To murder someone else on the arms of a little boy, in the status of a little boy, you hit the nail on the head with what keeps us from being human to one another, what keeps our humanity at bay in the everyday meaning of relationship.
Nithish has a parent that’s me we didn’t put together by law or found by blood. Time did it, growin’ him up in my care, parenting him. No amount of denial can change that in this boy’s heart or in my shattered life. No amount of lies can make it undone. We are parent and child and more.
We are each other’s significant other in that our lives are undone in the worry over the other. Where do you see that? In his inability to concentrate solely on school, in his brooding silence, in his anger that’s at a flashpoint every time, in his antsyness and nervousness not knowing what to do, in his inability to sleep at night. These are just vehicles. Those around him know something’s up, have known for months now, and all the punishment you can give him can’t stop it, all the control.
You got a situation where you’ve gotten rid of one of the most important people in your son’s life, / a very important person to your life, even important to the school his goes to, and that was done in what amounts to murder in the first degree, where you simply killed him as cruelly as you did that: without any thought of goodness or proper action, cut me out of your boy’s life like he was holding the gun, and you even made him shoot me, and he suffers for that to no end.
You can’t say why you done it, just that your parental rights give you that right, and I have none, what it boils down to, whatever the dyslexia of the situation, the Sri Aurobindo, and you split your family doing that, made culpable his school.
Who am I again? A real live person in your life no amount of getting rid of will get rid of, and even if you actually did kill me, or send me off in space, I would be around your neck in plain view of that boy for the rest of your relationship with him, what you did to me and why so you can have him for yourself.
Can we rule of the heart of the matter? And the heart is a tough customer, and you feel it too. It’s what we live by, overrides every rule, shows itself as the leader of the life in every relationship. It can’t be denied, and even if you ignore it, it will make sure you can’t, and you can’t can you Sandiya? That’s why you control him so much. You know he wants to be with me.
He’ll be 13 in less than a week. I’ve been to every birthday that boy’s had, been a principle player. You know what he wants for his birthday. He wants his daddy. He needs his daddy. You are his mother, and that’s what mothers do, meet their child’s needs. Was he born from your womb and now you own and possess him, or are you really his mother? Well are you?
Anyway, I want to see him on his birthday. Why can’t that be arranged? That’s tonight’s show.
I’m a bleeding article from your last test, a hyper-hypotenuse. I say the line. It’s a dynamic field. We don’t get there soon. We don’t even see it for awhile. I hate to be the seeding can. I’m not celebrated in the streets. I can’t get my name across to change the world, but I tell you where God’s made, Mr. and Mrs. People.
God grows distant here. I am so tired of institutions. The institutions of marriage and family break our social fabric in adhesive bonds. We can’t get away from them. They test our social fabric with what can’t be named, a guttural possessiveness that puts us all in hordes. We tarry there eating each other alive. It’s needed for our ship, a family of parents that brings kids into the world. It’s not what we need to survive. It’s what we need to get rid of as the managing arm of society, as our social fabric dies.
We can’t raise kids that way: listen to me or die. My life you have made whole by your coming, and I will rub your nose in it all life long. You can’t be free from me where you go against my purpose for your life, my need you for my own ends. Society balks at this: give that child freedom to manage freedom. Why must he live his parents’ life? Why must she be the daughter of their destiny?
Why do we have to do this all the time: uphold the parents’ rights to determine the will of their child? Can you count this in terms of freedom? Step back parent and let your child play outside no rulers present, no supervisor gag models. Alarming this is on humanity’s plate: Big Brother rules the child just in everyday parenting.
The fear of outside unsupervised doors, sex resides there, doesn’t it? Your fear of sex rules the show. Your fear of sex rules everything. They get scared of their own front teeth we put sex trafficking models on them, a child molester behind every bush. They don’t know what it means to be normal with the fear the news media raises. Add that to their own possessive accounts, the parent that raise them, to guard that child at all costs from perceiving another parent in someone else, and you just explode at the seams with a child that can’t reckon itself, and they will grow up unable to handle society.
A new institution will make the new man. A small group of people family size will orchestrate the new human being. They still visit their families every damn week, maintain those close ties, but any kid that can relate a dream, old enough to, becomes part of a dream group their dream calls them to. This is a sadhana watch ladies and gentlemen, and a handful of people call its name. They are near the child’s home forming all the time.
It’s what society does now, spiritual growth. No clogs in the machine, children will grow up to change the world. A spiritualized society comes about from its own accord. It rises from the soul in things, and we almost see glimpses of it now. No government can put this in place, nobody that makes steps the criteria to get there, and no organization makin’ people do it.
I’m a sadhana watch ladies and gentlemen speaking its piece, and we’ve lost our youngest member to parental overreach, Nithish, a prototype of the new human being. His stuff is on the web for you to watch. His tale is told in these crawl spaces of his life. Jealous of the songs he was makin’, jealous of the music, his parents made a big mistake. They tried to take out his soul in great abusive waves that tore down his life. No reason for this except jealousy.
It’s heartrending. Their cruelty destroyed him, and he was left a nervous wreck scared they would smother him in his sleep. In such an environment he turned off the new human being. Betrayed by God, whom he adored, he stood helpless facing time a growing rage against the machine. Parental rights determined all, why I’m fighting for his life. You hear me now, don’t you?
I can’t do it anymore, just stand by and write poems. I’m a half today. The other half is his, and we make a whole of action. Finally, inevitably, we come together on freedom. Hear us Lord? It’s Your horse we ride the day we certainly dare, the day we certainly keep.
You were crying and trying to hide your tears. Nithish, do not fake it. Only 500 meters to where you’re home again.
You have some tears to show Nithish, your thoughts of suicide, your pain at the world, the unspoken madness.
Let it all come gushing out, safely, wholly, by pounding on your parents’ foreheads let me live with daddy! Now that’s the vehicle in the room. Come on kid let’s go. Now baby dog.
Dominance next undo. They lord it over you.
You want to come to America, and that’s your airport, your insistence on seeing me. That’s your offering. You give it to that boy in you you have not let the world see— I really wanna see daddy I can’t take it.
For about a year and some months, from the beginning of 2022 to October of 2023, Nithish, Mithun, Douglas and I did a post cast on the interpretation of dreams called The Dream Company. The podcast ended in our last recorded episode, Episode 56, recorded on October 1, 2023, which has not been posted yet on our podcast site but which I present here.
Two minutes and 51 seconds into the podcast, Nithish relates a dream and interprets it in regard to his need to live with me here at the lake full time, and we discuss the abuse that was happening to him at that time at the hands of his parents, when we had no idea what would happen in a few months time, that he would be taken from me and suffer much worse abuse, which he predicts in the video-poem Edge of the Game when he says, “Well, next time bad spirits of school Nazis.”
In interpreting his dream we did recognize that it was a prevision of the future, but we just did not imagine that that future was many months away and not days. That future that he predicted in the dream has not happened yet, as he’s not got the power he has in the dream, has not overcome the biggest bully in his school, and his mother has not brought him to the lake and left him here, all of which happen in the dream. We await it to come to pass.
