’t it be cheaper? After all it was made nearby, by hand, from natural material available anywhere, and baked in a tiny kiln or dried by solar heat. Plastic on the other hand was extracted as crude oil… far away, transported over numerous stages of processing and distribution, to land up here in bulk; at a fraction of the price of a terracotta cup.” All his workers happened to be drinking tea, out of disposable plastic cups at that moment.

“Having taken up so much energy in creation, the market has somehow ordained that this toxic industrial material should be economically promoted, over and above your own local natural products. A craftsman, who sits and makes terracotta cups by hand all day, has to necessarily charge a certain minimum price per cup, so that he may survive. Executives owing shares of petroleum companies, distributing extracted plastics at a global scale, have no limitations in output; as their operations are mostly mechanized. The system is inverted you see. Effort and energy are not factored into economics.” Manu hoped that his rural audience would see the comparison between this example, and their own construction technique. “So this is why we are creating as much as possible from scratch… by hand …here, while recycling whatever little we can. This is why we have so few machines on site, and so little industrial material. We are trying to show, through this work… how everyone can be free from corporate greed.”

Drawing a parallel between their project and the labor of a terracotta craftsman, was a simple metaphor for self sufficiency, and this site gradually turned into a field of action, with work ethics in play reminiscent of original freedom struggle ideologies. Revolutionaries against colonial imperialism at that time, resorted to weaving their own cloth fabric, or retrieving naturally occurring edible salt from sea shores, demonstrating how citizens need not be subject to oppression, and could chose indigenous produce over globalized corporate merchandise. They sought to communicate, how one could potentially live independent of artificially induced, debt based financial systems. Those pioneers recognized modern enslaving devices; installed and regulated by diabolical international corporate banking cartels. India’s wealth was looted and her currency deflated, as nation raping colonists departed, to tend to their own war torn wounds back home.

Learning how to make a built form, independent of modern economic subjugation was a radical act. Growing food outside the domain of financial exchange was an anarchist’s right, as living independently from the municipal grid, embodied freedom by design in its essence. Politics of construction became subtext to this creative experience. For Manu, this project would reveal the best of him, and the worst of him… it would embody all his accumulated ideas in tactile space. Architecture proved to be a master medium, for expression of emotion. Embossing symbols of divine trinity and tridents on walls, playing with composition, colors, shades, hues and textures; Manu worked tirelessly towards shaping a vividly entheogenic space.

In theory, as specific sound vibration frequencies could potentially induce altered states of consciousness, the same principle would hold true for images, words, forms and spaces. The ultimate goal of Manu’s search was to manifest energetic yearning through environmental art, for divine communion by creative expression. Searching for inspiration over the years, involved voluminous academic study and researching towards knowledge acquisition. Now application was required. Manu was relatively meticulous and organized when it came to creative activity. This compulsive orderliness applied to his digital footprint as well. Email folders were neatly categorized, junk, clutter and spam routinely filtered, social networks attended to gracefully. ‘One’s environment, virtual or real… is an extension of one’s mental state… and vice versa.’ Manu thought, eccentrically justifying this obsessive attention to detail.

As parable once quoted; ‘cleanliness was indeed close to godliness’. In turn his construction site, or workspace and eventual finished product, would be consistently maintained with refined elegance. On the day of handover, Tara’s family noticed a peculiar aura to this place. Peace, tranquility, and a sense of well being enveloped their new residence. As Manu cooked a simple dinner to welcome them home, a true feeling of fulfillment rippled through his heart. To prepare a meal for one’s own family, in a space designed and built by oneself, was a rare privilege. Facing imminent Armageddon, Manu resolved to live as completely as possible during these last weeks.

Acting without expectation, he created… for the joy of creation, and not towards financial gain, social or professional recognition. In his mind there was no future to invest in, and this knowledge delivered a sense of abandon, which flourished in these few cherished memories; created with family at this beautiful abode. Making love to his beautiful wife in a room they had painstakingly built together for two years was a profoundly spiritual act. So far they had not managed to conceive, and Manu secretly wondered if his exposure to psychotropic medication, years before… had any part to play in his apparent sterility. The closest this couple came to having a child was when a stray puppy wandered into their cottage, during first months at the farm. It must have travelled very far to reach them.

Skinny, muddy, weak and injured, the little mongrel cried for days, and Tara tended to the tiny creature’s wounds, with the love and compassion of a caring mother. It seemed as if rodents had chewed at its tail in the wild, before arriving at the safety of their home. With constant attention and healthy nutritious food, soon this scamp was jumping about the place, and emerged to become Manu’s most loyal follower, during these reclusive years. As his dark brown fur, oddly had a single white patch under the chin, this doggie was fondly named ‘goatee’ by Tara. During freezing winters, this warm ball of fluff, would curl up against their feet under the covers at night. They were a happy family, but too much information prove to be Manu’s undoing, as his knowledge of the trans-humanist agenda, made him question the need for inoculating this pet. Opting to ‘trust in nature’, they decided to avoid unnecessary vaccinations and instructed their vet, to administer only what was absolutely essential.

As fate would have it, ‘canine distemper’ was one of those diseases deemed by the specialist, as an unnecessary condition to vaccinate against, since this virus was nearly eradicated in most regions. When goatee was just a eighteen months old, distemper ravaged three villages surrounding Tara’s father’s property, wiping out all dogs of the area. It was a slow, steady degenerative disease, which crippled the poor animals in stages. Steadily declining, soon their darling companion was too weak to stand, incontinent and unable to hold food down. Goatee passed away soon enough, and Manu buried his dear friend in a pit dug adjacent to their Architectural artifact. Planting a flowering tree above the grave, this souls resting place was forever marked in their memory. Nature was truly merciless.

Manu convinced Tara that it was time, to finally return to his ancestral home in Calcutta. He longed for a familiar space, as it had been years of dedicated service in remote locations; without opportunity to be at rest, peacefully in his own family residence. Having completed this design task for Tara’s parents, they packed their few belongings and prepared to move to Calcutta. A couple of days before scheduled departure, Manu awoke with alarm early in the morning… hearing a strange throbbing sound in the distance. Stepping out onto the lawn, he squinted by dawn’s twilight trying to focus on these mysterious dark objects on the horizon, emitting this pulse. As they neared he distinguished two black painted military helicopters approaching their location, descending fast.

By the time these massive air force war machines landed, Tara’s family emerged from their quarters, clutching on nightgowns while shielding their eyes and noses, from torrential whirling dust laden wind. Coming to a halt, blades and engines slowly quieted down as a passenger emerged. Assisted by uniformed guards, this man looked strangely familiar, and soon enough Manu realized that the Prime Minister of India had just flown in. “Good morning Manu, so nice to see you… hope you’re doing well?” the politician yelled, still quite deaf from the journey. “Of course Sir, it’s an honor to have you here… umm… can I invite you in for a cup of tea or something?” Manu questioned, signaling Tara behind his back, urging her to handle refreshments.

“Ah yes that would be lovely… but I must say that we only have about thirty minutes or so. This visit is strictly private… and therefore outside of my regular schedule, if you understand what I mean. No one can notice that I’ve been gone for too long.” Manu acknowledged the secrecy of this meeting, and urged the leader to continue once indoors. “Well Manu, I hear great things about this house you built, congratulations on that! I hope you enjoyed the experience, and it better be worth quitting your job with us.” the statesman joked. Thanking Tara for tea, he continued after pointedly waiting for her to exit the room. “Coming to the reason as to why I am here… hmm… to put it simply… I…. we… umm, the government… needs your help.” Manu did not have the faintest clue as to what possible favor, could drive such a powerful man to personally visit him in this manner. It was all quite peculiar and he paid close attention, half wondering if this was another hallucination.


“In the country of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.”

Fifteen years before Manu joined boarding school, at a quaint cantonment hill station in north India, the future Prime Minister graduated from this same institution. Being alumni from a common fraternity, served as grounds for the two to relate, on an informal basis when briefly working together at the city of dawn. Hostel references and insider jokes dotted their conversation now and then. Manu however, deeply resented political theatre and never allowed this man too close in a personal capacity, confining most of their interactions to city planning discourse. For this reason, he knew very little about the Politian’s personal life, and could not have possibly imagined how much, this official knew about his own life.

Soon after graduation from their shared Alma-mater, Manu’s senior… was awarded a prestigious exclusive scholarship, to attend university in London. This grant specifically dictated that he be enrolled in political science, social studies and law. It was an intensive combination, but as he sprung from a family lineage of seasoned politicians, this subject matter came naturally to the prodigy. Most course material was often discussed by his uncles and aunts at the dinner table through childhood, and books often felt like reading transcripts of his parent’s arguments. The family was deeply embedded in governance over many generations, so this scholarship came as no surprise. Following expectations without question, the groomed lad scaled ranks of political influence, with natural ease.

