A seagull flew

A seagull flew

17 November 2019

Months had gone by since she passed away yet the memory of her wane face was still imprinted in my mind. I was in Egypt when she died and my brother and I were by coincidence in the same neighbourhood in Cairo when we got the news. We both tried desperately to get back to her to be in time for the funeral but I was only able to catch the evening flight the day after she had passed away. Our family members had delayed the funeral so that we could attend. I arrived almost the morning of her funeral, weary and still in shock. I was still unable to face the reality of her demise. Later in the morning, I sat by her side still numb with the shock of the news of her death. She looked so frail wrapped in her light green and white saree that she used to like. The lady who tended to her had wrapped her in it and it was tightly secured in a few knots over her head.

 

I asked my aunt if we could unwrap the top as I wanted to kiss her goodbye and my aunt unsecured the knots uncovering her face. It was pale, thin and drawn. I kneeled and put my lips to her forehead and the moment I did so it felt like a dam had opened up in my heart and the pain seared through. The tears flowed down my cheeks uncontrollably as I kissed her forehead and held her. After a while I regained composure and sat beside her as other members of the family moved around arranging everything for the funeral. People came and went offering their condolences and asking me if I remembered them but I recognised none, my mind blank to any memory of their faces. I don’t recall much in the days that followed, except for the aching sense of grief that would not leave. I could not believe that she was gone and I would see her no more.

 

She was an ordinary yet extraordinary woman. She had lived a difficult life after she had married my father and joined him when he had wanted to return to his home country. Ostracised, unable to speak the language and to adapt to the surroundings she was not used to, she had concentrated all of her attention on us, her children. Later, when she had returned to her home country, it was always visible that the experiences she had lived during that period away from her home had significantly marked her. She remained despite all the hostility she had faced a woman with a positive heart and a desire to always help. I remembered warmly now – although it would drive us crazy when she used to do it while we were young, how she used to gather all the stray cats that had been tortured by some awful kids in the neighbourhood and slowly nurse them back to a healthy state.

She was a beautiful woman, not just outside but also inside and her thoughts were always about how one should be a better person and make the world a better world. She believed in the virtues of kindness, respect, caring, independence and equanimity. She lived her vocation in all aspects of her life. A nurse by profession, tending alternately to children with severe diseases or to third degree burn victims, I remember how the patients would talk of her with praise and gratitude. It was not that she was a soft woman as she could be really tough on us sometimes, having spent several years taking care of us on her own. It was that she truly cared about others and was a nurturing human being. It was not by accident that she had become a nurse, she had always wanted to help others hence her choice of the medical field.

 

I returned to my daily routine but felt listless as if something had been broken. I realised that it was because with the death of my mother a whole aspect of my life was disappearing. When we lose our mother, it is almost as if the last link to our childhood is broken. Mothers are so emblematic of those times of innocence when we could huddle up closer to them and feel comforted and safe. I had spent many a night tucked underneath her arm when I was raving with fever and waking up tightly held by her had always given me the feeling that everything would always be alright. Somehow, the fact that she was no longer there made me feel like I had lost the possibility of feeling that comfort again. There is something unique about the comfort a mother can bestow and that nothing else can replace.

 

One day, I was feeling particularly destitute and thinking about my mother. It pained me to think that a woman like her who had cared so much for others had died all alone. Indeed, by a rare coincidence, my sister-in-law had not returned before her carer left and in the thirty minutes or so between the leaving of the carer and the return of my sister-in-law, my mother had breathed her last. I was thinking about how I had been planning for my children to visit their grandmother again that summer and how this would no longer be possible. My thoughts were focused on my mother and I could feel the grief well inside me again. I had stopped writing as I could not bring myself to pen anything and the weeks were turning into months.

 

As I walked, cloaked in my grief, a shrill call from above caught my attention. There, just a few meters above my head, a seagull flew with its arms alternating between stretching and flapping. It seemed to fly in a criss-cross pattern, right above my head, all the while calling shrilly. I stopped and looked at it and it stopped on the rooftop to the right of my head. I moved onward and the seagull called out and flew over my head again. From the entrance to the compound where I lived until the building where my apartment was, it continued to follow me calling shrilly all the while flying above my head in that curious criss-cross pattern. As I reached my building and looked up at it again, it turned its head one way and the other almost as if it were sizing me up. I felt as if it were a messenger from above as it called again shrilly. I thought of my mother again and as I smiled up at it, I could feel a weight lift off my heart. I looked around me and noticed the intense purple of the lavender in the pot and the bright yellow of the fallen leaves. That sense of comfort would always be there. Her body may have disappeared but she was still there, in every bird that flew, in every leaf that fluttered, in every beautiful thing that shone on in this world around me. I smiled up again and the seagull flew.