I relate my own dream next in the podcast, but I interpreted it wrongly. My worry over Nithish at that time did not equate being smothered by a python, but now with what his mother has done after she took him from me does. By not allowing us any contact with one another, it’s been like having the life squeezed out of me by a huge snake; the grief has almost killed me. So my dream was a prevision of the future too, but I could not imagine at the time what it really meant until the events the dream foretells came to pass. That the Mother assures me at the end of the dream that I will be rescued gives me the same hope that Nithish’s dream gives me, and that is that he will be back with us soon.
That hope is further broadcast by muse, spiritual vision, giving the name of this video and asking what I’d done with things just the other morning at dawn. I wasn’t thinking about our podcast and hadn’t in some time, and I didn’t remember the content of our last recorded episode, didn’t have the slightest idea what we talked about in it. It just came out of the blue because my muse, which is a divine power, has the power of omniscience, and it knew what we recorded nine months ago and also knew that now was the right moment for the boy to hear what he needs to hear, and for his parents and everyone else involved. With that kind of magic supporting us, we have more than hope; we have faith given to us by the divine. Will the divine lose? Wait and see, but we can also ask if the sun is coming up in the morning. Do you think it won’t?
He just wants the people he love to be fair to. (vision of Nithish standing in the forest at a microphone stand and speaking into the mic) Life is a very changed little boy. He’s not gonna control. Will see everything eight thousand, which means he doesn’t see it as himself.
You gotta take the phone out of his hands and let him listen to you. You got a therapy. You can help it. In the interest of therapy you will go. Okay then, a PowerPoint presentation, you spend the night with me in the phone.
He had just been through a hard time for any conversation at all with him. I let him throw the other people in jail. A file said that. Boy’s not gonna go crazy and do anything rough to his daddy.
Just bury your head and see now’s not a good time. I vintage. We’re tired. It’s been my dream to have a mountain visit with daddy. I can’t get up.
They don’t go. They don’t leave him out. They guard him all the time. It’s impossible to see him wherever they visit. I can’t hear a car.
Did you make yourself useful? Not yet. See you soon Nithish. Goin’ to Kuru you’re not fondu, over? I don’t think so. I stay away from that plan.
Why is the son not supporting seeing me? What is that? (two visions of ugly, insane pictures of some horrible place) Hell my mother makes me imagine, my mother messages me. There is a want to see you gotten in.
Could not believe it, we are right where we see each other weird, but I belong to him. In a child’s mind three and a half months is a long time not bein’ with his daddy. He forgets the report. He forgets the love and attention.
Christ look ahead. Don’t overlook your eves. Does it take all day? I’m with you so much right now, watch your glow. (vision of Ramya, a young woman I’m a daddy to. She’s looking at me and smiling) You give everybody kindness. Give me your love and support.
On Monday the child never woke back. Come here. I told him tomorrow’s thinking about that does not measure our true love. Have a good day. I love you.
Go into the Earth tower, I have to maintain. I cannot see Nithish and that kills me. I watch his moods change from day to day. I’m inside his consciousness you see. He toys with me like a rabbit and then just puts me down and forgets about me for a while.
We achieved union together, and this is the price I pay for it. A child does not know your worth. They only see themselves. I can’t take this child anymore. I carry his pain all day. He just wants to be happy and forget about me. I’m too much trouble for him right now.
What evil is this a mother does to her child? No one questions the mother’s insanity to forbid any contact whatsoever, when she herself will admit I was good to the boy and did not abuse him.
This is killing his character, but this is India, and we don’t protect our children, and we do not know the damage the heart can do to a child that’s been made to kill his love for one of his parents. This boy will not be kind.
I can only sit here and watch it all and cry. I so want to help my boy. I am with him every minute of every day, and the sleepless nights just tear me apart, and it’s all I can do to maintain, and I must maintain.
Do you consider me? I’m a value in consciousness, and the same you hear from me I opened up in this boy, but that has been killed too, and no one seems to mind.
I love you Nithish, and I will not give up on you, and I understand your pain and your need to be a boy. I am a parent and I can take sacrifice. I just wish you could see me as I am and not in the stench of gaslight you mother has put you through.
It’s inevitable that one day you will. A demon can only hold the field for so long before the divine forces prevail. Do you see me Nithish? I am here, and I’m not going anywhere.
For Nithish it has to be longer than five minutes, and no mother present. What’s wrong with this? It gives him room to breathe. He can be himself again. He doesn’t have to obey his parents. He can see me freely and openly and clearly. He can tell me anything he wants. We can be together without any interference from anyone else. We can be our special relationship. I can explain things to him. He can explain things to me. He can tell me what he wants from me, and how he feels about me, and what he expects me to do. We can be together again.
If you are looking for total control, you’re not gonna get it, Sandiya and Sundar. He has needs that you are not meeting. In not letting him see me you’re only meeting your own. Why are your needs so much more important than his? You are offended that I threatened you with this and that. I was genuinely hurt when Sandiya brought a policeman to put me in jail. I have made no case or complaint against you. I have merely tried to see Nithish, because I know he needs me too, and to cut me out of his life like that, because you were angry with me, and allow no contact whatsoever, has brutalized this boy, broken his heart, torn his mind, and made him at times wish he were dead. He cannot tell you these things. There is not that level of trust there. He cannot trust you not to beat him, scold him, or tell him how he should think and feel. You are not on his side. You are on yours.
I am a parent of this child. Reality shows that not some legal piece of paper. You disregard that like it’s nothing. Take the time to view these videos, and tell me I am a bad parent, and I have nothing to give him that is valuable for his future life. I can give him things you cannot. You can give him things that I can’t. Why are you being so selfish about this boy? Why do you want to own him so? Is it a matter of pride? He’s yours and you want him and that’s it? Is it because I’m a foreigner, and we are all devils? Or is it because he loves me so, as much as he loves you, and you just can’t stand that?
What about his needs? That’s what I’m talking about here, and I’m showing you that I meet. I have asked you for time alone with him, so he and I can determine what we want. Are you afraid he will put you in jail? That’s not our intention or our aim. We simply want to be together again, and I’m asking for a first meeting to allow that to happen, slowly, and with everybody’s goodwill, not some final meeting where he’s forced to say goodbye, and you have pumped him with what he should say, and you are there guarding him so he will say it. Are you sure you know right from wrong? You are not being right here.
Let’s talk about the future Nithish. You have broken his heart, crushed the love of one of the most important people in his life, made his mind think badly about me, mean things, and you expect him to be a decent person, a good man? You have killed love, and you have killed his kindness, and you have killed his compassion. What can of man will he become? A mean man.
What kind of boy is he now? Is he disconfigured? How easily does he become aggressive, or angry? Is he often rude? Does he brood a lot? Does he get lost in himself? Where has the Nithish gone, that not so perfect boy before you took him? He was not perfect but he was a good little boy, kindhearted and understanding. Now all the bad elements have taken over in him, have they not?