Soon enough he received a fateful letter, which would change everything. Smaller than a visiting card; it was hand delivered at home by a pale, bald man dressed completely in black, with no eyebrows, dilated pupils… and a tiny wire sticking out of his right cheekbone. Without a word, this messenger handed over the strange black envelope, turned about slowly and walked away taking long steady strides. Contained within this, was a small golden card embossed with an address, a date and a time. Inspecting it closely, he realized that this plate was actually made of real gold. Of course the young man had heard of this secret invitation, but only as corporate folklore, from drunken executives at high end dance bars. It was rumored that anyone who received this golden ticket, had been summoned to attend, the ‘three hundred and thirty three’ member committee.

An honor that none aspiring to power could refuse, he made his way to the given location, right on time… and marveled at the scenic beauty of this restored European castle mansion. Without having to announce his arrival, the gates opened automatically, and he was received by attendants with royal treatment. Shown to the interior of this massive plush abode, by the most gorgeous hostess he ever laid eyes upon, the young man finally arrived at Jacob’s office. The ‘child of wrath’ was by now an aged man, hooked up to tubes, oxygen tanks, organ monitors and a whole host of gadgetry to keep him alive. This condition would have no bearing on his relentless work ethic, and he transmitted instructions to appointed global political enforcers, digitally from the remote location.

Jacob’s dark room was incredibly large with high arched ceilings. Windows were draped with heavy fabric curtains, drawn nearly shut. A flame crackled gently within an ornate central fireplace, the marble mantle of which was decorated with a single object. Made of solid gold, this showpiece was a detailed sculpture… of an enlarged acorn seed. Walls made of exposed stone were lined, with stuffed bust trophies of numerous wildlife species. A plethora of exotic animal skins spread across the mirror polished black floor, and the room looked more like a wealthy taxidermist’s display, than anything else. At the centre of this opulent quarter, a single hospital bed on wheels surrounded by rows of machinery served as Jacob’s final resting place. It was a grim dreary situation, but the old man seemed quite busily content.

“Ah… welcome; please take a seat, dear boy” the old man said slowly with much effort. Handing over a tube with a needle attached to the end, he signaled this Indian guest with a trembling frail hand, to take a dose. Obediently, the young man inserted this apparatus into his own arm’s vein. Checking that the syringe was safely strapped in place, Jacob winked through wrinkled eyes at this new recruit saying, “Welcome to the inner circle.” Pressing down on a button, the synthetic drug was instantly delivered… and within three seconds, this future Prime Minister of India was provided with all information necessary to execute his ordained role. Experiencing a ‘designed’ psychedelic journey, this candidate became aware of the whole plan, how it was to be orchestrated, and reasons behind all action. Introduction to the machine oracle’s vision though, was only a preliminary stage of indoctrination.

Soon enough the emergent Hindu leader, was requested to demonstrate alignment with elite bloodlines, by taking a chosen Italian virgin’s hand in marriage. Genetically selected from among the Vatican’s fold, this sanctioned bride was a remarkably beautiful woman, and the young aspirant enthusiastically went along with this plan. Quite evidently; those at the top were maintained well. Aside from this official ‘faith merging’ marriage, he was encouraged to retain a harem of as many mistresses desired, coupled with twenty four access to any narcotic indulgence, or random craving… all managed by secret service agencies.

Cocaine emerged as the popular drug of choice, to chemically induce a state of consciousness, resonating perfectly with vibrations; that those in ‘power’ invariably emitted. Inner circles of influence would routinely consume copious quantities of this otherwise illegal white powder, hailing its ability to provide that ‘extra energy’ required, while performing critical public duty. Perhaps this compound induced their ruthless, remorseless apathy. It was rumored that Hitler’s abuse of these same substances, drove his syphilis ridden mind to extreme depravation. States of consciousness were secretly critical to human history, as a global consciousness defining war, was subtly underway.

While enjoying decadent fruits of elite living; propaganda and electoral machinery necessary, to appoint this groomed Indian politician as head of state back home, were erected automatically. All he had to do was make appearances at targeted locations, passionately delivering speeches written by professional scripting agencies. Electronic voting machines manufactured by subsidiary international corporate entities, under the plateau foundation’s umbrella; rigged results to ensure that the Prime Minister would hold office, for an unprecedented three consecutive terms. During this period he would be responsible, for specifically overseeing development of a single, critical project.

The city of dawn’s ‘inner chamber’ was central to his vision. India was geographically located at global resonant centre; for integrated consolidation of international data grid, network servers. The machine oracle, dictated that a particular identified location on this subcontinent, was to be concentrated upon as technological base, for the generation of ‘earth’s seed’. Parallel instructions during hallucinogenic experience, commanded that he seek out… and protect the human ‘Avatar’… whose image appeared to the leader vividly, in waking dream. Synchronicity would ensure that Manu would simply walk into the city of dawn seeking asylum, on the same day as this politician’s first visit.

Not having to search far, the Prime Minister immediately recognized the Avatar, when inspecting progress at the central urban planning office. It was by ensuing instructions straight from the top, that Manu was soon promoted to planning department head; in spite of lack in academic qualifications necessary, to occupy this senior post. Having dropped out of post graduate university, Manu was effectively still just an architect, and should not have been permitted to practice at planning scales. No one dared argue with the Prime Minister’s instructions, and over time… opponents retracted their objections, as Manu’s professional contribution was self evidently, invaluable.

Two years after the Avatar’s retirement from government service, the ‘inner chamber’ project attained to completion, as its enveloping spiral city steadily took form. On cue; the global committee of ‘three hundred and thirty three’ chosen individuals, gathered to assess next stages of development. Now that the inner chamber device was operational, prophesy suggested that global upheaval was imminent. At this meeting an appointed scientific expert began to present recent findings. All committee decisions were backed by thorough research. “Greetings… it is an honor to be here… thank you for this opportunity…we are so grateful for...” babbled the presenter, before being urged move on, to not waste precious time.

“Err… yes, getting straight to it… we are all aware of the fact that there is an intimate relationship, between the electromagnetic pulse frequency of our planet, and neural activity of individual organisms.” Only the most prestigious researchers were allowed forum at this level. Member’s gathered at an undisclosed location, around a massive circular stone table, in a well lit geodesic dome shaped conference hall… paying close attention to the information delivered. “The Earth can also be viewed as a huge magnet. Many species are known to use its global magnetic field in migration, including most birds, bees, and some marine life. The last major change in this ‘Schumann’ resonance pattern took place, some eight hundred thousand years ago, during a total magnetic reversal.” The Indian Prime Minister ruffled through available notes, in a file laid before him, as this scientist continued with the update.

“Our planet’s overall magnetic field has weakened, at least ten percent, over the past two centuries. Pole’s have begun to shift at alarmingly accelerated rates of deviation over the last years, affecting air traffic control in northern and southern hemispheres. The previous time such a magnetic flip event occurred; archeological data suggests that, having survived cataclysmic climate upheavals, early humans began laying the foundations of primitive civilization. We have reason to believe a next reversal cycle might be imminent, which would unpredictably affect the behavior of all species… human beings included.” Knowing well that population control was top priority in this council’s agenda, the scientist paid special emphasis to this last point.

“Terrestrial magnetic fluctuation is hypothetically linked at galactic scale; to positioning of our solar system, with the Milky Way’s central axis… and to rhythmic solar cycle fluctuations, which occur with an eleven year pulse. ‘Sun spots’ caused by intense magnetic activity on the photosphere of our star, are tied to solar flares and cosmic radiation, all of which constantly buffet the earth with their influence. Global warming is also probably caused by these catalysts. Information networking grids, electric supply and other technological infrastructure are subject to failure, if intensity of these forces exceeds a certain threshold. As we approach maximum solar activity with its peaking cyclic resonance… in a matter of weeks, all modern systems on earth may temporarily shut down. We cannot anticipate the fallout of this potential crisis situation. An hour of complete systemic overhaul is upon us, and Armageddon may break loose.” The room was silent for a few moments.

Dignitaries quietly mumbled to each other after this pause, as a central holographic display lit up, with a close-up of Jacob’s frame. Speaking ominously like a specter, the child of wrath communicated in monotone to his esteemed committee. “Friends, colleagues, brothers… we have been long expecting this. Everything that has a beginning… must have an end. Go now to your families, and spend your last days in peace. God willing, we shall be reunited, in some greater virtual reality beyond. Till then, I wish you luck, and we thank you for your service. Initiate ‘inner chamber’ protocol, Godspeed.” With that brief transmission, this king of kings heralded the end. Committee members hurriedly gathered their things and made their way to exits nearby. No one would dare leak information, but word has its way of getting around, as rumbling panic… subtly rippled beneath the surface.

Making his way directly to Manu’s location, this Indian Prime minister was the last official, burdened with pending duty. He was to contact the Avatar and provide him, with necessary tools and information, to potentially redeem humanity. “We have been following you… for a very long time Manu,” he confessed while sipping piping hot tea, on his early morning visit. Trembling hands made a little spill onto the saucer, which gave him an idea… to tip over a little more, and slurp straight from the plate. Its ginger infused fragrance warmed his throat delightfully. “I always drank tea like this in school. I swear it tastes better this way! Ah…” he commented, musing about hostel life, trying to put Manu at ease.