 

 

Mother (in Arabic) and Woman (in English) both dedicated to my mother – Geetha Balvannanathan

Alternate Realities – Chapter Six : The path of the Goddess

Alternate Realities – Chapter Six : The path of the Goddess
10 June 2019

dragon alphacoders com
Courtesy alphacoders.com

She held out her hand and the dragons came closer, sniffing carefully at her hands before they huddled closer around her and rubbed their cheeks and foreheads against her palms. Their skin had not developed the hard scales yet and it felt smooth and silky. She was fascinated by how sweet and loving they seemed. Not at all the scary beasts that stories would have them be. Perhaps this was a feature of being in their infancy.

– How long does it take for a dragon to mature, she asked
– It depends
– How can it depend ?
– It depends if it is a real dragon or an imaginary replica
– What do you mean an imaginary replica ?
– Some of these dragons were born in the way that they usually are, through the interaction between a God and a human. Some of them are not born, they are imagined based on either the memory of that interaction or the vision of the interaction to come
– How can humans and Gods have a physical relationship ?
– It only happens in this Universe and is only possible with human beings
– How are the others imagined ? How do they actually get life out of imagination
– Well in this universe a lot is based on what is perceived. Not much really exists out of the sphere of the human imagination. Everything is merely energy. It is the perception of how that energy evolves that makes it evolve into various concrete forms. When a human woman remembers or foresees an interaction with a God, her womb accumulates the energy of a planned birth but as the spark is not transferred into her, the energy does not materialise into an actual dragon but is just an imaginary replica.
– You said they were neither flesh nor spirit but a combination of both. What does that mean ?
– They are not made with an actual sperm, unlike when the interaction is between humans but are made with the spark that is transferred by the God into the woman. That spark then evolves into a dragon in the womb of the woman
– Does it not kill her when it comes out of her ? She was thinking back to the various alien movies
– It does not, because it just dematerialises out of her womb and rematerialises outside. As I said, they are a combination of flesh and spirit and can be either one or the other depending upon the circumstances.
– Can all women be impregnated by Gods ?
– Not all. Only some and not all are able to give birth to dragons. Some just give forth immaterial beings because they are not able to imagine the dragon into the world.
– This is quite confusing. I never thought it would be like this. Why were some of the dragons cuddling up to me.
– That is because you are their mother
– What ? Her head was spinning again like when she had first realised who he was.
– You are their mother, he repeated softly
– With whom ?
– I think you already know that by now
– It can’t be. I thought it was all part of my imagination
– It is
– I’m so sorry.
– It does not matter
– How can we use them in the battle then ?
– They get their power from their father and it helps provide the energy required to counter the Gods of the dark and their armies. When you house the Mother, it will all become clear.
– House the Mother? What do you mean ?
– I think you know that too. You must remember that you have already housed her before
– Housed her ? When ?
– Not so long ago. Unfortunately it did not work out exactly as planned and it is just as well as the children of the world in between were not ready yet.

She vaguely remembered the great light that had come like a torch of fire and gone into her eyes. It had seemed like a bird of flames and she had not been able to run away or close her eyes. That light had penetrated her through the eyes and had filled her being. She looked back at him