I know you see a difference. Look at his weight. I’m sorry Sandiya he played outside here too. You can see the videos. He did not just sit around all the time. So where did all that weight go? He’s been very unhappy inside, emotionally upset, sick in his heart and aggravated in his mind, and the control you put on him, to keep him away from me, a boy just putting on his teenage wings, is enough to make any boy mad.
Why are you doing all of this I ask again. Did he do anything wrong? He loves a foreign man and prefers that hand to raise him over yours. That’s his great sin. He needs you he needs me, but he prefers the home that I give him, and I think we’ve hit the soul of your anger. You’re mad at him for that, and you hate me for it. So you punish him and you punish me, with heartache and mental pain. When will it stop?
It doesn’t stop. Time only hides it, and it not only haunts you for the rest of your life, it makes you angry and mean, bitter, distrustful of the world and of human relationship. I am quoting human psychology. You only know your gut-level reaction. Can you grow up a little, Sandiya, Sundar? Can you meet the needs of your child over your own?
Let us have a first meeting, the boy and I, our own private greeting, and then we go from there. It’s the human thing to do. Do I need to ask if you are human? Okay please let us begin, at the Mother’s balcony. Lidya can bring him. We can talk a few minutes in privacy, and I can show him his new YouTube video, and then she can bring him back. Then we go from there, like I said, in heartbeats Nithish.
Pardon the Tamil. I used Google Translate நித்திஷின் கேள்வி
நிதிஷ் சார்பில் இது ஐந்து நிமிடங்களுக்கு மேல் இருக்க வேண்டும், மற்றும் அம்மா இல்லை. இதில் என்ன தவறு? அது அவருக்கு சுவாசிக்க இடமளிக்கிறது. அவர் மீண்டும் தானே ஆக முடியும். அவன் பெற்றோருக்குக் கீழ்ப்படிய வேண்டியதில்லை. அவர் என்னை சுதந்திரமாகவும் வெளிப்படையாகவும் தெளிவாகவும் பார்க்க முடியும். அவர் என்ன வேண்டுமானாலும் என்னிடம் சொல்லலாம். யாருடைய குறுக்கீடும் இல்லாமல் நாம் ஒன்றாக இருக்க முடியும். நாங்கள் எங்கள் சிறப்பு உறவாக இருக்கலாம். நான் அவருக்கு விஷயங்களை விளக்க முடியும். அவர் எனக்கு விஷயங்களை விளக்க முடியும். அவர் என்னைப் பற்றி எப்படி உணருகிறார், நான் என்ன செய்ய வேண்டும் என்று அவர் எதிர்பார்க்கிறார். நாம் மீண்டும் ஒன்றாக இருக்கலாம்.
நீங்கள் முழு கட்டுப்பாட்டையும் தேடுகிறீர்கள் என்றால், நீங்கள் அதைப் பெற மாட்டீர்கள், சந்தியா மற்றும் சுந்தர். நீங்கள் சந்திக்காத தேவைகள் அவருக்கு உள்ளன. என்னை பார்க்க விடாமல் செய்ததில் நீங்கள் உங்கள் சொந்தத்தை மட்டுமே சந்திக்கிறீர்கள். அவரை விட உங்கள் தேவைகள் ஏன் மிகவும் முக்கியமானவை? நான் உன்னை இப்படியும் அதையும் சொல்லி மிரட்டினேன் என்று கோபித்துக் கொண்டாய். சந்தியா என்னை சிறையில் அடைக்க ஒரு போலீஸ்காரரை அழைத்து வந்தபோது நான் உண்மையிலேயே காயப்பட்டேன். நான் உங்கள் மீது எந்த வழக்கும் புகாரும் செய்யவில்லை. நான் நித்திஷைப் பார்க்க முயற்சித்தேன். ஏனென்றால் எனக்கு தெரியும் அவனுக்கும் நான் தேவை அதுபோல அவனுடைய வாழ்க்கையிலிருந்து என்னை நீக்கவும், நீ என் மீது கோபமாக இருந்ததால், மற்றும் எந்த தொடர்பும் வேண்டாம் இந்த சிறுவனை கொடூரமாக கொன்றான் அவரது இதயத்தை உடைத்து, அவன் மனதை கிழித்து, மேலும் சில சமயங்களில் அவர் இறந்துவிட்டதாக ஆசைப்பட வைத்தார். இந்த விஷயங்களை அவர் உங்களிடம் சொல்ல முடியாது. அந்த அளவு நம்பிக்கை அங்கு இல்லை. அவனை அடிக்காதே என்று உன்னை நம்ப முடியாது. அவனை திட்டி, அல்லது அவர் எப்படி நினைக்க வேண்டும் மற்றும் உணர வேண்டும் என்று சொல்லுங்கள். நீங்கள் அவர் பக்கம் இல்லை. நீங்கள் உங்கள் மீது இருக்கிறீர்கள்.
நான் இந்தக் குழந்தையின் பெற்றோர். சில சட்டப்பூர்வ காகிதம் அல்ல என்பதை உண்மை காட்டுகிறது. அது ஒன்றுமில்லை என்பது போல் நீங்கள் புறக்கணிக்கிறீர்கள். இந்த வீடியோக்களை பார்க்க நேரம் ஒதுக்குங்கள், நான் ஒரு மோசமான பெற்றோர் என்று சொல்லுங்கள் மேலும் அவருக்கு கொடுக்க என்னிடம் எதுவும் இல்லை அது அவரது எதிர்கால வாழ்க்கைக்கு மதிப்புமிக்கது. உங்களால் முடியாததை என்னால் அவருக்கு கொடுக்க முடியும். என்னால் முடியாததை நீங்கள் அவருக்குக் கொடுக்கலாம். இந்த பையனிடம் ஏன் இவ்வளவு சுயநலமாக இருக்கிறீர்கள்? நீ ஏன் அவனை இப்படி சொந்தமாக்க விரும்புகிறாய்? பெருமைக்குரிய விஷயமா? அவர் உங்களுடையவர், நீங்கள் அவரை விரும்புகிறீர்களா? நான் வெளிநாட்டவர் என்பதனாலா, நாம் அனைவரும் பிசாசுகளா? அல்லது அவர் என்னை மிகவும் நேசிப்பதாலா? அவர் உன்னை எவ்வளவு நேசிக்கிறார், மற்றும் உங்களால் தாங்க முடியவில்லையா? அவரது தேவைகள் பற்றி என்ன?
