In a world where Daria would be a Queen

“Damn, I would say she’s the reincarnation of some goddess, if I believed in reincarnation. But you get my point. I can’t seem to be able to take my eyes off her. She blows me off every single time. How does she do this?”

“Yeah, right. Even when she isn’t here, she manages to blow me off! If she knew what all she’s done and where she’s been in my fantasies,…man!”

“She’s by far the smartest woman I’ve ever seen in my life, seriously mate! She’s even smarter than the ones on the top lists around the world! Take my word for that.”

‘Smart’..uh..what? Isn’t sexy or beautiful the word you were looking for?

Imagine a parallel world where sexy has been replaced by intelligence, and how women are judged upon their brains rather than their looks: magazines rank them according to how smart or witty they are, and men too go gaga over this asset of theirs, while ‘beauty’ is relegated to some less-important level.

That would be absurd, right? And oh so unfair!

Isn’t the actual world, where it’s beauty/sexiness which is used as such a unit of measurement and judgment and ranking just as absurd and unfair?
Think about that.

Love confession

-So, here you are. It’s time you know. I love you more than anything else. And I did all this and everything for you. Yeah, it’s just you and me.

-What? Why me, out of all the rest of all these people ? Can’t be. It would be unfair. And a lot of them are a nicer, and smarter, and cuter. And so much more loveable.

-I don’t need any of that, I gave you all that you need and I want.

-You do realise this sounds creepy, don’t you?

-Well, we both like creepy, don’t we?

-But you’re supposed to have created all of us equal or something. And to love us the same.

-Yeah they are all equal. And then, there’s you.

-But..

-Sshh. It’s time we fly now.

-No.. It’s some delusion of grandeur, I’m hallucinating, it’s an ego-trip. I’m just like everybody else.

-Come if you want. But you will come ultimately. You can play here some more if you want. I’m not going anywhere. It’s whenever you say you’re ready 🙂

Redefining Archetypes

gandalf_the_grey_by_kitao_chan-d5t4w3iDo you know the archetype of the sage or wiseman? With the long flowing beard, playful and reassuring eyes and enigmatic smile. The one who does not speak a lot, but appears randomly and unexpectedly, and pours down subtle but powerful pearls of wisdom. The one who has so much power on people he could make them his slaves, if he wanted. Like Gandalf and Dumbledore, or Osho or the ancient Indian sages, gurus or a powerful celtic magus or Merlin l’Enchanteur or Lauv or Rumi.

Take this archetype and put it in the body of a little girl. Wisdom has no age, no sex, no physical appearance, right? So there is no reason this could not be possible. What about a story on that? The all-knowing, wise and enigmatic little girl whom everybody else does not take really seriously at first glance, but who goes through the world making little changes and paving the paths she takes, with flowers and light.

You could say Ang, from ‘Avatar: The last Airbender’ is an example of this. But it’s not. Ang is still childish, learning and prone to the turbulent emotions of a young child. Remember when he went to the indian sage, the Guru to learn to open his chakra and about his own fears and stuff? Well, the girl i’m trying to portray does not need to go through all this. Because she already knows all one can teach. She is at the same level as the Guru et compagnie. (Actually there’s no level, but this is the easiest way to describe it).

Shiva and Soma, DNA and DMT.

What if people looked at Hindu mythologies the same way they look at ‘Lord of the Rings’ and ‘Harry Potter’ and the other fantastical epic novels or movies; without getting on their high horses about the truthfulness or fallacy of the story? Nobody condemns the Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings fan for being a fan of those awesome fantasies, right? So being a big fan of Shiva is just as legit, right? If you have determined first that it’s just a cool story.

Maybe the difference between fantasy novels and Hindu mythologies(or religion) is exactly this: that a religion has been built upon the latter, with many people unconvincingly trying to make-believe it is true and imposing its misinterpreted codes on how people should conduct their lives.

There are some who believe that those ‘puranas’ and ‘stotras’ and other scriptures are just the collection of hallucinogenic creative writings of ancient sages tripping balls on Soma. Like it’s all made-up complex and intricate stories put together by brains going crazy on hallucinogens. But if that were the case, I doubt the sages later went on to shove those stories down people’s throats. They probably just wrote them and left them like creative pieces of work. And the problem came when other people wrongly misinterpreted them and started assigning meanings and codes and rules to them. DNA model

Others still, believe that those stories pertain to some truth: that the spiralling snakes of Shiva and kundalini is a representation of the DNA double-helix strands. (Scientists modelled it after a spiral staircase; hindu sages talked of intermingling snakes).