– Yes, he said before she voiced her question
– That was the Mother ? Why did she leave then ?
– Well there was a lot of meddling that happened. Instead of her being manifested into you naturally, there were some people who tried to accelerate the process, spoiling it
– Too many cooks…, she said wryly.
– If they had not meddled with the process the integration would have been complete. Unfortunately they wanted to control the process apparently to ensure they could use it to their benefit I imagine.
– But how can I house her now ? Should she not be within the body of a young and physically fit woman ?
– That is not what is most important. Besides, once the Mother dwells within you and the integration is complete you will be transformed
– Why me ?
– The Mother does not choose mere beauty. She can create it out of nothing, even in this world if she were to wish so. She wanted someone who would not follow religious dogma but would be a seeker of spirituality. Someone who had just enough balance between the right brain and the left brain to be able to keep their imagination alive while being well versed in mathematics and with an interest in science. A woman with courage, endurance and balance. Someone whose skin she would feel comfortable in, a lover of art and the spoken word.
– I do love words, she said with a smile
– Do you know that words, spoken in a certain way and with the right intention allow the manifestation of thoughts ? The ancient people of this world knew that and were able to create things through the use of carefully selected words
– You mean magic spells ?
– Yes, if you wish to call it that. It is merely the manifestation of focused intention.
– How do you know someone meddled with the process of the integration, she asked, curious about that episode that had seemed so hazy now.
– The Mother and I are not absolutely sure if they wanted to accelerate the process or stall it. What we know is that they gave you a drug a few days before the Mother was about to transfer a part of her consciousness into you. That drug interfered with your chemical balance and made the transfer of the Mother into you unstable. If it had not been for that, the integration would have been complete.
– Why does the Mother need to integrate with me.
– She needs to be within this world to transform it from the inside out. That is the best way to conquer it back. If she comes as the Mother, she will not be able to interact with all human beings alike. She needs a human envelope to enable that interaction. She does not come here to be worshipped but to change the state of things in this world, beginning with the condition of women.
– Why women ?
– Simply because they nurture and when their lives are better, there will be less fear in the world. As you know, a world without fear is a world that will belong to us again. Then humanity can enter the Golden Age.

She looked at Horus and looked back at the dragons. She wondered how they would be contributing their energy. Would they know about their father ? Would they not want to fight alongside him instead of with the Mother, Horus and her ?

– Dragons are more loyal to their mother than to their father, he said. He seemed to be reading her mind again
– How do you know that ?
– I know that because the ones we had together chose you over me
– The ones we had together ? Her head was reeling now
– I know this is all a lot to digest but when Settesh realised that the dragons birthed would not follow him, he stopped making them with you. The Mother knew we needed more dragons so asked me to make more with you.
– And I did not have a say in all of this of course, she said slightly bitterly
– It is done now. It had to be done. You barely realised the difference

She looked again at the dragons and felt something strange between fascination, motherly pride and love. They looked so cute, she could not believe that they would become huge and powerful beyond her wildest dreams. Horus was now communicating silently to her that soon the mother would be back and she must be ready for her. The children must also evolve so they could play their part. All she had to do was think of them evolving, perceive it happening and it would happen. She looked back at the dragons and imagined them growing. The more she imagined, the more she felt they were actually growing.

Timelapse – Mari Samuelsen

Sums of nothingness

Sums of nothingness

26 August 2018

nothingness Catrin Welz-Stein - woman field German Surrealist Graphic Designer - Tutt'Art@ (4)
Courtesy Catrin Welz-Stein

 

They flew in bosom

Starry eyed children from home

Otherworldly trace

 

Mother stilled my heart

Creepers exhaled wilderness

Petals hung in air

 

Old garlands crumbled

Yesterday’s gods lived no more

Peace an outsider

 

Carved doors stayed ajar

Valleys and hills relayed height

Journeys dispelled fear

 

Moonbeams carried sight

Into the night I rode lone

Withered traces swept

 

Retracing mindscape

Counting footsteps I gathered

Sums of nothingness

 

Reading of the poem: 

Here without You – 3 Doors Down

 

 

Summoning the rains

Summoning the rains

25 February 2018

remnants pinterest com gray_lost_in_storm_sad_woman_rain_people_hd-wallpaper-1611547
Courtesy pinterest.com

 

She looked at the Mother squarely and could see that there was something the Mother wanted to say but was refraining from saying it. Softly she told the Mother that she had decided to bring the rains upon the land once again. The Mother told her that she was aware of it as this had already embodied into rain in the future that the Mother could see. She turned and looked at herself in the mirror and then turned back to the Mother again. She told her that she had hesitated a lot but then decided to do so because there were so many people who could be adversely affected by the growing heat if she let things go as they had started off with the fires of the phoenix. The Mother merely smiled at her.

She turned back again from the Mother and like in a self confession she whispered almost to herself that she had decided to use the techniques of the shamans of old. She knew from the Mother that first came the word that was used to invoke the right frame of Magic for the intent to manifest. She had therefore decided that she would use a couple of poems for the transition from the drought-like state to a state of rainy weather. She knew that the world of the physical had its own rules so it would not be possible to go straight from one to the other and therefore decided that she would first gather some white clouds and then darken them in order to bring the rain upon the land.