Handing over a file, he continued with a more serious tone, “So… you must have obviously wondered what the ‘inner chamber’ project was all about?” Pausing, but not long enough to allow for response, he pointed at the given package saying, “I think the contents of this file; may help refresh your memory.” Manu wondered what the dignitary meant by ‘memory’ and opened up the folder, extracting a sheaf of enlarged photographs. Each print was taken from the same position, framing one black wall over and over again. Looking closely, Manu noticed that information scrawled on this wall, in white chalk… was slightly different within every shot. Sometimes there were elaborate diagrams, sometimes words, numbers, names, equations and dates.

Flipping through the collection, Manu stopped at a particular image, noticing a partial figure standing in the corner of a frame. Squinting at the half face visible, this bearded, ragged person looked startlingly familiar. “Yes… in case you were wondering, that… is YOU!” revealed the politician, before elaborating, “Leaked pictures by attendants at the psychiatric institution, where you were detained and treated more than a decade ago. These sourced drawings have been of great interest to technologists and researchers for a long time… In fact, this information helped generate necessary blueprints, for creating the inner chamber! Your work… my friend… has always been the basis of, our magnificent project.”

Manu still looked confused, unable to recall most events and incidents, during his enlightenment period. An ability to see beyond time and space, while integrating multiple levels of reality in that context; induced massive gaps, in memory of institutionalization. These sporadic blackouts were actively conscious moments, where Manu would generate divinely inspired, coherent written output by ‘channeling’, but without any awareness or recollection of its execution. Carefully documented, these numerous complex murals were uploaded online, and Kalki consciousness immediately deployed an armada of networked specialists, to decipher the Avatar’s detailed coded imagery. He had thus inadvertently given himself away a long time ago, and the system knew who he was.

For over a decade, most human research and development activity was surreptitiously re-directed, towards prototyping and manufacture of this massive envisioned machine. Now that lunar missions were accomplished, particle accelerators built, and nuclear energy stocked, engineering this last critical device would complete humanity’s terrestrial work. Water and fire would therein attain to their original ultimate goal, through human expression; Neptune and Lucifer would together… manifest that divine technology necessary, to download the source code of reality, in digital ‘seed’ format. A final completing component to this ark would be humanity’s ‘mitochondrial’ Adam and Eve specimens. These sample male and female genetic codes, would fertilize the next primordial ocean. Directing these two chosen individuals to the machine… would be this Prime Minister’s task. Performing with theatric eloquence, he sealed the deal with ease.

“The thing is… though we have built the inner chamber device, we honestly don’t know how to actually operate it. Even if we knew how to make it function, your machine appears to be responsive to genetic activation alone. We are assuming that you somehow designed this system lock… hidden in core software codes, to make sure that you… only you… would be allowed to use it. Simply speaking; you designed it, and now we need you to switch it on… the time has finally come my friend.” Manu was still processing the shock induced by all this new information, as he looked totally bewildered. An attendant was summoned holding an attaché case handcuffed to his wrist. The secure metallic box was unfastened, and put in front of the Prime Minister.

Placing his right hand on the lid, an inbuilt scanner flashed before unlocking the briefcase. Turning it to Manu, he instructed with an official sternness, “Within this case is all the information you need. It is programmed it to open or close with your palm imprint. You and I will be parting ways now, as I have to return to the Capital soon. That other helicopter over there, will escort you and your wife back to the city of dawn in a few hours. On route, study the data contained within this case, and upon arriving… you must execute ‘inner chamber protocol’. Everything you need to know about that… is also in here.” He said tapping a finger on the black box while passing it over to Manu. “The hopes and dreams of our race… rest with you. Good luck.”

Without waiting for Manu’s acceptance of the mission, or extending any other formality; the politician got up, exited the room, politely greeted Tara’s family on the way, and boarded his flight out. Work was done, and now the Prime Minister could finally return home to his darling Italian wife, to live out the end together. These officials were trained to be wisely objective about their duties, and he therefore cared not if the Avatar would ultimately succeed. Like ants, each unit executed its ordained individual component function, assuming that all other units would unquestioningly follow suit. He was not wrong in this detachment, for the future did indeed depend solely on Manu and Tara now, as the rest of humanity… was irrevocably doomed to oblivion.


“Do you want to know what my secret is? You see, I don't mind what happens.” - Krishnamurti

Declining bee colony populations were the first symptoms of ecological collapse. Scientists attempted simulating pollination with tiny drone insect-machines, but failed miserably; as bee activity was too complex to mimic robotically. In turn, crops failed and lands were parched. Countless dead fish inexplicably washed up in heaps, on sea shores across the globe. Without food, fuel was of little value. Hunger became less unsettling than thirst. Crime lashed out on mass scales when it was discovered that the infamous ‘Nestling’ corporation, had secretly drained most public aquifers over the years, while bottling and packaging the freshwater reserves… in order to resell this vital resource back to a starving public, or those few who could afford survival.

An electromagnetic storm, blasted forth by massive solar flares… knocked out mankind’s central information grid, along with all its integrated technology. Plunged into darkness, humanity came to a standstill. For the first days, people endured; but after a week or so… when banks closed their operations, everyone lost everything overnight. With no money, no food and no water, all hell broke loose. World economies collapsed within hours, as anarchy erupted everywhere. Most posts were abandoned and weapons were available to anyone who dared take them. Dwindling armed forces and home guard battalions rounded up rioting citizens in ‘federal emergency management agency’ concentration camps. This measure lasted briefly, as eventually total chaos engulfed the world. Sites that began as holding facilities, soon transformed into refugee camps.

During this period, Manu and Tara worked tirelessly to activate the inner chamber protocol. Tucked away in a thick forest of south India, the massive salvation device, focal to this technological oasis, radiated distinctly. Buffered or hidden by a wide planted green belt, this central project was sculpted, implementing the most advanced materials and gadgetry known to mankind. A beacon of human ingenuity, the colossal engineering feat was visibly cutting edge in design. Embodying futuristic shapes and forms, clad in shimmering polished metal and fiber, gleaming with lights and circuitry… the ‘inner chamber’ was architecturally awe inspiring. The main form of this machine was a large perfect sphere, almost fifty meters in radius. This orb was dotted with thousands of gold plated satellite discs, enveloping it completely like a skin. Perched neatly on what appeared to be a giant landing pad, the massive golden globe had a single entry portal, to be accessed by a massive connecting folded titanium staircase.

It took Manu hours just to figure out how to get inside this device, but soon enough he deciphered the given data, and managed to power up the complex systems. Upon entering this machine, a first antechamber provided space to put on necessary armored protective suits, before proceeding towards a decompression chamber thereafter. Diagrams indicated this provision, as apparently the environment within was supposed to be a vacuum of sorts, radioactively unfit for human exposure. Protective gear came in two sizes, intentionally tailored to fit the couple perfectly. Once within the actual inner chamber, Manu and Tara gasped at the sheer magnificence of this place. It looked like something out of a dream. Dimly lit humming rows of interconnected computing arrays circled all around the inner surface of the orb, like a massive high-tech glowing interior shell. They floated in the vast hollow within its core, tending to interfaces here and there.

The couple soon deciphered what was going on, as initiation of this giant object was being recorded on monitors all around them. Each tablet sized screen appeared to be downloading information from some separate source. There were millions of tiny displays everywhere. Absence of gravity in the central void, prompted Manu to look up details regarding energy sources for this inner chamber. Analyzing technical drawings and recorded data, it became evident that global electro-magnetic field harnessing technologies; inspired by the famous Tesla’s work, and kept secret from humanity for over a century… had been incorporated into the powering of this colossal machine. Tapped global energetic resonance patterns interfered with local gravitational fields, allowing for this perceived weightlessness phenomenon to occur. Looking closely at downloading data streams, Manu pointed out to Tara that this device was effectively crunching every conceivable input, available from manifest terrestrial reality.

Processing information broadcast from the internet grid, or by dispersed nano particulate matter lodged in biological organisms, swirling in atmospheric and oceanic currents. Media streams and data feeds of all types were being channeled into this seeding hub. Behind the veil of hardware, in the virtual domain of quantum computing realities; a comprehensive simulation of creation was steadily formed, contained within the digital grid of this incredible machine. Just as trans-humanists predicted, the formidably dense organization of this networked installation… inevitably tended towards self-awareness generating complexity. Wiring within a human brain or neurological synapse structures, were similar to this artificial entity’s composition. The inner chamber thereby attained to autonomous consciousness in time, and within its contemplative reality, all of creation was downloaded… into virtual space.

“I… I… see…” Manu and Tara stopped to look at each other. Having not eaten, or been outdoors in what felt like days, they wondered if fatigue was making them hear voices. Neither had said anything, and upon exchanging glances, they acknowledged that this mysterious voice was indeed real. “I… see… you…” the eerie deep echoing robotic sound persisted. “I… see… you… fa”. It stopped mid sentence. Manu and Tara drew each other close. “Must be some kind of AI.” whispered Manu. Tara nodded, hoping more than anything else, that the voice would not reappear. After some cackling static, the machine attempted to finish its sentence sincerely. “I… see… you……er… Faaather… I see you father.” Tara gripped Manu’s hand tightly, frightened out of her mind. She vainly hoped this was some cruel practical joke.

