I am not just an idealist. I have practical means in my hands. The conversation we need to be having as a humanity is not about climate change, or stopping war, or whatever pressing issue confronts us. It’s how we raise our children. We go to the roots of society and change there. It will take a long time to get a world conversation going on this pressing need, but we can start right here in Pondicherry and maybe Auroville too.
I would like to start a group with you to facilitate that very thing. We would need to have some sort of charter to present to the conversation, and then we push that conversation onto the news media and Pondicherry social and charitable organizations, and we would push with much force, using examples of abuse such as what Nithish is undergoing. There are five main points we press.
The number one thing we give any child is that they learn to love God and seek God in whatever form or name their soul chooses, and that becomes apparent as the child gets older. It might be the God or Gods the parents follow, but, as in the case of Nithish, it might be a different definition of God. (I might add here that is not the Mother but Supermind.)
Number two, the child is taught that they have a soul and that it has a purpose for their life, and it’s the job of the child and the parents to find that purpose as the child grows up.
If the parents are atheist, then they give their child the love of the highest ideals in humanity, compassion, empathy, self-giving, self-sacrifice, respect for the individual, self-respect, and sincerity to name a few. And the atheist parents are open to that child also loving God if that happens, and they endeavor to discover the child’s natural talents and abilities and help the child to express those in their schooling and in their choice of vocation.
Three, we define child abuse not only to mean physically or sexually abusing them, or abusing children emotionally, but also to include controlling your child beyond their needs to be controlled. It would also include not allowing them to see someone significantly important to the child whom the child loves dearly, grandparents, trusted adult, whomever. It would include what Nithish’s parents are doing to him, brainwashing and psychologically manipulating him to love them and not his American parent. He is a good example of the spectrum of abuse, and I would like to make his example known in Pondicherry.
Physical abuse will be defined as giving any physical pain to your child so to punish them or be mean to them. Sexual abuse will be defined as touching your child’s genitals in any context other than washing them or healing them. I have seen in the urban village of Kuruchikuppam mothers, grandmothers, fathers, grandfathers, aunties, uncles, and just people nearby play with the penis of boys under five, as a regular practice. Although it’s not now known in science, the boys grow up and disrespect women, and, if the playing with it is more intense, that boy will grow up gay or to be a pedophile.
Four, school will be more focused on teaching children to be good human beings rather than on academics, but academics will still be important. Nothing will by forced on them to learn, and their own will will be respected, and they will be taught to use their will beginning when they are very small, so they can control themselves, and their will is not broken by their parents or teachers.
And five, what characterizes our group from any other group working for change in the world is that we are holistic in our methods and do not condemn the abuser and do not deny them their humanity and their own healing. We harmonize the abuser into the process of healing, as a passenger, do not call for their punishment, do not use anger and hatred to deal with them, although allowing the abused child to be angry at them is part of the healing process of that child. We, the people facilitating the healing of child abuse, use reason and compassion, but in cases where a child needs protected and fast, we would use the police if need be. When the abuser and the child are ready, we will allow contact between them so that healing can occur. This is holistic healing, soul healing, how we heal in the afterlife, although this is still unknown. The Nithish Foundation will show the reality of this healing method to the world.
I call the group Nithish Foundation because he is the occasion for it. In America, when a new child abuse law is passed, it’s named after the child that caused the law to be made.
இதுதான் மனிதனின் அரசியலமைப்பு
நான் ஒரு இலட்சியவாதி மட்டுமல்ல. என் கையில் நடைமுறை நடவடிக்கைகள் உள்ளன. மனிதநேயமாக நாம் செய்ய வேண்டிய உரையாடல் பருவநிலை மாற்றம், அல்லது போரை நிறுத்துதல், அல்லது நம்மை எதிர்கொள்ளும் எந்த ஒரு அழுத்தமான பிரச்சினை பற்றியும் அல்ல. குழந்தைகளை எப்படி வளர்க்கிறோம் என்பதைப் பற்றி பேச வேண்டும். நாம் சமூகத்தின் வேர்களுக்குச் சென்று அங்கு மாறுகிறோம். இந்த அழுத்தமான தேவையைப் பற்றி உலக உரையாடலைப் பெறுவதற்கு நீண்ட நேரம் எடுக்கும், ஆனால் நாம் இங்கேயே பாண்டிச்சேரியில் தொடங்கலாம், ஒருவேளை ஆரோவில்லிலும் கூட இருக்கலாம்.
இதைச் செய்ய உங்களுடன் ஒரு குழுவைத் தொடங்க விரும்புகிறேன். உரையாடலுக்கு முன்வைக்க எங்களிடம் ஒருவித சாசனம் இருக்க வேண்டும், பின்னர் அந்த உரையாடலை செய்தி ஊடகங்கள் மற்றும் பாண்டிச்சேரி சமூக மற்றும் தொண்டு நிறுவனங்களுக்குத் தள்ளுவோம், மேலும் இதை நாங்கள் மிகவும் வலுவாகத் தள்ளுவோம். நித்திஷ் என்ன கஷ்டப்படுகிறார் என்பது போன்ற துஷ்பிரயோகங்களின் உதாரணங்களைப் பயன்படுத்துகிறோம். நாம் அழுத்தும் ஐந்து முக்கிய புள்ளிகள் உள்ளன.
