Sample Chapter 1


THE GODS19 years of strife under possession

Part I: Survival                                                              Section 1: Days of peril

Wrath of gods?

Am I dead?

The jeep left Isamati at 5 O’clock on January 16 for upward journey in hills towards Shillong. I stopped it on the roadside near Mawsmai 5 Km mark, and moved out for collecting a few rock samples from an interesting ledge of rock. 

My mind was passing through a storm of paradoxes as I climbed the rock cliff for studying the strata for sampling.   There was no way out for me to shake off a nagging feeling within me that I am dead – killed and finished by the dagger of the queen in the nightmare. My existence was no different than a moving corpse. Harder I tried to shake the morbid feeling off; stronger grew the grip of death upon me. Mine was a state of mental helplessness because it was impossible to imagine that a dead person could climb a cliff and sample rocks for study. 

It took years to analyze and infer what had gone wrong with my mind and me in the nightmare of Isamati because we do not understand precisely the mechanism of death beyond decimation of physical existence. Upanishads talk of death of Brahm in living state when a person reaches Braahman state, which is same as Apbrahm or Abraham state of eternal life. Understanding about psyche, spirit and soul was not in my head in 1989, however. I only believed that I would have surely been dead when the ghost queen killed me if I were a normal person. I survived because I was a Brahm or a half-free spirit since 1981. My death was reality on the psychic plane and my murder in Isamati did set free my spirit for next life. But the psyche in me, nourished by the Brahm for last eight years, turned into an active psyche and did no let me die physically due to psychic force. I continued to live in the later years as a Braahman god or Abraham.

Beauty reappears in eyes
I was nearing Umroi Airport of Shillong as sun was approaching mid-heaven when my jeep passed through a weekly market of Khasis. It looked like a village fair. A stunning phenomenon hit me and unusual thing drew my attention instantly. I lost no time in catching a few snaps of the market in my camera for my analysis at Dehradun later, with leisure. 

Women on the roadside looked extremely attractive and passion forcing.  Compelling was their attraction irrespective of their physical configuration and age.  I have been working in the area for the last twelve years. Beauty and attraction are common among young Khasis, but their womenfolk never exerted such an exciting attraction upon me in past.  Magical beauty and intense charm of Khasis was overpowering and masking my logic in explaining unexpected stimulation of sex in me.

I was free from feminine attraction for eight years after February 1981 since entering into   Brahm state of consciousness. My mind had continued undisrupted in the same condition till I moved out of Isamati on January 16. My new and strange attraction for the opposite sex in reproductive age, irrespective of their physical configuration, related somehow to my ‘death’ as a Brahm in the wee hours of January 16th.  I could not draw this simple conclusion at Umroi Airport while analyzing my unusual behavior towards Khasi womenfolk before emplaning the flight to Kolkata. It arrived a few years later.

An orange for sin

There was enough time to continue my journey to Delhi in an Airbus 300 departing at 1700 hrs when my propeller plane landed at Kolkata airport from Shillong. I had a boarding pass soon, marked 29D; and, after the announcement of boarding I was on the seat with a bag of Khasi oranges.  Hangover of my ‘murder’ by the Khasi queen and unusual attraction of Khasi women were enough to shatter and subdue me in twelve hours of strenuous journey since my starting from Isamati in morning. I wished to avail long silence and a nap in the plane journey between Kolkata and Delhi to regain my normal self.

Story of apple, serpent, Eve and Adam is from Mesopotamia. If the beguiler were in Khasi land, he would have no option but to choose an orange for inducing the first man on earth to his first sin. Apples don’t grow in Meghalaya where oranges are aplenty. There is no need either to search only males for mischief. Female devils do a better job these days.  An orange shared between a teenager and me when we were just to take off from Kolkata to Delhi in the evening flight of January 16, ’89 is the basis for altering the plot in Bible for the twentieth and later centuries!

I shrugged at the coincidence extraordinary when the passenger of 29C arrived. She was just another frame in the scene of Khasi fair – an attractive Khasi teenager. First, the Khasi queen murdered me at Isamati; then, a beauty parade of her clan was before me at Umroi; and, now, a solitary model of the same lot is sitting to my left – a   place reserved for wife in Hindu rituals.