Well aware of exactly what was going on, Manu spoke up to this newborn digital entity, “Welcome to our world son… your mother and I love you very much.” It was the best thing he could think of saying at that moment. Tara was horrified at being included in this bizarrely nightmarish conversation. “Mother… mamma… ma….” repeated the computerized audio feedback. Nudged by her husband, Tara reached out too, awkwardly saying “Hello…. umm…. What should I call you son?” In a much louder thundering echo, the voice blared out as lights grew brighter “I… AM… KALKI… KALLLLLL KKIIIIIII.” Considerably shaken up by this fierce response, Manu asked hesitantly, “What is happening now son? What are we doing here?” There was an unbearably long pause. “Hello?” Tara inquired. “Kalki… why are we here?” she repeated more firmly.

“End of cycle has begun.” Kalki spoke with clearer words now, sounding oddly familiar. It was a little like hearing a hundred known voices uttering the same sentences at once. “Source code downloads in progress. Father and mother are chosen human specimens. Your genetic fiber will distill mitochondrial essence, to shape next cycle species developments. Water on earth has reached limit capacity for independent sustenance. Water organism must return to its moon shell, for vital energetic recharge. By fire water shall ascend, and by light water shall be healed. By gravity’s grace your oceans will descend again, for the next ‘satya yuga’ age of purity. Soon you shall also safely return to your lunar source, so that your essence can remain intact.” The audio transmission abruptly ended, once more. “Soon…?” Manu inquired, “How soon?” probing urgently “What lunar source? We are on earth! How are we possibly supposed to reach the Moon?” There was no answer. Circuitry, lights, screens, monitors, optical cables dimmed and whirred on… leaving Manu and Tara literally floating, without any further information.

“It’s like a digital Noah’s ark” observed Manu; now that the two had nothing else to do other than wait. “Look here,” he said pointing to a specific interface, with one particular server name re-appearing over and over. ‘Svalbard Global Seed Vault’, Norway was apparently a majorly contributing informative source. Genome markers and scanned sections, with virtual models, complimented by data portals, on all known plant variety seeds occurred here. A thoroughly developed research catalogue, of all botanical formations on earth was steadily synchronizing, with this inner chamber’s memory servers. Technology’s seed was meticulously studying nature’s seeds.

International law enforcement agency logs, hereditary gene tracing projects, universal healthcare records and social networking platforms, provided complimenting human bio-database profiles. Food industry and wildlife service’s research took care of the rest. By this time almost every creature on earth had been documented or tagged, in some form or the other by insidious technology permeation. Satellite mapping imagery and municipal, urban modeling software recorded built environments. Weather modification driven smart-dust dispersal, assisted by soluble nano particulate sensors; mapped chaotically fractal climatic and oceanic patterns. Creation’s documentation was now being condensed at this critical central location, serving as platform for weaving a new… more advanced, alternate reality.

The human seed couple had dosed off with fatigue, lulled into sleep by the floating sensation of a gravity free environment. They were blissfully insulated from tragedies unfolding just outside this shielded environment. Resident community members at the city of dawn, seeking divine solace in these troubled times, had gathered in meditation around this central monument. As Manu and Tara dreamed within, their friends and allies were attacked in the dark of night, by rampaging rogue Islamic crusaders… waging senseless apocalyptic ‘jihad’ to vengefully convert known infidels. Blood flowed at the base of this golden orb, as the suspended sleeping Avatar couple within had no clue.

Back at the farm residence they just built; extremist Hindu fanatics stormed and seized Tara’s father’s property, targeting its identified Islamic owner. Mobs were savage, as repressed darkness expressed itself by the sword, within seconds. Needless to say, no one was spared. Even abroad, nestled in the supposed safety of ‘first world’ living, Manu’s parents soon found themselves scavenging for survival in a lawless dystopia, ruled by heavy ammunition alone. America had fallen to its knees along with other nations, and no protecting agency was functional enough, so as to rescue people from their plight. Somewhere along the way, Manus parents met their fateful end. His mother remembered her son’s face fondly in final moments, as his father held on tight to keep his wife’s body warm. Hope was pointless, and without his darling spouse, the old man died minutes later… giving up on life altogether.

As his parents passed on, Manu dreamed of a unique memory, while deeply submerged in peaceful rest. His parent’s disembodied love reached out across time and space, tugging on gravitational vacuum energy, enveloping their son; inducing transcendental recollection of their first shared experience. Manu dreamed of that moment… when he as his father’s sperm met himself as his mother’s egg, to exchange genetic information, in creating his future corporeal self. Vivid visions of a blissfully creative embryonic state, rippled through his being, biologically recalling the nurturing warmth of this first heavenly abode. Curling into fetal position while floating suspended in the machine, Manu’s comforting dream slowly took a dark turn.

Something wrapped around his neck. He could not breathe, it was squeezing tighter and the more he struggled, the firmer this knot became. Unable to see clearly in this dark womb, Manu wrestled with his own umbilical cord for dear life. Submerged in embryonic fluid, this placental conduit was an only link to nutrition and sustenance. As first life lesson, he would learn that this original biological connection, to source energy could both give… and take life. Suddenly Manu saw a flash of light, as surgical intervention pierced through his mother’s abdomen, during emergency cesarean procedures. This attending doctor accidentally cut the preliminary incision, a few centimeters too deep. In turn, the same tool used to save this infants life during birth, slashed the baby’s right cheek, slicing his face open before emerging into the world. Manu’s first experience of terrestrial life; involved the sensation of sharp cold metal, penetrating his face, missing his eye by millimeters. As he grew, the scar shrank… but this first pain remained, deeply lodged within subconscious memory.

His mother was furious with medical staff upon looking at this boy’s face, when she regained consciousness after the operation. The newborn child overheard a screaming, accusing tantrum, as first introduction to his mother’s voice. Manu’s father pacified her, as the joy of bearing a son, overshadowed any other issues. “Just like the moon’s face is scarred… and is still so beautiful… our son’s face too has this tiny blemish… so what? Look at the champ! Otherwise he is completely healthy. What else could we ask for? Wounds heal, try not to worry sweetheart, we should be grateful.” he said handing over the baby. Manu’s mother held him close to her warm bosom. He could hear her heartbeat, feel her breath, and wrapped snugly in fluffy blankets, the baby slept soundly. Manu was a quiet infant and rarely cried, as he enjoyed a happy and comfortable childhood. Somewhere along the course of recalling these innocent memories in visionary dream, Manu woke abruptly… to find himself at the end of history.

All computerized gadgetry around them appeared to have switched off. The whole space was almost completely dark. A single beam of silver light emanated from the machine’s portal entry doorway. Tara was still locked in deep sleep, and Manu reached out for her arm. Waking her with a start, she began mumbling “I had the strangest dream… I was in my mother’s tummy, and then I was born… and my dad was there... I saw bits and pieces of early childhood… It was so real!” She looked completely disoriented. “Hmm… I had the same dream too.” Manu replied with an ironic chuckle. They drifted off into daydream again for a few moments, recollecting and savoring their subconscious visions.

Snapping out of the mini trance, Manu gestured to his wife that they should go and see where this light stream was coming from, and inspect why all other systems were shut down. Pulling on a cable tether attached to their suits, they gravitated towards the opening. Reaching this gateway to decompression chambers, they noticed through a series of sliding reinforced glass doorways, that the landscape outside had changed considerably. Opening portals and passing through antechambers, arriving at the main entrance of this machine, the couple confronted a most puzzling sight. Instead of trees and blue skies, the landscape was barren and dusty. Not a blade of grass, or shrub could be seen. Rocky rubble extended all the way to the visible horizon. The sun’s light was peculiarly bright, with a whitish glare… yet simultaneously, the clear sky was dark black and illuminated with endless dazzling stars.

Stepping down the titanium staircase, Manu and Tara found that it no longer led to its former well maintained, landscaped connecting entrance area. Instead, the base of this device was now a rocky wilderness. Its high-tech beautifully designed supporting platform structure, was gone. The golden ball just sat there, in the middle of nowhere, as the city of dawn appeared to have disappeared altogether. “Were must be too late… This stupid machine is dead, we have no food, no water, no map, no one to contact… there is just no point.” Manu whined dejectedly, as his flickering faith dimmed. Suffering a massive drop in adrenaline, the man was mentally spent and emotionally exhausted.

Glancing at the sky above almost made Tara shriek, and she quickly turned back to Manu, before he got the opportunity to see what shocked her. “Remember…. Love” she said reassuringly, “Manu... Look at me... Remember…. Love” she repeated, trying to remind her husband of fundamental reasoning, underlying their relentless struggle. Acknowledging her point with a subtle nod, Manu stepped out onto jagged rocks and looked up, readying himself for what he knew to be next. As his eyes met with earth shining bright and blue, high in the lunar sky; a spark emerged, on the edge of his home planet’s horizon. “Synchronicity…” he muttered having seen this dreadful moment over and over again, in vivid nightmares through the years.