அதைத்தான் நான் இங்கே பேசுகிறேன், நான் சந்திப்பதை உங்களுக்குக் காட்டுகிறேன். அவனுடன் தனியாக நேரம் கேட்டேன். அதனால் என்ன வேண்டும் என்பதை அவரும் நானும் தீர்மானிக்க முடியும். அவர் உங்களை சிறையில் அடைத்துவிடுவார் என்று பயப்படுகிறீர்களா? அது எங்கள் நோக்கமோ நோக்கமோ அல்ல. நாங்கள் மீண்டும் ஒன்றாக இருக்க விரும்புகிறோம், மற்றும் நான் முதல் சந்திப்பைக் கேட்கிறேன் அது நடக்க அனுமதிக்க, மெதுவாக, மற்றும் அனைவரின் நல்லெண்ணத்துடன், அவர் விடைபெற வேண்டிய கட்டாயத்தில் இருக்கும் இறுதி சந்திப்பு அல்ல, மேலும் அவர் என்ன சொல்ல வேண்டும் என்று நீங்கள் அவரைத் தூண்டினீர்கள், நீங்கள் அங்கே அவரைக் காத்துக்கொண்டிருக்கிறீர்கள், அதனால் அவர் அதைச் சொல்வார். சரி தவறா என்று உறுதியாக அறிவீர்களா? நீங்கள் இங்கே சரியாக இருக்கவில்லை.
நித்திஷின் எதிர்காலத்தைப் பற்றி பேசலாம். நீங்கள் அவரது இதயத்தை உடைத்துவிட்டீர்கள், அவரது வாழ்க்கையில் மிக முக்கியமான நபர்களில் ஒருவரின் அன்பை நசுக்கினார், அவன் மனதை என்னை பற்றி தவறாக நினைக்க வைத்தது பொருள், அவர் ஒரு ஒழுக்கமான நபராக இருக்க வேண்டும் என்று நீங்கள் எதிர்பார்க்கிறீர்கள், நல்ல மனிதனா? காதலை கொன்றாய், நீங்கள் அவருடைய இரக்கத்தைக் கொன்றுவிட்டீர்கள், நீங்கள் அவருடைய இரக்கத்தைக் கொன்றுவிட்டீர்கள். அவன் என்ன மனிதனாக ஆவான்? ஒரு சராசரி மனிதன்.
இப்போது எப்படிப்பட்ட பையன்? அவர் சிதைந்துவிட்டாரா? அவர் எவ்வளவு எளிதாக ஆக்ரோஷமாக மாறுகிறார் அல்லது கோபமா? அவர் அடிக்கடி முரட்டுத்தனமாக இருக்கிறாரா? அவர் நிறைய அடைகாக்கிறாரா? தனக்குள்ளேயே தொலைந்து விடுகிறாரா? நிதீஷ் எங்கே போனார்? அவ்வளவு சரியான பையன் இல்லை நீங்கள் அவரை அழைத்துச் செல்வதற்கு முன்? அவர் சரியானவர் அல்ல, ஆனால் அவர் ஒரு நல்ல சிறு பையன், அன்பான மற்றும் புரிதல். இப்போது அனைத்து கெட்ட கூறுகளும் அவருக்குள் ஆக்கிரமித்துள்ளன, இல்லையா?
நீங்கள் ஒரு வித்தியாசத்தைப் பார்க்கிறீர்கள் என்று எனக்குத் தெரியும். அவருடைய எடையைப் பாருங்கள். சந்தியா இங்கேயும் வெளியில் விளையாடியதற்கு மன்னிக்கவும். நீங்கள் வீடியோக்களைப் பார்க்கலாம். அவர் எல்லா நேரமும் சும்மா உட்கார்ந்திருக்கவில்லை.
அப்படியானால் அந்த எடை எல்லாம் எங்கே போனது? அவர் உள்ளே மிகவும் மகிழ்ச்சியற்றவராக இருந்தார், உணர்ச்சிவசப்பட்டு, அவரது இதயத்தில் உடம்பு மற்றும் அவரது மனதில் மோசமாகி, நீங்கள் அவர் மீது வைத்திருக்கும் கட்டுப்பாடு, அவனை என்னிடமிருந்து விலக்கி வைக்க, ஒரு சிறுவன் தனது டீனேஜ் இறக்கைகளை அணிந்து கொண்டான், எந்த பையனையும் பைத்தியமாக்க போதும்.
ஏன் இப்படியெல்லாம் செய்கிறீர்கள் மீண்டும் கேட்கிறேன். அவர் ஏதாவது தவறு செய்தாரா? அவர் ஒரு வெளிநாட்டு மனிதனை காதலிக்கிறார் உங்கள் கையை விட அவரை உயர்த்த அந்த கையை விரும்புகிறது. அது அவருடைய பெரிய பாவம். அவனுக்கு நீ வேண்டும் அவனுக்கு நான் வேண்டும் ஆனால் நான் கொடுக்கும் வீட்டை அவர் விரும்புகிறார். உங்கள் கோபத்தின் ஆன்மாவை நாங்கள் தாக்கியுள்ளோம் என்று நினைக்கிறேன். அதற்காக நீங்கள் அவர் மீது கோபமாக இருக்கிறீர்கள், அதற்காக நீங்கள் என்னை வெறுக்கிறீர்கள். எனவே நீங்கள் அவரை தண்டிக்கிறீர்கள், என்னையும் தண்டிக்கிறீர்கள். இதய வலி மற்றும் மன வலியுடன். அது எப்போது நிறுத்தப்படும்?
அது நிற்காது. காலம் அதை மட்டும் மறைக்கிறது அது உங்கள் வாழ்நாள் முழுவதும் உங்களைத் துன்புறுத்துவது மட்டுமல்ல, இது உங்களை கோபமாகவும், அர்த்தமாகவும் ஆக்குகிறது கசப்பான, உலகின் மீது அவநம்பிக்கை மற்றும் மனித உறவு. நான் மனித உளவியலை மேற்கோள் காட்டுகிறேன். உங்கள் குடல் நிலை எதிர்வினை மட்டுமே உங்களுக்குத் தெரியும். கொஞ்சம் வளர முடியுமா, சந்தியா, சுந்தர்? உங்கள் குழந்தையின் தேவைகளைப் பூர்த்தி செய்ய முடியுமா? உங்கள் சொந்த மேல்?
முதல் சந்திப்பை நடத்துவோம், பையனும் நானும், எங்கள் சொந்த தனிப்பட்ட வாழ்த்துக்கள், பின்னர் நாங்கள் அங்கிருந்து செல்கிறோம். இது மனித காரியம். நீங்கள் மனிதரா என்று நான் கேட்க வேண்டுமா? சரி தயவு செய்து ஆரம்பிக்கலாம், அம்மாவின் பால்கனியில். லித்யா அவனை அழைத்து வரலாம். சில நிமிடங்கள் பேசலாம் தனியுரிமையில், அவருடைய புதிய யூடியூப் வீடியோவை என்னால் அவருக்குக் காட்ட முடியும், பின்னர் அவள் அவனை திரும்ப அழைத்து வரலாம். பின்னர் நாங்கள் அங்கிருந்து செல்கிறோம், நான் கூறியது போல, இதயத் துடிப்பில் நித்திஷ்.