There is compelling evidence that our thoughts can affect the body to a large extent. And yoga and meditation are so powerful because they basically reach the inner structure of the body and deal with DNA damage and DNA repair. They can both destroy you and repair you, depending on how well or how wrong you’re doing it. There is also this theory about the two types of Shivlings. One is a black meteorite egg-shaped stone. It is said that such a stone is installed at Kabba in Mecca. The other one is man-made and is solidified mercury. (Solidifying mercury is supposed to be an ancient Vedic science.)

The original Shivling apparently came to earth when a black stone meteorite collided with earth many many years ago, carrying DNA, like the Rig Veda recounts. (Btw, the NASA recently declared, following studies on meteor showers, that DNA building blocks rain down via black meteorites as star dust.)

And Shiva’s third eye? Apparently it’s the Pineal gland found in the centre of the brain. Serotonin is transformed into melatonin only in the pineal gland. Decline in melatonin is the trigger for the aging process, for Melatonin is the super Pineal gland in the brainantioxidant of nature. (Monks’ and yogis’ and Buddha’s secret for their youthful looks, yeah.) The hormone Melatonin, induces sleep, while Serotonin, keeps you happy and in a balanced mental state of mind.

At the time of death, Serotonin and Melatonin in the brain break down to Dimethyltryptamine or DMT, C12 N2 H16, just after the oxygen stops circulating. This is the moment for the ultimate DMT trip. You supposedly see your whole past life as fractal divine geometry. And you know what, the Soma, mentioned several times in the 7000 year-old Rig Veda, is said to contain DMT a billion times more potent than what we have now —everybody could not handle it . Totally organic and natural, this hyper psychedelic made the human body a super computer, speaking the language of 4D fractal geometry. Complex maths was converted to geometry. Imagine an Ayahuasca trip multiplied by (insert unbelievably huge number).

And because the sages could not use those scientific terms, they used depictions of a man and his wife and family and wars and stuff to represent the fundamental truths. Imagine going to an uneducated grandma in the village and talking about DNA and molecules and meteorite and DMT. That would just leave her wondering what the freaking hell you’re talking about.

But…I think I went off track.

Bom Shankar!
Cosmic Shiva

Souls and love and timelessness and just Knowing.

Because my nou is the sweetest, most innocent, naughtiest and most mischievous and adorable. And he is all the world needs to function. And to stop sometimes. My world, at least. And without him, is a concept not known to my soul yet. And since my soul is not bound by limitations of time, it has experienced all the times ever possible in the multiverse, and it knows, this concept does not exist, anywhere, at any time. There was never without you, nor will there ever be. You are here with me, you are me. I am myself only to be able to sit back and look at you separate from me, but you’re not. I am you.

 

Focus on…

Not you. Not him. Not anyone. Not anything. Focus on..the only thing that will forever remain. the dark canvas behind closed eyelids. You will be gone. He will. Everyone and everything will. But darkness and emptiness will always be here, at the time of death too probably, to make me confront myself..

I know the prison door is open. And Freedom is staring at me in the face. But I’m scared to go forth, because I might not need you anymore if I’m free. And I might not feel your needs and feelings. Even if i do, they might not touch me at all. And you won’t feel like you can relate to me anymore. And i might not be there for you as much as I am right now. I know..if I love you, and if the love is real, it’s gonna be stronger than anything and persist, whatever the condition I’m in, wherever I am, however high up in the sky i’m soaring. But this is like staking the love for freedom, it’s like taking the risk of losing the love for something which I want for myself which is freedom. It’s like putting freedom first, and love second. It’s like if I can do that, I don’t think I’m even worthy of the love. It’s like I’m losing a kind of true love test or something. But freedom and love shouldn’t be mutually exclusive. It shouldn’t be EITHER freedom OR love; it should be freedom WITH love or love with freedom. Because freedom is usually conducive to a proper, healthy, sane relationship.

And you always tell me I have to be free, you want me to be free. But you know I see everything in absolutes, and absolute freedom is..something big..and awesome.. and scary too. It’s like Lucy. And while I’m scared to run the risk of losing this love (knowing though that the risk is there all the fucking time, with girls and boys around, with boredom and death looming around), in the end, I’m not even sure if love exists at all. And I don’t want to restrict my freedom for something which might just have been an illusion all along. And…and…now that i come to think of it..Freedom too.. like love. like perfection. It’s the kind of thing that we constantly seek, but never seem to find. Or if we’re lucky enough to find it, by the moment we’ve found it, we are already seeking something else. It’s never gonna stop, like the earth rotating, the sun and tides rising n falling, atoms in motion.