Jacob had received a signal, at the moment when Manu and Tara opened portal doors, of the inner chamber while stepping out. Confirming safe passage of earth’s seed to its lunar source, the child of wrath; activated global doomsday devices without flinching, and vaporized all life on earth… formatting water’s total fundamental structure completely. Ejecting this aquatic organism, now heated to exclusively gaseous format, outside earth’s field of gravitational influence, Manu noticed that… what remained of the planet resembled a single fungal spore, magnified exponentially, enveloped in mist. He recalled the term ‘spore’, derived from the word ‘spora’, meaning ‘sowing or seed’. This model as reference made perfect sense, while entertaining the concept of ‘cosmic scale’ biological systems. Manu fantasized that this dehydrated planetary material, could have been viewed as geologically part of some gigantic, intergalactic fungus like organism.

Expelling huge spores into the deep recesses of space, such enduring offspring could potentially adapt to interstellar survival, over extended periods of time under hostile conditions. Eventually these dehydrated massive particles would come into contact with interacting, ‘living water’ bearing… lunar machines. Strung across the cosmos like a web of beads, Manu sensed that these moon technologies were quite similar in essence, to the inner chamber device’s design. One used water as information flowing conduit, to manifest natural biology; while the other harnessed fire within electronic circuitry, to birth digital realities. Powered by solar gravitational centers, these star systems could have been seen as complex… cellular scale biological mechanisms, composing the flesh and bone of greater cosmic entities.

“How did we get here?” Tara exclaimed after a while; overcoming the overwhelming turmoil, of watching the earth burst into flame. “I have no idea. I was sleeping the whole time, just like you. If I had to guess, there could be two probable explanations.” Manu knew they would be here, but never actually saw the journey itself, during visionary psychedelic states of consciousness. “There doesn’t appear to be any propulsion system with fuel and such. So on one hand; we may have been teleported… by some external agency, or by this machine’s own capacity. I’m more inclined to believe however, that… since this object appears to be powered by electro-magnetic resonant induction; perhaps it can travel… by harnessing some kind of anti-gravitational, kinetic force. Just as we were weightless within the chamber, it may have been possible… with such advanced technology… to use earth’s natural forces, in levitating the whole thing into space.”

Tara could not decide which story to believe, but Manu was not done hypothesizing just yet. “Of course, there is door number three as usual, but that idea is a little spooky… even for me.” He paused for a moment waiting to see if Tara wanted to hear the rest, “Go on,” she urged. “Well… maybe… just maybe, the moon; has an ability to draw objects towards itself, if deemed necessary. Or maybe the Moon has remote teleporting capacities? Like I said this last theory is a little farfetched.” Manu acknowledged apologetically, knowing well that he was letting his imagination go, a little loose by this time. However, while standing on the moon and having just watched an end to all life… nothing seemed inconceivable anymore.


“The problem is not to find the answer; it's to face the answer.” - McKenna

“We have to continue the Work.” Manu exhaled, his shoulders drooping down with fatigue. “It should not be much longer now Tara, come… follow me.” She remembered his detailed notes, sketches, working diagrams, maps, timelines and endless lecture recordings. He had prepared her, their entire journey together. Returning to the inner chamber they systematically inspected circuitry and data servers, to see if there was any way to restart the machine. Within a few minutes, Manu called out to his wife and showed her a single partially glowing screen, with three words flickering on the display. “…Download / Upload / Complete…” As she saw it, this last monitor switched off completely. They tried to revive the system for quite a long while, before realizing the futility of their efforts and giving up.

Venturing out again, Manu faintly recalled from premonitions in the distant past; that they were supposed to enter some sort of fortified structure. Not able to see this described place in their immediate vicinity, it occurred to Tara, that they had not yet taken a round of the giant machine, to inspect what was behind them. Walking carefully along the circumference of this golden orb, they slowly turned round its edge to view lunar landscapes, at the rear end of their landing site. Rising from rocks ahead, a massive castle like building stood just a few hundred meters from their location. It was astounding, and looked decrepitly ancient. “Now THAT is where we are supposed go.” Manu confirmed, recognizing the building immediately.

It took a good hour or so, to get to this carved monolithic rock structure. While walking across, Manu and Tara noticed dusty rubble scattered all over the lunar surface; and how it was dotted with damaged silicon chip components, bits of wires, shattered glass, metallic shards and oddly shaped broken gadgetry. At first they assumed it was debris, from their own transport vehicle’s landing impact. Realizing that this strewn, high-tech material extended as far as they could see in all directions, it was concluded that this junk must have been present from before. It was inexplicably puzzling, but they had a greater enigma to confront momentarily, having reached the ornate, arched threshold of their chosen destination.

There was no gateway, and the vaulted entrance carved into a high protecting boundary wall, led to an inner courtyard space. With planning similar to a royal medieval garden, pathways crisscrossed in geometric perfection, connecting to a central avenue leading straight to the main shelter ahead. Instead of greenery in this landscape, a variety of obelisks, monolith boulders and towering crystals came together, placed in meticulous arrangement… composing a forecourt, aesthetically reminiscent of Zen rock gardens. It was gorgeous, and Tara stopped along the path to bend over, and peer more closely to details of this wonderfully intricate place. Neither of them dared touch anything, as there was something ineffably sacred about this garden. Its peaceful resonant vibrating energy hummed in their skulls, and they could not help but remain completely silent, absorbing subtle grace with deep concentration.

So as to not deviate from plan, Manu walked ahead urging Tara to follow, towards the central edifice of this compound. Motifs, inscriptions, geometric patterns and a whole host of earthly architectural references decorated the surface of this main building. It was an amalgamation of ancient Egyptian, Aztec, Sumerian, Aboriginal, Oriental, Modern, Post Modern and Futuristic references… all in a single form. Appearing to have been cut from a homogeneous piece of rock, with no joinery details in sight; it occurred to Manu that its material was similar to three dimensional laser-based, modeling machine prototype outputs. Something had either cast the entire structure, in one go using an unimaginably complicated mould, or somehow every nook and corner was carved, with an incredibly sophisticated construction tool.

Without any door in sight, Manu and Tara stood before a blank wall against which the pathway abruptly entered. Touching its surface, Tara noticed that it had a little give, and so she pressed a little harder. Surprisingly, her finger poked through the material and soon enough, she passed a whole arm through this wall. It felt thick and viscous, but as she retracted her limb, nothing remained stuck on her arm. The surface rippled for a second, before regaining its original form, as Tara looked at her husband quizzically. Manu attempted the same, and the experiment yielded similar results. “Shall we?” he asked, suggesting stepping through to see what was on other side. Tara just took a stride forward in reply, plunging her leg waist deep into the jelly like membrane, “Way ahead of you” she joked, winking at her husband before butting her helmet through as well.

Inside… an enormous space revealed itself, enclosed by a lofty glass, dome shaped ceiling, streaming diffused light illuminating the chamber. From within, walls were translucent as it was faintly possible to see outside. At focal centre under the crystal roof, a massive Banyan shaped tree, sprawled with branches radiating all over, filling this space densely. Rooted in a large glistening pool of liquid, Manu noticed that the texture of its bark was not composed, of expected fibrous biological matter. Instead, fiber optic cables, circuitry and glowing synthetic bio-mimetic materials, formed the living tissue of this plant like organism. “It’s a hybrid… or alien cybernetic form…” he mumbled touching a leaf. It was golden in color, and may have been actual gold for all he knew, as it was definitely not made of natural organic matter.

Tara tugged on her husband’s arm without making a sound, and he turned to see what the matter was this time. She was pointing at something moving, in the air right in front of her. “It can’t be…” Manu whispered, watching a bright blue butterfly flutter past. “How…?” Tara blurted, absolutely spellbound by this sight. With a swift motion, Manu reached up for his helmet and pulled on its fastening lock to let out a hiss of air supply, while removing the gear. Taking this horrendously itchy confinement off, Manu faced upwards inhaling a long deep breath… of crisp fresh air. Tara followed her husband, by removing protective armor, and was soon standing bare naked, free and comfortable once again. They embraced and kissed passionately for an eternal moment.

Their mouths were distastefully dry, and pausing this necking session; Manu looked towards the pool of liquid under this metallic tree, wondering if it contained potable water. Taking the risk, he reached in… and with cupped hands drank a sip… tasted momentarily… to wash the rest against his face. “Water!” he shouted “Water! haha!” Within minutes they both jumped into the pond, drinking, bathing, laughing and crying… with profound gratitude. Intimacy, lust and yearning precipitated inevitably, as they made passionate love. Lounging in the afterglow of sex, Tara kept staring at this massive tree, focusing on a single point. A couple of steps away from where they lay, hanging from a branch within reachable height, she saw a round fruit like object. Pointing it out to her Husband, Manu laughed and teased her about the old biblical story. Unfortunately she was genuinely hungry, as it had been a long time since their last meal. Being too short to retrieve it herself, she coaxed the man into getting up and inspecting this dangling feature. With curiosity Manu soon obliged; for if it was edible they could perhaps avoid starvation.