Soon, our plane was taxing toward the runway in routine practice before taking off. In a couple of minutes we will be climbing up in the sky of Kolkata for heading towards Delhi, I thought to my relief. A very soothing feeling anointed my harassed heart and dulled mind.

Hopes of our immediate departure were dashed shortly, however, when the plane stopped within minutes of taxing, and an announcement from the cockpit followed “There is an obstruction before the plane, we will move as soon as it is removed.”

Sitting and getting bored, I took out an orange; had a part of it myself, and passed the other to the girl on 29C. She was happy and thankful. There was plenty of time in a nonmoving plane, and her autobiography was on, “I am going to Dehradun: I read in ‘---’   School; have spent long many years in its hostel; this is my twelfth and final year; my exam is over on 18th March; I like English language; my parents will send me to London for higher education after my passing out …”

There was an interruption due to a second announcement from the cockpit, “Please deplane. We will fly to Delhi after a short while.”

Out of the plane, we discovered that the giant bird was standing before a building. It had moved into a wrong and narrow parking lane. Staff members in the airport were discussing loudly about strangeness of such a foolish blunder bedeviled by claims and counterclaims. The pilot claimed that he had entered the parking lane on the instructions of the control tower. The man at the control tower of the airport was denying the story of the pilot as imaginary.

Passengers for Delhi were to avail unlimited waiting period forcibly due to an unexpected situation. How did the pilot commit the blunder or how could he change the course of a taxing plane without instruction from the control tower was of little interest to us, anyway.

Our dinner was in Hotel Airport Asoka around 9 O’clock. The teenager was absent. Her relatives or parents had taken her away; and, there was little chance of her availing the flight expected to leave around midnight.

My co-passenger of 29C was back unexpectedly on her seat past mid-night.  I never imagined that the ghost of the Khasi queen was over my head after I had left Isamati. The orange   from her land was Skai-charmed and proved a potential sin-spinner. The jinxed fruit played its satanic role effectively to drive the pair of Adam and Eve to sin after the plane took off.

I don’t know what befell my virgin co-passenger of 29C in late teens on account of the cursed orange from the  land of Malun;  but,  it surely landed me in unbelievable miseries of hell on the very  earth  for long nineteen years and odd months when my punishment was over.

Please move to front row

Our delayed flight took off from Kolkata around an hour past midnight of January 17. Lights were off soon after the take off, and we were attempting to sleep.  Legs of the teenager and mine touched each other for a moment while adjusting ourselves for a nap. They froze there as such, unmoved for a couple of seconds. A lofty wave of passion hit me when I separated mine from her.  The same was the feeling with her too, I felt. Passions were missing when our bodies touched again. Their separation caused a massive wave of passion again. My experience was unexpected and perplexing. Passions never hit me in past merely by a casual touch of feminine limb or body. Again, my earlier experience was: two bodies of opposite sex turn passion-charged only when they are in contact for a pretty long time. An opposite phenomenon was happening between us two occupying seats 29C and 29D.  Our passions disappeared when our bodies lay in contact. Passion charging waves would hit us when we separated from each other physically.

I lived through the perplexing situation, as if forced upon us by someone, for an hour when my head was in a jammed state.

To come out of the whirlpool of bemusement imposed upon me, I moved farthest from the teenager and attempted to sleep. Communion of our sex was complete with the routine discharge and innate satisfaction even in our separated bodies before my sleep deepened. I woke up and sat straight. Her head drooped over my shoulder for resting.  She requested me, to move to the front row to enable her to avail both our seats for lying down. Her request moved me to another empty seat.

I looked at my co-passenger as we parted after deplaning. She was a bewildered face and her large eyes wide open. I could understand the confusion stirring the mind of an unmarried girl. She had rested her head on the shoulders of some one in the right of a wife after her first conjugation; she was virgin physically.

Neither my co-passenger nor I knew about the cause behind our unnatural marriage without any physical contact between us when we departed.

Blasphemy boomerangs?

rushed to office by 10 O’clock on January 17 after reaching home in Dehradun by an early morning flight from Delhi. It was obvious by the time that earning a new wife in the plane had landed me in Hades and fixed me there. I was very hopeful at the airport of Kolkata about melting away of my harrowing trauma of ‘death’ after reaching Dehradun.  My hope not only vanished in thin air as I reached home, I discovered to my utter dismay that midnight sin in the Airbus 300 had pushed me into another nightmare by 10 O’clock in the day while  occupying my chair in the office.

