The Roots of Pain

No more Nithish, an empty room and bed
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.

The Big Stick

His YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/@s.nithish1830
A heartbroken line.
You just have to write this down.
There is no Earth and Heaven but you.
We glide here on our own devices.
We can’t see the world around us.
It’s blind to us too.
We can’t even see our yard.
There’s a process there.
It’s image on sight.
We have see things to believe in them.
Our fingers have to touch their face.
No other process allowed.
That’s the ring around the rosie for us.
It’s how we live.

It gets us in a lot of trouble.
We can’t always see things.
When people are away from us they’re gone.
We imagine their existence,
and it’s not real to us.
They’re not there.
Now tell me what to do?
Go outside and see things,
and try to transfer sight
to some bigger picture happening before your eyes.
Don’t just see your little world.
It’s gotten big enough
to swallow you whole.
We gotta get outta here.

It eats us alive.
It’s the only thing we know.
Can you see this?
Do you know what I’m talkin’ about?
We are blind before our face.
Our world is the world,
and there is no other
that has the reality of ours.
We can put this in a movie
or a sports field,
or maybe even a good book.
We feel something other than ourselves,
but we’re involved in it.
We’re still the center of the room.
Look at YouTube Shots.
They piece you to pieces,
this show, and that show, and this show,
and you have your favorites.
Where are they taking you?
They don’t know how to time.
They don’t stop.
You are lost there
in the middle of you.

I’m tryin’ to get to some larger whole
none of us see.
We’re divided up in pieces,
your world and my world
and Larry’s world.
Will we put our glasses on and see this?
It really sucks
you know when you lose someone.
Say you had a kid
and you’ve been raisin’ them since they were three.
At 12 you lost them,
and they were just taken from you
for no other reason than just to take,
‘cause you made someone mad.
Devastating.

It was a bubble relationship.
We were the captain of our ship
laughin’ at the world go by
we teammates, best friends,
together all the time.
We were joined,
and the world went by,
and we were so special in it,
so much comfort in each other,
so much love.
And then you lose that boy.
No contact is allowed,
and you watch that boy turn
like he never knew you,
and now he wants you gone.
No, no, I didn’t abuse him.
His parents did.
He was broken whipped and spanked
until he gave his parents what they wanted,
the keys to himself.
They can do that.
They’re Indian parents.
He was broken,
lost his will,
lost himself.
They spanked him,
and he cried and cried,
and I had promised to save him
and couldn’t come.
That anger rides.

What are we left with?
A quaking world.
Death would seem a happy state,
and I almost long to be there.
I want my boy.
I can’t take it.
There is no escape from this pain.
What do you do?
You feel pain.
You don’t know what to do.
There’s no way out.
Months ahead,
the death of a child.
There is no remedy for this.
I’m lost in him,
and oh the jesters of pain,
that kid could care less if he sees me again,
in just two short weeks.

Where do we go?
To death?
We have to do something.
We have to live.
We have to get up and live.
You’ve been fucked by the universe,
abandoned by your Gods.
All soul’s failed,
and you’ve got to find another life,
and you really want the one you had.
You’re stupid you tell yourself,
a fool.
Children are treacherous,
and they only like pleasure and joyrides,
and their heart can be bought with candy and cake,
and they forget you,
even when you were their whole world.

I’m dying in this pain,
and I’m just showing it to you
so you know of the reality of which I speak,
in some little lost world
forgotten from the whole.
To cut him out of my heart is blind.
That boy needs protected,
and he’s in a bad situation.
It’s an abusive situation.
I cannot abandon him.
I must go on
tryin’ to free him,
but the loss is too great to bear.
You see the predicament.

It’s going somewhere.
I am being perfected for him
in parental ways,
as he will need to be healed.
If he returns,
he will be healed
with certain hands.
I’m ready for him.
There is just this need to swallow,
this ever aching need
that he fulfill my life,
be its ornament,
and meet my emotional needs.
How can I get rid of this?
Don’t look at me funny.
You do it too
with children.
We are property lovers with them.

I don’t know how to do this,
and that is my lesson now.
It hurts.
Where do I find you?
In the lesson plan.
I’m reaching out to you
to be a lover with you,
to put down that kid a minute,
and let’s say hey look at this:
we are fragmented world.
Will you do the time with me?
It might be a pickup truck
that takes us all on a ride
to higher skies.
That’s where we think about larger things than ourselves
and the contents and people of our little world.
I’m pushin’ yah there
in my own flagpole
as I do this too.
Will you sing with me?

Will we be together again?
We come from afar.
This is not our home.
We’re on dangerous ground,
where the Void meets Earth.
There are doings here
that have us all undone.
We live out our lives
little people,
totally forgetting
who we are together,
the very next field
above this one,
the supramental field.