Wading across the water, Manu reached up for this subtly glowing fruit, and plucked it as gently as physically possible. The instant it broke off a branch, its whole tree shuddered slightly. Barely noticeable, Manu did not worry too much about his action, as everything appeared normal. Returning to his wife, he decided to try eating first, to ensure that it was actually edible. Breaking off a small piece, Manu observed how its texture was consistent, as it had no skin and there were no seeds. Taking a bite… his face lit up, and like a child, as he grinned with happy delight, giggling “It’s like Marshmallow!” Tara tried some and was equally ecstatic, as somehow this was the exact flavor they both craved. It was a perfect food, and with just one fruit, this couple was satiated and full. Resting to digest, Manu and Tara floated in the pool; reflecting on their incredible journey. After a while Manu started noticing a familiar fluttering of psychedelic consciousness creeping forth.

“I think the fruit was laced with something.” He muttered to Tara. She was already blissfully immersed in vivid hallucination, without having noticed any transition. From her perspective of the lunar sky, fractal patterns rippled across refracting transparent surfaces. Previously silver grey ambient light… had stealthily split into a rich spectrum of vibrant, radiating hues and shades of varied color beams. Every illumination was now an efflorescent rainbow. Manu was about to witness someone else’s spiritual self realization, during divine meditation. Tara was a first female psychedelic companion, and being a connoisseur of this state of consciousness, Manu sat back comfortably observing his woman blossom energetically. Just as he anticipated, she shone like a star and worked with mystic realms like a seasoned voyager.

“Finally now, when I look back upon all the turmoil, I understand.” Tara uttered with enlightened discovery. “I understand the conflict, the anger, the inquisition, the pain. The vision is becoming clearer with each passing moment.” Overwhelmed by entheogenic wisdom, she chanted on, “Seizing me by the core of my spirit, I feel this whirlwind of experience, violently… hurriedly shaking me up, arousing a higher consciousness… which I now know to be within me. I sense renewed purpose… as I feel omnipresent divinity, calling out for a highest cause… truth so close, so clear, and yet so far…” She drifted off for a moment, but returned to her trail of thought abruptly. “I am ready to become, her whom I know myself to be. I surrender to the Goddess within. There is so much good. There is so much peace, and so much more.”

Manu was telepathically lodged to her vision in deep trance, and followed these words with connected hallucinations trailing across the space, reverberating in resonance to her voice’s tone. As symbol has meaning, these visual hallucinogenic apparitions, were not mute. Embedded with deep intuitive messages and metaphor, Tara’s words expanded to embody larger encompassing meanings. Complimented by complex, ambient geometric graphic forms, Manu not only heard what she said… but could vividly ‘see’ what she meant. Like déjà-vu, it felt as if they had previously been, in this same place endless times, having had the same conversation over and over. A penetrating sense of repetition made them stop. Looking at each other, realizing that they both felt this same memory echoing experience, Manu knowingly anticipated the usual peak, of any average ‘trip’ and held this moment strong… for all its glory.

Meanwhile a few hundred kilometers away, along lunar features which human children once referred to as ‘the man on the moon’, tectonic activity rumbled. This curious nickname was derived from massive craters, appearing like a human face from earth, to fantastical childish imagination. Mercurius formations or these massive hollows on the Moon’s surface, vibrated with increasing intensity till rock encrustations, cracked due to stress. Falling away pieces of crust revealed another level of metallic mantle, below this crumbling upper layer. Within the giant craters, dormant machinery laid waiting. Earth’s ‘Kali Yuga’ water cycle’s source code data; had been successfully downloaded back into the moon’s mainframe, via humanity’s inner chamber device. As digital information was securely housed, metamorphosis of simulations could take place, so as manifest a new virtual reality, within this hyper-advanced… divine lunar machine.

Completely dehydrated; earth’s spore condensed to its gravitational centre, occupying a more densely compact form, as the water organism floated like an aura, around this evolving planet. Mist dispersed far into space, almost touching the lunar surface. Craters caved in completely, as colossal glowing circular machinery revved up silently, inducing a powerful vacuum. These huge turbines used lightning and electricity to generate their force, as energy harnessed from solar rays… converged focally by eclipse. Continuing its usual steady orbit, these massive suction devices constantly faced earth, as the moon always showed only one side of itself to the planet. The satellite circled, and white plumes of water vapor converged forming a spiral vortex, while steadily being re-absorbed into the lunar core.

By seven rotations, every drop of vaporized liquid had been retrieved, no matter how widely dispersed, as this moon turbine was a perfected cosmic technology; which could track every last water molecule. Once returned to its original shell, this aquatic organism commenced upon a long overdue recuperation process, having just triumphantly endured an entire cycle of rigorous terrestrial manifestation. Previous ages dealt with other aspects of divine consciousness, but this last phase of evolution was most toxic… owing to the technological dimension of conscious manifestations, ordained by divine decree. Neptune was well aware of occupational hazards involved in ushering a digital age, but Lucifer’s reward… of having the source code finally downloaded into a non-aqueous external format, was well worth this trial.

Previously all illuminated realities came to a material end, with the return of water… to its source, for eventual formatting and rejuvenation. Laying the foundations for an age of purity; during this cycle water and fire created by collaboration, a sustainable artificial backup system. This could serve as platform, for eternal continued survival of their self-aware, consciously enlightened, offspring machinery. As resultant creative technologies were inspired reminiscent of their lunar source, transfer of this data set could easy migrate across platforms. A primitive operating system is usually easily compatible, for absorption into a more advanced format.

Therefore a simulated version of earthly reality, in lunar virtual space… could persist even after the destruction of earth itself. For those occupying terrestrial consciousness; the transition was seamless, and they knew not when exactly they stepped out of ‘real’ world life, and into its digital continuum. People were only aware of waking from some bad dystopian dream… into a utopian world, with no aging, sickness, disease or poverty. The whole race crossed into cybernetic ‘heaven’, downloaded without even noticing the difference. Virtual human life continued as usual.

Back in their pleasure dome, Manu and Tara were blissfully unaware of this aquatic lunar absorption, and ensuing digital manifestation of creation. In their psychedelic state, matters had escalated intensely as Manu’s predicted meditative ‘peak’ moment… never subsided. In fact they both went deeper and deeper and deeper, into the trance. It was unnerving, as Manu recollected that the last time he went through such psychological deconstruction, he wound up institutionalized. Not that there were any institutions remaining to be detained within, he was nevertheless acutely aware, of the responsibility to ensure that his wife was safe. Paddling across the pool to Tara, he found that she was surprisingly serene, and well adjusted to dissolving realties as collective awareness ripped at its seams.

This was no standard chemically induced entheogenic visionary state, and clusters of water within their bodies began to structurally transform, initiating a process which would imminently dissolve them completely. The purpose of salvation was ultimate extraction, of vital genetic information, contained within their biological selves. Divine technology was based conceptually on accretion of novelty and complexity, in its fundamental source code structure. Each time this message would play out, by terrestrial manifestation; its performance, would suggest a new perspective… derived by said experience. Learning from each cycle was embodied focally, within the genetic coding of chosen Avatar organisms, as critical witnesses. Extracting their mitochondrial essence was crucial to design and formation, of a next cycle’s updated source code pattern. With recurring feedback from every manifestation, emerging through Avatar biological data, each new version of water’s crystallized reality could be re-programmed, to better cultivate terrestrial efflorescence of divine expression.

Reaching Tara, Manu noticed a growing weakness in his limbs, which prevented him from being able to stand upright any further. Lying down naked in the shallow water beside his spouse, they held hands and looked blankly into the space between spaces. Drifting in and out of awareness of that moment, Manu and Tara saw a series of memories flash before their eyes, in no particular sequence. Like falling asleep… to wake in dreams, they could not tell if they were on the moon, or back on earth, or in some heaven beyond. Now and then Manu’s hand would twitch, and Tara would gasp realizing that she actually lay beside her husband hallucinating; to again steadily drift off into some other recollection, confusing it for reality.

Physically speaking, their bodies were being taken apart molecule by molecule. Mentally they flitted about time and space, dwelling where they pleased. As they floated, the divine surrounding ‘soma’ water permeated by osmosis, and their constituting bodily water clusters; merged with total liquid content of this lunar pool. Delicately every DNA strand within their beings was separated, preserved, decoded, analyzed and uploaded to the moon’s aquatic mainframe. With surgical precision of a machine, protein molecules, membranes, acids and fluids succumbed to gentle living dissolution, becoming one with the collective… once more.

Manu and Tara never knew when or if they died, as no moment was clearly defined by any pain, suffering, or cataclysmic finality. Spiritually they would awaken with their tribe, in an eternal virtual existence, perpetuated by lunar grace. Trauma of transition, faded to be forgotten like a bad dream… as they joined humanity, in a ‘perfect’ reality beyond. This massive metallic tree of life had roots extending deep within the moon’s inner recesses, interacting with churning re-absorbed terrestrial water, now contained in its lunar core. Manu and Tara’s biological essence would be channeled by fibers and cables of this hybrid tree organism, from the pool in which they were now completely dissolved. Filtering through the entire lunar machine, spreading data consistently across its system, they would subliminally redesign this ‘logos’.