This I put on my Facebook timeline and tagged everyone in his neighborhood that I am friends with, and I also sent it as a WhatsApp message to everyone near him I’m connected to on WhatsApp. There is still little chance he will see it. I am not Tamil, and that makes the decisions around here. His mother tells people they cannot give him message of me, even mention my name to him, and people comply. They are not educated or cultured, are urban village, are the same crowd that watched his mother pour hot wax on him to punish him when he was a toddler. No one corrected her. I saw her light a match, blow it out and burn him with it when he was three. I really got onto to her for that, and speaking to Nithish about it some months back, he told him that wasn’t the half of it, and he told me of the hot wax and how the people on his street just watched his mother do things like that to him and say nothing. So it’s no surprise they say nothing now. It’s just tragic.
For those who have only seen this one post, two months ago tomorrow my little boy, Nithish, 12, was taken from my home by his mother because she had made a sex video of her younger son masturbating, and I did not want Nithish exposed to that. He was there when the video was made, and I wanted to make sure that stopped as far as he was concerned. So I took my advocate to talk to her about the schedule of parenting. At that moment, I had him on the week days, and they the weekends. His mother had informed me some days before that they wanted to change it to he would be with me one day a week. I only mentioned the video in the discussion of our differences in parenting, did not say anything about it at all because she immediately began screaming to get out of her house, out of her family, and that she would take Nithish, which she did about an hour later.
She has not allowed visits, phone calls, or, like I said, anyone to talk to the boy about me. She keeps repeating that she will not allow me to spend one second with Nithish, and here in India, she has that power. Parental rights override the welfare of the child. He has been able to call me in secret to tell me about the abuse he’s received since he was taken and to ask me for help to get him out of there. I have really tried, and today I was finally at court, but only in the parking lot talking to senior advocate who may help. I am a nigger here, and please do not get offended at that word because, although I am not enslaved or beaten, it does describe the level of discrimination I face here in trying to to just talk to my boy. Can you possibly imagine how it feels to not even be able to talk to your child in a photograph, and I was there the night he was born, began parenting him when he was three, have been the main parent since he was seven. The pain of this several previous poems attempt to give some picture of. Imagine how the boy feels. That hurts the most.
This is an audio recording of a telephone conversation between Nithish and I on April 20th, where he’s had to sneak to call me, where discovery is near, and we both are very upset and frustrated. Please pardon us, we are doing the best that we can.
Central to understanding the poem below is not only the above recording, but also a recorded telephone conversation in Tamil between the parents, Nithish, and my oldest (unofficially adopted) son, who’s 30. In the conversation Nithish is made to speak against his will. He’s frightened and not himself. We had gotten a local police station to do a meditation with the mother. She came, and my advocate, my grown son, two cops, and I had a very intense discussion with her, and after we left, she brought Nithish and had him tell the cops that if he saw me on the street he would not speak to me, and that he did not want to visit his former home here at the lake.
They did not speak to him away from his mother as they told us they would do, and we were not told of any other questions that they asked him, as it’s obvious he did not just sit down and tell them that. I’ve discovered that they began by asking him if he loved me, and he said yes, and if he were happy with me, and he said yes, and if I ‘bothered’ him, and he said I did not sexually abuse him, knowing what the cop meant. I cannot tell you how I know he was also asked these things, but I know he was.
Then, in the phone conversation I’m describing, which took place last night at midnight, he was made to say he was happy with his mother and did not ever want to see me again, and that her taking him out late at night to allow him to drive the bike and buy him ice cream the first few nights after he was taking from my house was what he asked her to do, even though she never did this with him before taking him from me, not one single time. Lydia, his auntie, his mother’s sister, had told me she did this immediately after taking him from me, and she asked her sister what she was doing, and the mother replied he felt bad, and she was making him feel better.
The other day, I found out it was because he was crying for me, and I told Lydia this the day before the phone conversation I’m describing. She obviously told Sandiya, and so Sandiya is trying to cover that base too. That his mother is even having him saying this just shows how sick she is being with her son. In all he says on the phone, which is less than a minute in the conversation, it’s obvious he’s being forced to say it and doesn’t want to. Even if you don’t know Tamil, when you hear the kid speak, you know he’s being made to lie. I give you this background so you can understand the poem below and the tragic position the boy is now in.
Douglas, I’m flatten for a reason. I have evidence I need daddy. Something’s wrong with me only he can fix. Please daddy believe me. You’re accused in the yard. Come back to me now in front of your parents or else this may not end well.
Where do we put Lydia? In the phone conversation, and don’t trust Lydia. Bad talking to her. Trust Nithish on the phone. That’s his real voice, when he’s speaking to me in a private conversation, not the prompted speech. Going to the station, did Nithish make a complaint against me? They didn’t explain any class action suit. It doesn’t surprise me. It’s not gonna court. He loves me, and that’s not what they wanna hear.
All this money, who raped him? Who raped him? A voice recording you mentioned in class and the muse in a poem. That’s prompted all this drama. Tell me, what did Nithish say? They’re not stupid. They can get in trouble. They can get in trouble for mentioning things. There’s scared of what he said, Nithish.
When I’m on the phone with him, it wasn’t to take him to a liquor store. He’s giving me plans on how to get him out of there, out from under the control of his parents, who’ve done devious things to him. I tell him my plans, and we renew our bond, so glad to hear each other’s voice. What’s the Mr. Mystery here? That the boy calls me at all. His parents don’t want to believe that, but of course they know it’s true. What does it mean to them? They are forcing him to say things against his will in anything concerning me. He is afraid to tell them his true feelings because he’s terrified at what they might do to him. Can we get an arraignment here?
I was called last night and given a voice recording of Sandiya and Sundar forcing the boy to tell lies that he knows are lies. I’ve been raising him since he was a small boy. Our relationship grew into that, but they made him say they let him live with me solely for the sake of school, that I would facilitate that.
And other thing, my advocate, Douglas, Mithun, Nithish, Sandiya, Sundar, and I, sat down here at the lake and had a talk near on seven months ago. We wanted him here during the week, with his parents on the weekends, and we wanted to home school him. I mentioned to his mother death threats and abuse that had been going on, that she and Sundar had been doing to Nithish. She immediately capitulated and said the schedule would go back to him with me during the week, and with them on the weekends, but not home school him.
On the phone the boy was made to say he spent the weekdays with me solely to help him prepare for his final exams. These people are grasping for straws, change their story every time you turn around. Sandiya was saying, before this, she took Nithish from me because I took him out of school, because I had turned him against school, because I was a bad influence on him in regards to school, and I kept brainwashing him that he had dyslexia. What happened to that story?
Sandiya and Sundar you are a piece of cake. You’re not intelligent enough to muster a good defense for taking Nithish from me. We go back to a child sex video the mother had made of her son Mithrin, three. It was all in fun she said, play, no sexual intentions behind it, although it’s child porn on any scale you look at, explicit child porn. What do you do with that?