As instructed in earlier stages by the Mother she first released the worded embodiment of the manifestation she wished to create into the collective consciousness and then sought to manifest it by entering into a meditative state using the music that the Mother indicated to her as appropriate. The first step of gathering the clouds was successful and she looked happily at the fluffy white clouds in the sky that had only minutes earlier been blue and free of any type of clouds. As the clouds gathered in the sky, she smiled to herself thinking that this was indeed a step in the good direction.

She waited a couple of days for the situation to stabilise and then released the worded embodiment of a storm into the collective consciousness. This last wording however was released into a smaller number of individual components of the collective consciousness and she could therefore feel that it would be less successful. She decided nevertheless to pursue the intention of causing rain to fall upon the land and armed with her headphones and her mobile, she sat in the park where she could connect directly to Gaia. Once the headphones secured on her head, she started breathing slowly and regularly and drifted into the meditation.

The drums of thunder that accompanied the music of the flute lulled her to sleep and she felt herself sink slowly into an altered state of consciousness. As with each time she entered such a state she could see ravens all around her and hear them cawing to her. The ravens pointed to the middle of the sky where an eye revealed itself before tears started flowing from it. She realised that the tears were flowing in the form of rain and she could hear the sound of the thunderstorm in the music accompany aptly the sound of the falling rain. She opened her eyes and could see the rain falling from a dark brooding sky all around her onto the landscaped gardens of the park. She looked around her pleased with this achievement and smiled.

 

Native American – Music- (Rain dance)

In between two minds

In between two minds

18 February 2018

Phoenix blue birds
Courtesy pinterest.com

 

She watched as the visions of her invoking the rain unfolded but she was not determined yet to bring them into this reality. She surmised that when she had first stopped the rains with the combined effect of her worded intent and the shamanic trances with their resulting phoenix fires she had been fully possessed with the wrath of the phoenix so it had resulted in a heightened output of drought. The result was not just a cessation of rains but also a heightened temperature that was very unlikely for the season. She realised that for now she was only fully willing to bring in some winds to cool the otherwise unbearable temperature.

She came out of her trance and looked around her. She had to admit that even if it weren’t for the fact that she was in between two minds it would be difficult for her to bring back the rains on the land. They had indeed stripped her garden of its tall trees that had given her a connection to Gaia and she knew it was not possible for her to do the raindance in one of the parks where there were trees as people around her might call the police thinking her crazy. She wondered whether the smaller shrubs in her garden could give her a connection that was strong enough to allow the intent to penetrate Gaia’s core.

She knew that without Gaia’s collaboration even the strongest of Shamans would need at least a month in order to invoke rain after activation of the wrath of the phoenix which had released its flames into the atmosphere. She realised that having the rains come after the rainy season, especially if that season had been incredibly warm would seem too odd and perhaps someone would notice the discrepancies and that would create more problems for her. She wondered whether she should invoke the rain at all as her projects had still not come to fruition and she was not sure they would not interfere again in her life making it unbearable.

That night she went to bed early as the Mother had told her she wanted her to be available for a journey. As she fell asleep, she saw the beautiful face of the Mother who guided her and told her that she needed to journey to the land of ravens to make up her mind and see what sources of connection to Gaia she could use to manifest her intent into the world. Several months ago, the Mother had already told her that the beginning of the manifestation was by the written word that was like a magic scripture and that further intent with shamanic intensity as well as connection to Gaia had to be put in to manifest any reality that was linked to Gaia.

As she walked in the dream she saw ravens collect around her and some sat on her head and shoulders. They cawed loudly as she swayed to the hypnotic music that played somewhere in the distance. It was a mixture of drum beats and flute that echoed strangely across the empty lands. The ravens cawed in unison to the music and then rose above her head to form a swirling circle that looked like a whirlpool. While she gazed at the whirlpool she saw within it red poppies, bougainvillae and roses. The Mother told her that these would be her connection to Gaia and that she would need to hold the bougainvillae or the roses while she was doing the shamanic dance so that it would be more effective.

She wondered why the Mother had not simply told her which connection to use for Gaia but the Mother told her that Gaia like all other living beings had her own free will and chose freely how to connect with humans. That choice could only be voiced to humans in an altered state of consciousness through the portal that ravens created which is why she had had to journey to the land of ravens otherwise also known as the land in between mundane reality and the Netherworld. It was a land that one visited when in shamanic trance or within dreams. The Mother also told her that she would need to make up her mind on what she really wanted to do as manifesting something only worked when one was totally convinced that one wanted it to happen.