I’m ridin’ yah there,
journeying myself.
I don’t want to go.
All my thoughts on little boy
and what’s going on with him right now.
Is he happy is he sad?

Is he missing me?
Would he like to see me again?
Are they hurting him?
This goes deep.

Alright I’ve told you some
about what we don’t talk about:
look there’s a whole;
look there’s together again;
look we are bigger than what we are.
Have I reached out to you?
I can’t see it.
I don’t even know you’re there.
I think that’s a reality kingpin.
I’m alone in here
in front of all of you,
because of my perception.
Can you figure it out?

That is put to the finish.
Hey you got some things growing up there.
Tunnel things
this reality.
It’s trustworthy.
There’s no other way to see it.
We’re not real,
is that how far this goes?
Do you see what I’m gettin’ at?
Where is reality’s footing?
Where do we place ourselves?
In the center of attention?
I think we look higher up.
We look where it happens,
where reality gets arranged,
and we find ourselves there
watching the arrangement.
Isn’t that funny?
Here I am.

Suffer the supramental solution.
Sri Aurobindo
wrote his letters
just sittin’ there.
He didn’t see the disciples,
yet he knew they were there.
He didn’t have to see them.
He had concrete inner contact with them,
and he knew what was goin’ on.
He could see their own selves,
and he knew what they needed.

This was just vision to him.
No, this was the substance of his room.
He grabbed the whole with his own hand.
It was his messenger.
He substance see’d,
knew in relation to the whole,
and he could see without errors.
I cannot do that.
I have strong inner vision.
It doesn’t come
everything’s true
without errors.
It gets a lot of lie,
exaggeration,
and endless possibilities worked out.
I can’t see straight.

You don’t know how much this sucks.
I’m glued to inner vision
now to protect my kid
and bring him back home,
and it’s driving me crazy,
all these scenarios
played out one by one.
He’s been hit with a dog.
He’s been pissed on and raked
over an open fire.
This just kills me,
and I don’t know what to do.
The bad part is over,
when they broke him
to turn him from me.
Now they’re tryin’ to act normal,
and they want him to be happy.

Gaslighting is the order of the day.
What’s a kid to do?
Acquiesce
and be what their parents want them to be,
do what their parents want them to do,
and say what their parents want them to say,
and that’s what he’s doin’.
and I can have no contact,
and not a single person there will tell him of me.
It’s inhuman.
It’s a total blackout
they’ve arranged.
The abusers become his saviors,
and his beloved grandpa a foreign devil
tryin’ to take him from his family.

I was his main parent
from the time he was six.
Six years with me more than his parents,
and they’re gaslighting him
to make me some babysitter
they mistakenly arranged.
Okay public, what to do?
I’ve shown you his card,
a song he wrote himself
when his parents were pullin
and kicking him about school.
This is where he is at.
This is the boy on his own.
Where do we find him?
I hope that’s not the graveyard.
Can you come
and help me find him please?
I really need you,
and this is a live child
waiting for your help.
Can you help?
Oh Puducherry,
you couldn’t Aarthi.

Now there’s hope.
The boy’s alive.
How do I know he’s unsafe?
His father’s a killer for a Lawspet gang
with BJP connections,
but he hasn’t killed in awhile.
Says he’s done with it,
but see the gold on him you’ll know
he’s still involved,
a gold ring on every finger like a pimp.
He could kill that kid
in a jealous fit of rage,
and the mother’s of low character,
and she may not prevent him.
That's where this is headed.
Don't be sorry.
I’m calling on you now,
Puducherry,
rise up and protect that boy
before anything else is done.
Will you help me?
Can you take this boy to safety?
That’s wonderful.
Thank you.

This is the boy’s address in Puducherry, India:

64 Nettu St.
Kurusukuppam,

Puducherry, 605012

The street is only a small alleyway accessible from Advocate Chinnathambi St. Fourth Cross. Go to Le Nid Apartments on Advocate Chinnathambi Street, stand facing the 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 his house is the first door on the left. There is also an Ave Maria Kebi on the left side of the apartment gates.

Nithish’s school and he’s in 7th standard: New Modern Vidhya Mandir Higher Secondary School, 73/A, Pillayar Koil St, Angalamman Nagar, Muthialpet, Puducherry, 605003

His father lives in Chennai and has a business there and comes to Puducherry on the weekends. Here is his business address:

P. Sundaram
S.S. Air Controls
No. 432 Pachaivalliyamman Illam
29th St. 6th Sector
K.K. Nagar, Chennai 600078

This is the address they spend the weekend at, usually from Saturday evening to Monday morning. It is his father’s parents’ house:

17 Kaman Koil Street,
Ashok Nagar,
Lawspet, Puducherry.