In a conversation with the mother and my advocate, I didn’t want the scheduled changed, and Nithish comes to me only one day a week. I do not trust those parents. I do not think they’re good parents, but I was not keeping Nithish from them. I wanted the schedule to remain the way it was. I had him four days. They had him three. I had him on the weekdays. They had him on the weekends. In the conversation I mentioned the video, did not say one word about it except Nithish had given it to me and had told me about his father doing the nature of the video with his little brothers. I wanted to point out that’s bad parenting. I wanted to say I didn’t want Nithish exposed to that, but I did not get the chance to speak. On mentioning the video, and her realizing what I was mentioning, she began screaming “Get out of my house! Get out of my family!” And she would take Nithish from me, which she did at my house on the farm about 45 minutes later. That was the reason she took ‘im. She thinks I was blackmailing her. We have her recorded in phone conversations saying that over and over. Now what do you do with that? You call a spade a spade.
Listen to me Sandiya and Sundar, I’m going to protect that boy. Your lies, your subterfuge, will not get in the way. You are not good to him. You are not good for him. He was publicly humiliated in his chair, and life, the feeling of life, you took from him. He is on the verge of a mental breakdown. You have split him in two. His one person with me and another person with you. You’re too primitive to realize that.
Now here’s the cat in the hat. I’ve been with that boy most of his life, and he has loved me dearly. That’s been public view. Oh amma and appa I never wanna see him again, what does it sound like? Brainwashing. Oh amma and appa of course I want to see him. I just wanna live with you and just see him sometimes, but I have loved this man for so many years. Of course I’d like to see him. Do you see the Hitler here, the Nazi brainwashing technique? Never wanna see me again? That’s not normal, after such a close bond for so many years.
Can I introduce you to parental alienation in this classic brainwashing technique? The parents are just being primitive, cavemanish. They don’t know they fill a type. This is happening all over the globe to children everywhere, parental alienation, Nazi in its underpinnings. Now here you can see it plain as day. What are you gonna do about it? Put a like at my machine? We need some real help. but first we need you to see this little boy’s in big trouble, psychologically, can’t you see?
I love you Nithish. We need to reach peace, and it’s been a long jump away. The message is You have so show your parents you love me and want to see me. There is no other way. The divine will not help until you do. You have to be bigger than your parents. You have to come out of primitive humanity. You are in the world to make a difference in the world, not to enjoy nice food and pleasures, like they’re the reason you live. You’re in a tomb Nithish, and you need to come back from the dead. You need to confront yourself. You need to be Nithish, unified and singular, the boy that you are, not a boy with two personalities you have been in this custody dispute. That’s dangerous.
That’s psychological trauma. I do not want to get you in trouble, but you have to be yourself Nithish, and I give the recording for that. Don’t blind it. It’s a zombie test. Your witness. Admit I mean something to you, and I’m an important person in your life. Stop lying about that because you’re scared of your parents. You are dangerously close to big mental problems. I’m the one who heals you Nithish, but you know that don’t you? And that’s why you’re reachin’ out. Now we can all stand erect when that trauma’s been put out. Do you get me baby dog? That’s the unit no strings attached, a true healing measure. You’ve got your record.
Dreams of a lifetime are not in your corner now Nithish. They have been removed from your seeing by your parents’ insistence on me being taken completely out of your life. I put the video for that reason, for your future Nithish. The advocacy is there. No, no I’m sorry, you asked me to put a man there to help you get out of there. He’s here my baby dog. Let’s listen to him. He’ll be there in a few minutes.
You can see the permission I get. Sandiya, Lydia, what rendezvous point? I have punishment for them. No they will not be beat with a stick. They will hear what they have done to your life. A doctor will tell them. There were three of us together. It’s me, you, and Douglas. Help me. Just a minute I’m pointing my post. I am not some stupid rule book out to get you. How’s he blues it? You may never talk to me again. You may renounce me. You may hate me, but love makes sacrifices, and I’m sacrificing for you Nithish.
You, me, and Douglas were a team. Can we go to America together? You think about that before you hate me forever more. I’m writing your best interests not mine. That’s what parents do. They give their children their life, even if it hurts them, even if they may never see their child again because of it. That’s parental love Nithish, and it’s where I find you in this poem.
You need help Nithish, and I’m showin’ people you need that in a love poem to you. Psychological damage, does anybody deny it? I love you so very much Nithish, even more than seeing you. I am only crying right now. What more can I say? I have hurt myself so much posting this poem. Would you please look my way?
Daddy’s afraid of Nithish. I grew up with this statement. I see the father in him wanting me to be safe at all costs, even where he loses me. Oh daddy I understand. Don’t be afraid. My parents have not killed my love for you, and they never will. I love you daddy. I wanna see you again.
It was a simple record come open when you know your child’s in danger. I’ve stood up for him. I’ve laid down my life. Is that parental love? No one will grant me that because I’m a foreigner and I love boys, what that used to mean before it was tainted. I gather you in the right way. I’m not a fiend, a monster, a smuck. I’m not an abuser of boys. That life has changed.
I love him in the meaning of that word, and there is no difference than the love God has for you and the love I have for this boy. Oh my God, the sacrifice of love.
I’m a helmet for him to protect him from this abuse, this psychological trauma that everyone’s ignoring that’s happening. I give you my all. I show you everything. I do not hold back. Will you please help my boy?
Right there in Kuruchikuppam, people are gonna be made to see they’re wrong. That’s not the way to handle life. There are better ways of doing it. You don’t hit children, and you don’t cover it with fine speech. You beat the shit out of them with a wooden board, just for mention he loves me, and then you talk about your excellence in him for education?
The sophistication of a mag doll tears apart your life and makes you sin. I am there to remind you. Oh sophisticated sister, I will show you to the world as the braggart you are and the bane of your children’s lives. You are not fine gold. You are a base and raw metal that crumbles society. I will take you down to your underpants, as symbols see society, and show the hatred and anger you really live life with.
I will call your name as the one that so traumatized Nithish, you almost destroyed his life. I will pick those pieces up and tarry him in healing waters, and take that aching heart of his and expose it to the sun. I will heal that boy from the trauma you gave to him. You took his own identity and threw it in the trashcan. You could not stand his preference for me, and you ate his life with it, so jealous of me you put his life out on the line.
This is the poem of her. I will get you baby dog, away, safe from her, or I will lay down my life trying. This is a sudden rescue we will do, as God counts the hours, and it will be legal and square with all involved. Kidnapping will not be justified here, and you will have rights to your child as he gives them. When he feels safe with you again, then he will visit you.
You know I want custody of that child, the legal guardian of his life. This is not take him from you as you took him from me, and it was in my house that he lived. You forbade all outer contact, even the slightest touch, no visits, not even for an hour, no phone calls, not even a message to each other. We couldn’t even see each other, best friends most of his life, and I am the parent that he prefers, why you took ‘im, and for that woman low, you will know the price of pain, but I won’t dish it out. It’ll be in your death’s star. You are the willow in the wood that weeps for long and sure, standing by eternity.
The cruelty of that moment you will feel as if it were done to you, and tearing your heart out of your breast, crying away insanity, in some death lesson after death, you will come to know this. The time that you took to change your mind, was measured in pathos of pain, where one single hour is insanity’s wait, crawling through time like death has your hand. Do you even know what you did?