She shook her head and looked around her as she woke up from the dream. She was not sure she wanted to invoke the rain but at the same time she knew that if she kept the wrath of the phoenix alive then the land would be scorched in a few months as the temperature would keep rising higher. She realised that it would be easier if her projects had been fully successful as she could then be relaxed and dedicate her time to a successful outcome instead of being in between minds about the weather and not manifesting the rain.

She looked out of the window and pitch black met her gaze as there were no street lamps near her house and the moon was hidden. She squared her shoulders and looked back inside the room at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was tired and drawn. She needed to make up her mind on whether to carry out the shamanic dance using the points of connection shown in her dream. She could feel the Mother hovering in the air behind her. She hid her face in her hands for a few seconds and then turned to face the Mother…

 

The Call For Total Surrender – Byron Metcalf & Steve Roach

Rain down on me

Rain down on me

15 February 2018

dream artistsinspireartists com
Courtesy artistsinspireartists.com

 

The Mother talked to her of nightly visits, of flights in the sky and children with hawk-like beaks and human bodies that traveled in between worlds. The Mother watched over her and reassured her that soon things would be back to normal and she should then bring back rains to the land. According to the Mother it had all been a combination of a mistake on behalf of one faction and a test on behalf of another who had not synchronised their actions with the first faction. The result had been a messy situation where she had got hurt and her livelihood had been stripped from her. The Mother reassured her that nobody had had the intention of really harming her.

As she woke up, she remembered the Mother’s words and realised that it was probably going to be true as her situation was slowly but surely improving. All that had been done to her was fading and the impact would soon be gone if the projects she was working upon were successful. She realised that even though she did not have a positive outcome yet she would have to start her dance with the spirits of the rain as she could not wait until the rainy season was over. It would indeed appear odd if she were to invoke the rains totally outside of the rainy season. Besides she knew that she had put in so much strength when invoking the fires of the phoenix that it would take her at least a week of raindance to get the rain started again. She wondered whether they had realised that she had invoked the spirits of the drought or whether they had simply stopped interfering with her situation regardless of that.

Slowly but surely, she aligned her intent with the positioning of the spirits and began to sway internally and outwards. In sync with the beats and therefore the frequency of the thunder clouds, she danced consciously joining hands with the spirits and twirling with them above the desert sands. This time they gathered clouds and made sure they impregnated them with the intent of water so that they could slowly be charged and subsequently wet the lands with their content. She wondered whether she would need them to seed the clouds that they formed or whether the dance alone would be enough to invoke the rains.

Onwards she twirled with the spirits, her astral body gleaming in the sunlight and she did not stop until the night fell around her body equally twirling on the ground far below. She continued dancing to the moon conjuring its rays so that the waters in the sea would swell and impregnate further the clouds. Her body rocked with the intensity of the thunderbolts that shot through it and her hair stood at ends under the effect of the mini lightning rays that her dance provoked. Her astral body left a trail of steam that was strewn across the sky as she pulled intended blankets of clouds over the sun. Day after day she continued this exercise until the Mother told her that it was now enough and the rains would arrive shortly. She raised high her hands above her head, aligned her pineal gland with her vagus nerve, twirled her body one way and its opposite and let out a guttural cry like the shamans of old before yelling « Rain down on me ». The sky darkened, lightning appeared in the horizon as the clouds broke into corridors of darkened fluffy balls and the rain showered the lands.

Dark Brew – Byron Metcalf

Raven Medicine – Byron Metcalf

Dance of the Heart Voyagers – Byron Metcalf-Mark Seelig

Moon Petals

Moon Petals

15 November 2017

Christian schloe tumblr com 2
Courtesy Christian Schloe on tumblr.com

 

Grey dawns pearl

Pushing back the night

It subsides

In circles

The Sun picking up the strides

Invades horizons

 

New day born

From womb that was torn

Miracles

Pulsating

Within mind’s webs creating

Remnants of her Art

 

The Mother

She anointed me

Moon Petals

Whispering

The moment when prayers ring

To temples in heart

 

Reading of the poem: 

Shoot the Moon – Norah Jones

Nightingale – Norah Jones

LoneStar – Norah Jones