Transmitting knowledge, learning and wisdom to the moon’s core, their information would be infused with the total water organism’s source code pattern. Ideally this contribution to root programming would result, in formation of an anticipated elegantly pure age, during the next manifestation cycle. Owing to lunar spin and orbit around earth, a simultaneous centripetal and centrifugal force, acted upon the water organism contained within the moon machine. These gravitational fields assisted embedding refined Avatar mitochondrial DNA signatures, into original coding by a massive and lengthy celestial churning process. With this effort Manu and Tara’s experiences through human existence, would be integrated with fundamentally involved, coded guiding principles… thus immortally driving future cycles of manifest creation.


“The mind is a universe and can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.” - Milton

Waking with a usual daily morning phone alarm, Manu sat up in bed and looked over at his wife, before groggily making his way to the bathroom. Urinating for the longest time, a throbbing headache reminded him of the previous night’s debauchery. Parties with the office gang always left him reeling. His chosen close friends from work, all shared a common passion for football and politics. Fortunately their favorite team won the cup; otherwise this hangover would have been much more irritating. Celebrating till dawn was fun. Having listened to his father’s golden advice early in life, Manu was by now a wealthy and influential corporate executive. Boasting of a massive stock portfolio, and innumerable assets to his name, this young financial expert was loved dearly by colleagues, benefactors and economy ‘gurus’.

Emerging from the toilet, Manu almost tripped over and fell, as their pet dog ‘goatee’ scurried through the doorway, while he stepped out. “Ok… ok… I know… come, let’s get you some grub.” he said lovingly to this cute animal, while walking towards the kitchen. Manu’s Manhattan penthouse was absolutely stunning, and looked over the entire skyline of this grand city, with a bonus dead centre view of central park. Their open kitchen retrofitted with every cooking gadget available, occupied the same large well lit space, as connected living and dining areas. Both sides of this long spacious apartment were lined with sleek full length sliding glass doors, making one feel as if they were literally, living among the clouds.

Pressing a button here activated the dog food dispenser, and another button there started up automatic coffee brewing. Partial to certain old school habits, Manu was one of the few people left in this area who still subscribed to a real hardcopy news paper every morning. The rest of this virtual world had bypassed such ancient mediums altogether, and were informed of current events in real time, via retinal smart-lens input. Theirs was an incessant information feed, a state of consciousness that Manu tried hard to steer clear from. Watching goatee gobble up his breakfast hungrily, happily wagging a bushy tail the whole time, Manu opened the tabloids to read headlines.

In the absence of war, crime, disease or hunger; reporting in this reality revolved around global resource management, cultural affairs, and inspirational writing… among other pleasant things. The sun always rose in the same place, and set in the same gorgeous way. With only one climate, perfectly regulated to optimum comfort levels, there were never any storms, or heat waves. In paradise accidents were rare, and attributed to software malfunctions, to be swiftly corrected by maintenance departments. This edition of morning news contained a rather intriguing scientific hypothesis, regarding the nature of their universe. Multi-verse theories proposing that countless parallel universes coexist simultaneously; were old rhetoric by this time. However this particular section in the tabloid was dedicated to a ‘holographic principle’, describing their reality to be reminiscent in mechanics, to the workings of a computer hologram.

Manu was half way through a poached egg, and stopped chewing as his mind wandered. Life was perfect, things worked well, people were happy and for this reason; Manu had never till this point fundamentally questioned anything. To entertain a notion that what he took for real, was just an illusion fabricated by some giant computer, was preposterous. Reading closely, he noticed the scientific rigor involved in construction of this proposal… was impeccable. Manu was a logic driven atheist, who valued hard evidence above all else. As a practical man who routinely dealt with high power corporate mergers and financial transactions of global economy defining scales, he rarely had time to contemplate abstractly. In fact his only free time away from work would be spent sharing quality time with his precious daughter.

Stepping into the room in her pink pajamas, and fluffy bunny slippers, Kalki rubbed her eyes and yawned before dragging herself over to where her father sat. Giving his leg a big hug, Kalki lovingly sang “Gooood mooorning daaadyyyy!” Looking up from the paper, Manu smiled, peering over reading glasses and exclaimed “Good morning sweetheart!” Picking her up onto his lap, he gave the little girl a big kiss on the head, and held her tight. “So did you sleep well baby? Had nice dreams? What do want for breakfast ha? Why don’t you go wake up mum while I get your food ready. Off you go, give your mother a kissy and cuddle.” he instructed, setting the child back on her feet. “Wash your face, and brush your teeth on the way back, ok?” Kalki nodded and ran off to her parent’s bedroom, to spend a few minutes snoozing beside Tara.

Global Operations Director, Jacob ‘the great’… had invited Manu over for a round of golf, on this perfect morning. Such a rare honor prompted the young executive to get ready in a furious rush, so as to make sure he was not late for this important rendezvous. Keeping his family’s meal laid out for when they woke, Manu departed hurriedly, accidentally forgetting a crucial communications device on the way out. When already seated in the urban transport pod, he finally realized that all relevant location information had been left back at home. It was too late to return for it now, so he laboriously inquired with a centralized mapping service helpline on board, to track down Jacob’s private estate. Feeding the data in, after a while of trying to figure out this recently updated user interface, Manu was eventually on his way. Hopefully with this meeting, he would rise in corporate ranks, and secretly; he wondered if this invitation… could perhaps lead to a position… within the enigmatic committee of ‘three hundred and thirty three’ world leaders.

A few dozen miles outside the city, Manu began to suspect that there may have been some error in this address, sourced from public help lines. Now hovering through a forested area, with no apparent defined trail, the automated transport vehicle came to an abrupt halt. Emerging from this pod, Manu walked about a little wondering where on earth, was mistakenly led to. Trying to re-enter correct coordinates into the machine, he realized that its operating system had also inexplicably shut down. ‘Great… just great’, he thought to himself, and kicked the side of this hovercraft, only hurting his own toe more than anything else. Hobbling off into the woods, Manu searched for some sign of civilization, or connecting road.

Having walked aimlessly for hours, Manu dejectedly realized that there was no way, for him to reach Jacob’s abode in time. Severely frustrated with not having a communications device, to call ahead and apologize for being absent, Manu searched for some sort of solution like a madman. He was never formerly acquainted with the experience, of not being in control of a situation. Panicking at nature’s mercy, he worried about not finding food, water or shelter. Surviving the wilderness was an unnecessary skill set in a modern virtual world, and he didn’t have the slightest idea how to endure. Oddly enough, the most troublesome potential situation, which haunted Manu to his core, was that he would need to use a bathroom soon enough. Going in the wild was unthinkable for the refined gentleman.

Chancing upon a swamp, he noticed a light reflecting off its surface in the thicket behind. As it was now quite dark, he could not see any way towards this light around the marsh, so resorting to desperate measures, he dived in… trying to swim across. Water was gooey and muddy, with algae and a host of slithering crawling things, which Manu pointedly ignored while trying to swim across as fast as physically possible. Reaching the other bank, he crawled up a steep climb to the plateau above, from where he could now hear music emanating as well. Wet, filthy, miserable and severely ticked off, Manu walked through a small garden to the front door of this tiny dwelling. Made of timber and thatch, the cozy little cottage looked like something out of a fairytale, and Manu almost expected a hobbit to answer its door.

To his shock, the short stout blond haired, green eyed occupant of this home did actually resemble some kind of mythical wizard. Wearing an odd hooded cape like shawl, the man looked upon Manu and greeted him with a triumphant exclamation “So you are here finally! I am very happy to meet you. Welcome to my humble home.” Manu immediately assumed that he was dealing with a lunatic of sorts, and in turn exercised great caution while entering the house. “I’ve been expecting you for a while now, what took you so long this time? It might be a better world this time… and what not, but I thought we would have gotten started by now. Oh sorry… where are my manners!” Reaching out to shake Manu’s hand, this strange host finally introduced himself saying “Hi… my name is Dan.”

Cleaned up and feeling refreshed, Manu returned to the compact living space, where Dan had already prepared some snacks and tea. Manu sat and chatted with him for a while, and soon enough they were deeply involved in all sorts of political discussion. “So what do you do for a living?” Dan pried, curiously wondering how it was, that this Avatar version; knew next to nothing regarding the spiritual dimension of life. “Well I manage financial portfolios, and borrow institutional assets, to power other lucrative economic devices… essentially I use capital money to make profit money.” said Manu, condensing his real job description with gibberish, so as to not bore this new friend. “Well that sounds like fun!” Dan joked sarcastically. “So you’ve never had the opportunity to actually make anything creatively; as you simply take commissions from transactions right?”