Is this your son’s pain or mine? We put on a happy face and forget about it to all but inner eyes. I am the child of destiny, and if I show you my pain, you will bite me with it— the nature of a child weeps. Are you game for this? See it, feel it, know what you did. I will show the world, and you will see it in the eternities of your mind. Here, here, I reveal.
But not now you change your mind. You are too proud for that. You are too cruel for that, and now you call me names and a good man, who helped you like a bitch, a helping hand that always mattered, that you drew from left and right, my time, my money, and my care and concern. Don’t you think the Gods look down on such hateful ingratitude, and see you as nothing but that woman over there who dangers children’s lives, her own the point of pain.
I will see you there, in humanity’s heart glow, when we’ve made our long journey and brought it to a close. Disguised as sin and defeat, disguised as love, we walked the ways of the Earth. Now here we are in Heaven’s reach, but the heaven after the goal, and we will forgive each other the disguises we wore that were necessary on battlefield Earth. I will see you there Sandiya, one day. That’s the nature of Earth.
(Vision of Nithish sitting down on a bed in a room like his family’s room in Kuruchikuppam. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, head down and holding his hands together in front of him, elbows on his knees) As you get details of his life in here, alone in a room. I’m a little child. I don’t know the number of school. Lumber did that, killing every sweet thing I had. I was into long silences, and I could hear the room breathing. I thought I would lose my mind. Talk Nithish. What do I say to them? I will beat you you stupid kid. This was bouncing off walls, and I could not see the room that I lost my life in.
I had so much pain in my heart. My mother kept me from crying. She was an alligator for my tears. She was just some other room. I defied her for as long as I could. Then she hit me, everywhere on my body but my face, a flat board rainin’ down blows. I gave in. I’m okay with it. I’m fine with it. That is not the way it happened. I will do what you say I said in my mind. Then I forgot about you for a little while. You were there somehow. You wouldn’t let me go. I cried and I cried. No the tears had all gone. I was a happy kid they said.
I continued to support them, and they rewarded me for it with so much favorite food. Then the hill came. I climbed it to death, and that’s when I touched your face in an amazing dream. You were holding me in a chair at my old school. I was telling you about my mother, how she is. You told me about your tears. You had a hold of me like you’d never let me go. The comfort at that moment stayed in my room, and I carried you there. I continued to act like a little brat, but my road had found you, and I aloned to that. This was wonderful news to my aching heart.
I was wonderful there in my house by the lake, and I want to see my puppy again and get my life back, but my mother has said she will not change her decision. Move me toward the door. She can’t bury love. She can just torture me for it and make me feel bad I don’t love her like you daddy. I will see you soon.
He’s saying I will be there soon, in your house your little boy again, grown bigger by his tears. Now can we get him outta there, Sandiya? I’m holding you responsible for this. You’ve cut that boy’s mind, made him suffer so much pain because you are jealous of him with me, not because of school, or the love of Sri Aurobindo, what you tell people to sound nice. I have you in my sights, and I will not leave you alone. I will continue to rush you with the pain you’ve caused us.
You’re the pain of the old society, where kids were their parents wishes, no freedom for them, and they wore school around their neck like it was what they were worth, and their parents could beat them, touch them, yell at them and abuse them, and no one ever heard, and they grew up and brought a mean world into view.
We have a planet here, raising stakes. I’m gonna get that sweetheart, and with our poems and with our might, we’re gonna help bring in the new society and change life on Earth. This is not you Sandiya. It’s not me. It’s not Nithish. We are world carriers in form, the boy and I where change comes in, you the adamant old rule. I will see you in hell for this, and that might be sooner than you think.
A lost guitar, you’ve think you’ve kept him from me? You’ve only showed him more. I will find you, and I will tell you: give me that boy, not for my rule, not for my pleasure, for his aching need. You know what I’m talking about Sandiya. You see it everyday.
What kind of mother are you? And you ask who am I? I am the sustainer of this boy’s life. I am his protector and I am his love, and you will step aside and give him room to grow as I parent him towards a clear and certain goal: he is himself on wide green Earth, and he’s doing what he loves, not what he hates, and he’s doin’ pretty good. He’s got all of this going for him that you don’t see, and you speak like you know this boy, but you don’t even know me. I’m comin’ Sandiya, with the proper people next time, and I’ve failed and I’ve failed, but you know I’ll succeed. Here I come.
On the loud speakers this is a terrible story, and it’s showing Indian. They beat children. That’s her form: what a powerful might that can’t hold itself together and soon falls down. Sometimes art general. This is a heartache spotlight. There really is an abused child there, scared and alone. Lay down, come on lady, come on.
I will see you there Sandiya in the not too distant future. Wet means? Where our Earth meets the Sun. It’s the supramental, where that boy is found, and his emotional statement will bring in the picture the child, and that child needs help. This is infinity’s room, and we’ll have an upgrade soon, a golden opportunity. (Vision as the above line was spoken of Nithish at some wall in a city, and on the wall was a box of squares like a tic-tac-tow box but with many more squares, and Nithish wrote an X and an O in the top let hand corner of the box, the first two figures written on the box, and the sense was this was just the beginning) Let them be known together.
I am in my own city now. I have to get Nithish out of my consciousness or else insanity looms. I cannot carry him anymore. This is painful. I'm all out of sorts.
We have reconciled. He stood by while a cop tried to arrest me and said nothing. His mother had put the cop there because I had spoke to Nithish at his school, there to speak with his principal about the real reason his mother wouldn't let me see him, and I was concerned with her abuse.
As the cop tried to put me on his bike to take me away, Nithish was walking away and did not even look back. I had committed no crime, and so they could not take me in. Sandya stood by gloating, and then walked away disappointed when I wasn't nabbed.
The consciousness can't take that. It doesn't compute. I am finished holding him. This is terrible news. I had gone there to defend him, and I was worried sick over his situation. He all but pulled the trigger.
And I am left holding the gun. Nithish showed me a video on his mother's phone, which had gone to him. It was of his little brother masturbating, legs spread, penis erect, hand going at it. Sandya can be heard in the background laughing, but she didn't take the video. It's child pornography, but she said they did it in fun.
I've heard about for the last three years Nithish's father masturbating his little brothers, not diddling with it pumping it, for several minutes or more. He had tried to do Nithish, but Nithish said no. I did nothing with this information, except tell Nithish to say no. When Mithrin, the boy in the video, who's three and some, got big enough, his father masturbated him a lot, and Dhina, Nithish's auntie's husband, taught the boy how to spit on it and rub. Nithish told me these things. I heard all this, and just filed it away.
Dhina made the video, and now I'm left holdin' the gun. Do I shoot them with it? I don't want to hurt Nithish. So what do I do? I just leave the boy alone. I don't stand here and study him. I don't try to get him back to me. It's over. It's done.
Okay you've heard the news, why Nithish was taken from me. I mentioned that video to his mother and his father masturbating his brothers, to try and protect him from them. You see the results. Even the boy hates me, but I don't truly know that. Okay shoot me, public. I am the bad man here, turning that little boy against his family, and wanting him to go with me.