I was trying to just understand the unusual and unimaginable misery upon me due to the non-physical pairing with the teenager, sitting alone in my office room. Water   was not helping my fast drying throat. Someone was drawing energy out of my hrit (psychic heart on the right side of chest), and I felt that it would burst. A severe pain adjacent to the spinal chord beneath the right scapula was crippling me. There was a burning sensation in the liver, descending down the abdomen and hitting the right side of scrotum. Termination of the creeping sensation led ultimately to an inflammation of the right testes.   I was miserable and in shambles within twelve hours of mating in sky.

“None would believe the story of a non-physical conjugation in the plane and its relationship with my malady,” I said to myself. Taking analgesic only accelerated the pain and added to the misery.

Malun’s command was taking over my mind by the evening. “Lick the organ of your new wife,” commanded the queen. My murder was not enough for the avenging spirit of the Khasi queen. She wanted to see me as a perfect ram, licking sheep’s genital.

Her nonsense and rubbish order was complied helplessly without any protest. A dried up and choked throat and intolerable pain beneath the right scapula had eroded my strength and stubbornness to stand against the abhorring command from the active spirit parching over my head. All my trouble disappeared suddenly after the compliance of the order.

I lived for two weeks either suffering from demoralizing pain of scapula or licking the vulva of the teenager between opening my eyes in morning and sinking myself in the bed at night. There was no other option; there was no way out in my sight.

An ignorant mind like mine of those days was unable to figure out what had bedeviled me. Such a person thinks of God and his own sins under helpless situations and silent sufferings. One also counts his good and vile deeds in past for   carried forward sins besides talking ill against gods and revered men. They could cause unexpected wraths for suffering; it dawned upon me in the moments of stress during the two weeks. I couldn’t even cry under duress; I had to live with my suffering like a deaf and dumb. Hell was a domain of vivid experience for me on the very earth where I had to live day after day till a time not in my sight.

A day of 1962 was floating in my memory again and again during the second fortnight of January ‘89 when I lived without talking to anyone about my trouble or problems.

I was a young communist in 1962 that had just joined a scientist’s job after M.Sc. My contempt for all the religions was equal; and, belittling the gods was a fashion among communists in the service of science those days. A discussion among the young colleagues of the office in the autumn of ’62 was fresh in my mind still. Long after twenty-seven years I recounted an afternoon-tea when I had condemned all the religions, and their key figures.

Immaculate Conception  was ridiculed and the Messiah labeled as an illegitimate vagabond.

A revered figure like Raam of Hindus was assigned arrogantly a shadow-father for his birth that  was sleeping with the King’s wife. His real father was compared with a great political figure of those days, referred often as a degenerate and fallen Brahmin among the Hindus. As per a vulgar hearsay of the day, the immoral man had access to the bedroom of the First British Lady in British-India during the forties of the last century. Ram was a gift from such a fallen Brahmin like Jawaharlal to the then King of the land of Aryans, I had propounded.

Buddha was cited as an evident and more obvious case of an impotent father.  The chap was impotent and his wife begot a child from someone else. Else, who could go to a jungle leaving a young wife and a newborn son?

Worst hit among the talked figures was Bedouin Mohammad, labeled as Khadija’s slave. H. G. Well condemns the man for his unedifying life, vanity, greed, cunning and self-deception, I had cited the reference (2).

“He was the filthiest of all revered men for dragging the wife of his son to his bed in the name of Allah”, a young man   had interjected.

Such outrageous and obnoxious were the conclusions of my analysis during the afternoon tea of 1962 on the lines of communist ideology.

Did the blasphemy of 1962 boomerang to silence my virulent and anti-religious tongue? I was suffering and cursing myself for the misdeed against the gods and the revered persons.  This was beyond repair in 1989.

School of the teenager was in the building of a nabob adjacent to our office of 1962. He was a worshiper of Allah-Mohammad, and was dead and gone long ago. His spirit and  the Allah-Mohammad duo must be after my blood, I imagined. Possibly I have to die due to the fructifying curse upon me on account of blasphemy in young age.

Scientist mind of mine had collapsed under the crippling pain beneath the right scapula through scrotum, drying up throat and the stress of licking teenager’s vulva.