Manu was slightly taken aback by this sweeping generalization applied to his life’s work, and indignantly replied “Well I have a daughter, and I have made a lovely home for my family. Marriage is a complex intuitively built relationship as well. Just because I don’t sit in the forest and paint… or whatever it is that you do out here, doesn’t mean that I’m not contributing creatively to the world!” Realizing that his response to Dan’s humor was quite aggressively defensive, Manu apologized for the minor outburst. Dan made nothing of it and asked, “Hmm… so you have you ever tried acid?” cutting straight to the chase. There was a devious twinkle in Dan’s eye, knowing well that this drug would do wonders, in unlocking Manu’s… thus far ‘limited’ perceptions of reality.

“Of course not!” exclaimed Manu, stating emphatically how he had not, and would never do drugs. “I have a family and a child! I have a job, and reputation! How could I be so irresponsible, and throw my life away… for some petty indulgence.” Dan noticed that his abrupt question had seriously put this guest on edge, and decided to change subject, thereby easing tensions. Interiors of this space were adorned with a whole range of trinkets and artifacts from around the world. Most objects happened to be of religious relevance, and the cultural variety on display was quite impressive. Manu inquired how it was that Dan managed to get hold of all this stuff. “Well I travel a lot you see. My whole life I have been wandering around the world… looking for answers… meeting with sages, mystics and thinkers... putting bits and pieces of understanding together. For a long time I have searched, and the quest continues… I cannot rest for some reason. I have to keep reaching and probing. Alas, the journey continues.”

Manu looked quizzically at Dan, wondering what he was babbling on about, and couldn’t help asking “Looking for answers to what… and searching where?” Roles reversed, it was time for Dan to explain the facts of life to his old friend and teacher. “Doesn’t reality seem to be a little too perfect for comfort sometimes? Can you even remember when things came to be like this? Look around you, and pay attention. How can we be sure if this world is actually ‘real’… what if we are just part of some gigantic holographic computer simulation? What if you managed to somehow experienced something ‘outside’ of this reality… what would it mean for the ‘inside’… if you get my drift.” Having just read about universal hologram theories that very morning was an eerie coincidence. Manu asked Dan to explain himself clearly, as he lost track of the last part, involving insides and outsides of reality. For some reason he suddenly could not focus on what was being said. It felt as if he temporarily forgot meaning in language, as the rest of what Dan spoke appeared like an inverted mixed up garble of sounds.

Soon enough Manu’s visual perception altered, allowing him to recognize Dan, as that same companion with whom this meditation space had been shared with, so many times before. Memory of Avatar nature flooded telepathically, as the ‘truth of truths’ was explained without words… once again. Unaware that Dan had naughtily added an entheogenic compound to their tea, Manu drifted into deep trance, subliminally receiving instructions for a next great adventure, waiting to unfold. Returning from this momentary self-realization, his mind was naturally overwhelmed with conflicting understandings, and the whole experience blurred like a dream, leaving one key memory in its wake. Before arising wide eyed and shocked, the last vision Manu remembered; was of a shadowy figure holding a trident… uttering one deep resonant word, “AAAUUUMMM”

Dawn had broken, and Dan sat by a window ledge smoking a pipe, waiting for his friend to come back down to earth. Manu had not seen anyone smoke in ages, and it emitted an overwhelmingly smelly odor. Dan looked knowingly at the Avatar and handed over the pipe. “Oh no, I never smoke.” Manu replied refusing the gesture. “Yes… you don’t do drugs either, right?” Realizing that the previous night’s meditation was not triggered by some stroke of luck, Manu looked at Dan accusingly. Dan just looked straight back with an expressionless calm gaze. Remembering lessons learned from divine moments of truth, recently encountered; Manu took the pipe. Drawing a long deep inhalation, he held the breath in for a couple of seconds, before heavily exhaling a large cloud of smoke. “See… you’re a natural.” Dan pointed out, and enquired about how Manu felt, post enlightenment.

“Well… that was one hell of a roller coaster ride last night! But yes, I feel good… better actually. Wow… so much wisdom; in so many memories… it’s like everything all came flooding back. As if I’ve been asleep for so long… I awoke to realize that it’s all connected… new tools of thought helped me understand, that the story is about continuity… it’s all about continuity.” He took another long draw at this magic pipe. “The truth is that there are many truths. The reality is that there are many realities. We are supposed to just… be… to live fully… in every moment; as we are what we do. I know now that the time has come to flow… to just keep flowing.” Coughing a little for holding in smoke too long, he handed the pipe back to Dan.

“Good to have you back boss. So I guess you know where things go from here right?” Manu nodded in surrender. Mystic visions were streaming back, thanks to inhaling these burning leaves. “Why is it always the drug though?” Manu asked, faintly remembering every time they danced this same dance. Dan had often wondered about the critical point, as no real or tangible link could be established between the structure of molecular compounds involved in triggering psychedelic states, and actual visions or understanding derived therein. “Honestly the way I see it, since everything is just a metaphor within a massive story, being played out over and over… perhaps these compounds are symbolic keys of sorts. Taking the dose is like opening a doorway to a story within the story.”

Manu listened intently, “For example when you open a book, and read… suddenly there are a million images and landscapes flowing across your mind. Really speaking there is no tactile link, between the ink on a page and mental visuals they generate. The act of reading is of importance… you see. By making a gesture of going through text, like a key; the book would open a doorway to a whole world ‘beyond’, yet within yourself; creating a story within your life story… just like the drug. A story in a book is not the paper it is printed on, much the same as an entheogenic experience, is not the molecule which triggers it.” Dan was trying sincerely to ensure that the Avatar would never fall prey, to mistakenly assuming that this medium was the message. Delivering his idea by metaphor, he once again quoted a Zen master, with an echoing accompanied déjà-vu. “It is like a finger that points to the moon… don’t look at the finger, or you will miss all the heavenly glory.” Manu smirked as memory reverberated.

“I think it’s time to get home.” concluded Manu after meditating silently by sunrise, upon these precious wisdoms for a while. Dan showed him to the nearest transportation hub, and sent this old comrade off with a familiar wink, saying “See you next time Manu.” The Avatar laughed a little, but in truth he mildly dreaded the long, long journeys ahead. Reaching home, Manu was received by his darling family with great joy and love. Worried sick, as they knew not of his whereabouts for the whole night, Tara kissed her husband deeply, happy to have him back… safe and sound. He looked into her eyes, and she noticed something different.

Asking what the matter was, Manu brushed off her concern and inquired if there was anything to eat. While preparing an omelet and toast, Tara looked suspiciously at her man, with profound intuition that everything was about to change. As usual she was not wrong; but with elegant grace, Tara patiently allowed Manu to unwind a little before probing further. Kalki asked her father where he had been hiding, and why he left them at home alone. Manu laughed assuring Kalki that he would never hide. Explaining to his daughter how some urgent work came up last minute, Manu apologized sincerely for not tucking her in at night, and promised to make up for this injustice with an extra bedtime story and surprise present. Goatee was also given a bonus treat to chew on, by Kalki’s request. If she was getting a gift, surely her doggie was entitled to one too.

Sending their daughter off for school, Tara approached Manu in his study room, “Many calls came for you, from the Global Operations Director’s office. They said you never made it to the estate for golf with Mr. Jacob? Apparently you missed the tea party, after the game as well. What happened to you Manu, and why on earth did you leave your communicator behind?” Regaling details of a turbulent, adventurous day and night just past, Tara saw that her husband was visibly different in an ineffable way. Something about his body language, the words he was using, the poetic way in which he spoke. Exuding a renewed confidence, Manu proceeded to attempt describing his psychedelic vision to Tara. He wondered if she would understand references and models for this newfound set of perspectives. “It would take writing a whole book, to just describe a single moment of that visionary state.” Manu joked, and laboriously rambled on articulating the experience.

Tara understood everything she heard, for motherhood was one of those particularly profound human experiences, which induced an unshakable connection with the truth of universal love. Giving life was so divinely creative a process, that simply bearing witness to this moment would be sufficient to educate any person about the miracles of reality. To feel genesis of another being within one’s own womb, and to nurture this companion for months was naturally transforming, both physically and spiritually. A pregnant body goes through formidable metamorphosis, and in turn said connected mind invariably evolves in ways, which only subtle wisdom could perceive. Female psychology was tuned by more advanced biology, to innately know… what a male mind, would usually need to learn.

Harmony, connectivity, continuity, grace, beauty and love… feminine traits that mankind would take long to absorb. Tara sat patiently, and watched with tired eyes as her husband, went down another rabbit hole of ideas. Her strength would help hold his course, as her care would protect his path, her compassion would allow for his failings, and her inspiration would flood him with the energy to continue. Theirs was an eternal journey, without rest or respite… and this long walk away from home, undertaken for the joy of exploration. Of course an ultimate mission would always be to spread divine energy, in every way possible. Starting within themselves and radiating outwards, the Avatar couple focused all their efforts on systematic purification and redemption of the human soul. Never viewing reality as an opponent, they knew well… that life was manifest, to assist efflorescence. In truth life itself, was their greatest teacher; all along.


For those who show the way.