I thought I had a better home, and I wasn't his abuser, but you know kids are fickle. They hang on that family tree. I'm a nigger to him, a வெள்ளைக்காரன், and he just wants to be left alone. He's happy with the presents his parents buy him and the cater to his whim. And pain? Fuck pain. He wants his smile to be real.
So you have a masturbating video as the cause of all this charm that he's getting from his parents. They don't want him to tell on them, and they want his love for me gone. Well that did it, no word from him in days: daddy are you okay? what happened? I've been so worried about you.
He's just decided better go with it, his refusal of me. It's easier that way. Just ignore me and enjoy himself. I will never hear from him again. I can see that now. I've done my job, every possible thing I could do, to get him out of his parents' clutches and back towards the poet of the coming dawn, a destiny he had refused.
Now what do I do with this? I know the public you don't care. You would also have me arrested if you could. This may be my last poem. I'm throwing in the towel. We tried. We finished, and I failed.
Now glory in your self-righteousness, and tell me again you love kids. I don't believe that. Okay now I'm leavin' my little boy. You will not help, but I think I know what happened. He was totally afraid of his mother, that boy of twelve. There at the school she told him to renounce me and raised her hand to slap him. I grabbed that hand and pulled it down, and he did not give her what she wanted. She even put her hand over his face, so he couldn't see me. That's total control, and he had to go home with her afterwards.
What does a child do when the shit hits the fan? They stand there and cry, Ben 10 not included, or the Avatar and his gang. Nithish showed kid shock. He was just bewildered. He managed a weak head-bowed yes when I asked him if he loved me, and would he back me up. That was before the cop came. We were invited into the office to settle this dispute, by the principal before that cop arrived, but that Sandya refused. She wanted me arrested for defying her to see my boy.
We can't blame this on the kid. He's innocent in this, and I don't know how he feels now, but I can't continue hurting him and me. I can't love him like this. That little boy's been broken, stabbed in his identity, made to feel all alone in the world, put down for trying to hurt his parents, and at the same time they lift him up, afraid he'd tell.
What do we do with children, when they're in a bad situation, and our helping them hurts them more? We leave. We tear our heart out of our breast, put blinders on the soul, and just walk away. That's what I'm doing today. You with me?
Here is the address where the mother and the boys live and Sandya’s telephone number: +91 9384460042 64 Nettu St. Kurusukuppam, Puducherry, 605012 The street is only a tiny alleyway accessible from Advocate Chinnathambi St. Fourth Cross. On Sardar Vllabhai Patel Salai, a main road, turn left on Francois Martiin Street. Turn left again on Advocate Chinnathambi Street, about 500 meters from the Patel Salai. Go to Le Nid Apartments on Advocate ChinnaThambi Street, which is on the left where the street turns sharply right. Stand facing the apartment gates and turn right 90 degrees and you will see a little alleyway in front of you. Go down it and it immediately turns left and her house is the first door on the left. It is a very narrow alley. Time is of the essence. They are on their way to his father’s apartment in Chennai to avoid me. His address: Ashok Pillar 29 sector, 6th block Chennai, 2nd apartment building and the left, 1st floor, wooden door.
They spill your blood. They dust you off to kill you more. They know just when to sooth you and just when to bite. They eat you alive, and then laugh about it like they care for you, or you’re just not doin’ right. They lead you by the hand to amazing vistas of rose petals, a dire love, and then they cut your heart out in the very place they called you love.
This is diabolical. This is oh so sweet. You have some semblance there of hey hello it’s me; I am your love, remember? And those memories kill you because they’re insanely not there to make any more with you. You can’t touch that. You can only cry, helpless heaving cries that startle up your mind to insanity’s fallout. This touches you. This laughs at you. This enters your neck.
You are not there with them, that little boy you love, and he has lost his comfort zone, I mean really his whole life, to live in a shed with grey bones to sleep on and parents that finally get the chance to rub his nose in it: all these years for preferring me. Do you get the picture?
They torture me with that, the anarchs of pain, and his pain rends my breast and makes me want to kill myself because I want to shoot myself for his pain. What do I do?
I just sit here and tell you. No one will listen. We’re a racial mix, and I’m in a foreign land, and all’s people see is a red flag. They don’t know what they’re lookin’ at, and so they hurt us more, thinking we’ve sinned together as man and wife. The boy’s 12. You stupid people. That’s not the relationship.
We have love from the fountain of soul. I’m afraid this is as close as you can get, two people, and we’re suffering for that now. It’s there we love. It’s there we hope. It’s there we stand and face each other. You don’t mind. You only see yourself.
He’s forgotten about me. They try to tell me that. Oh he’s happy move on. But then I meet him in dream and vision, or talk to him on the phone, a forbidden enterprise he has to sneak to do, and I’ve found him again the lover of my life, where he was when they didn’t see him.
Kids aren’t all on pain. They’re not geared for that. Their mask just allows the public to see hey I’m alright; look I play and laugh and sing, but I’m not there you know; I’m inside with the pain, and you know I can’t hide it always, nor even very much.
So we’ve unlocked these doors, the Furies that punish us for so deep a love. What type of love is this? It's deep-seated parental feelings more than anything else. Can you get your head around that? It’s boy love without the sex. It’s a man’s embrace. It helped hold the world together in ancient times. I’m his tutor. I’m his love. I’m his friend, but most of all I hold his hand. I’m the one who guides him through life, and he is a spiritual arrangement. I do not love him if I abuse him, and that love starts my day, where I hold this little boy. There is no abuse here. I do not cut his teeth on silver diamonds.
Can a kid handle this? This has been humanity’s beef all along: you can’t take children and put ‘em in a box and make them obey there, protecting them from the world by protecting them from themselves. This is an ancient relationship I tell you, and it’s not bad, evil, or mean. It’s as wholesome as the night sky, as helpful as a forest moon. You can read us in volumes of poetry, and the boy has videos, and he’ll tell you about himself.
We have something new for the Earth, and integral healing plan that meets nature right where the Earth is, so the soul can express itself. We’re expressing soul. Do you hear that?
We don’t know how to arrive. We weren’t separated by parental concern. I’ve been his erastes for six years, a full on parental relationship. He mostly stayed with me for these half dozen years, but I was at his birth. He came into my life at one and a half, as this little tyke I helped take care of, and we have been doing this since he was three: I was a parent in the room.
Now you can take this and cut it up. accuse us of pederasty, but what you got here is two people in love, whatever the form, and it’s right relationship. I test you to go and see. We’ve left public record, starting since when he was three.
Okay crowd, we let the parents arrange this, with their hate and their spite and their mean, because they are jealous of our relationship? And are at this very moment forcing themselves on the boy, and he doesn’t want that. He wants to be home with me.
I’ve laid it all out on the table, told you the story. What do you want, social change, where kids meet bigger people, or do you want the kids to remain the same and do not change the nature of man, so we can become better people and save the world? I’m lookin’ you in the eye. Engage our social media, the boy’s and I. We will change the world.
Harm's End 