எந்தவொரு குழந்தைக்கும் நாம் கொடுக்கும் முதன்மையான விஷயம் என்னவென்றால், அவர்கள் கடவுளை நேசிக்க கற்றுக்கொள்கிறார்கள் மற்றும் அவர்களின் ஆன்மா தேர்ந்தெடுக்கும் எந்த வடிவத்தில் அல்லது பெயரில் கடவுளைத் தேடுகிறார்கள், அது குழந்தை வயதாகும்போது தெளிவாகிறது. அது கடவுளாக இருக்கலாம் அல்லது பெற்றோர் பின்பற்றும் கடவுள்களாக இருக்கலாம், ஆனால், நித்திஷைப் போலவே, இது கடவுளின் வேறுவிதமான வரையறையாக இருக்கலாம். (அதை நான் இங்கே சேர்க்கலாம், அது தாய் அல்ல, சூப்பர் மைண்ட்.).
எண் இரண்டு, குழந்தைக்கு ஒரு ஆத்மா இருப்பதாகவும், அது அவர்களின் வாழ்க்கைக்கு ஒரு நோக்கம் இருப்பதாகவும் கற்பிக்கப்படுகிறது, மேலும் குழந்தை வளரும்போது அந்த நோக்கத்தைக் கண்டுபிடிப்பது குழந்தை மற்றும் பெற்றோரின் வேலை.
பெற்றோர்கள் நாத்திகர்கள் என்றால், அவர்கள் தங்கள் குழந்தைக்கு மனிதநேயம், இரக்கம், பச்சாதாபம், சுயநலம், தியாகம், தனிமனித மரியாதை, சுயமரியாதை, மற்றும் சிலவற்றைப் பெயரிடும் நேர்மை ஆகியவற்றில் உயர்ந்த இலட்சியங்களின் அன்பை வளர்க்கிறார்கள். நாத்திக பெற்றோர்கள் அந்தக் குழந்தைக்கும் கடவுளை நேசிப்பதற்காகத் திறந்திருக்கிறார்கள், மேலும் அவர்கள் குழந்தையின் இயல்பான திறமைகள் மற்றும் திறன்களைக் கண்டறிய முயற்சி செய்கிறார்கள், மேலும் அவர்கள் தங்கள் பள்ளிப் படிப்பிலும், அவர்கள் தேர்ந்தெடுக்கும் தொழிலிலும் குழந்தைகளை வெளிப்படுத்த உதவுகிறார்கள்.
மூன்று, சிறார் துஷ்பிரயோகம் என்பது அவர்களை உடல் ரீதியாகவோ அல்லது பாலியல் ரீதியாகவோ துஷ்பிரயோகம் செய்வது அல்லது குழந்தைகளை உணர்ச்சி ரீதியில் துஷ்பிரயோகம் செய்வது மட்டுமல்லாமல், உங்கள் பிள்ளையை கட்டுப்படுத்த வேண்டிய தேவைகளுக்கு அப்பால் கட்டுப்படுத்துவதையும் நாங்கள் வரையறுக்கிறோம். குழந்தை அன்பாக நேசிக்கும் குழந்தை, தாத்தா பாட்டி, நம்பகமான பெரியவர், யாராக இருந்தாலும் அவர்களுக்கு குறிப்பிடத்தக்க முக்கியமான ஒருவரைப் பார்க்க அனுமதிக்காததும் இதில் அடங்கும். இதில் அடங்கும் நித்திஷின் பெற்றோர்கள் அவருக்கு என்ன செய்கிறார்கள், மூளைச் சலவை செய்து, உளவியல் ரீதியாக அவரைக் கையாள்வது, அவர்களை நேசிப்பதற்காக, அவருடைய அமெரிக்க அப்பாவை அல்ல. துஷ்பிரயோகத்தின் ஸ்பெக்ட்ரம் என்பதற்கு அவர் ஒரு தெளிவான உதாரணம். அவரது உதாரணத்தை பாண்டிச்சேரியில் தெரியப்படுத்த விரும்புகிறேன்.
உடல் ரீதியான துஷ்பிரயோகம் என்பது உங்கள் பிள்ளைக்கு ஏதேனும் உடல் வலியைக் கொடுப்பது என வரையறுக்கப்படும், அதனால் அவர்களைத் தண்டிப்பதற்காக அல்லது அவர்களுடன் இழிவாக நடந்து கொள்ள வேண்டும். பாலியல் துஷ்பிரயோகம் என்பது உங்கள் குழந்தையின் பிறப்புறுப்பைக் குளிப்பாட்டுவது அல்லது மருந்து கொடுப்பது போன்றவற்றைத் தவிர வேறு எந்த வகையிலும் தொடுவதாக வரையறுக்கப்படும். குருச்சிக்குப்பம் நகர்ப்புற கிராமத்தில் அம்மாக்கள், பாட்டி, அப்பா, தாத்தா, அத்தைகள், மாமாக்கள் மற்றும் அருகில் உள்ளவர்கள் ஐந்து வயதுக்குட்பட்ட ஆண் குழந்தைகளின் ஆணுறுப்பை வைத்து விளையாடுவதை வழக்கமான நடைமுறையாகப் பார்த்திருக்கிறேன். இது இன்னும் அறிவியலால் அறியப்படவில்லை என்றாலும், நீங்கள் சிறுவர்களுக்கு அவ்வாறு செய்தால் அவர்கள் வளர்ந்து பெண்களை அவமரியாதை செய்கிறார்கள், மேலும் விளையாடுவது மிகவும் தீவிரமானதாக இருந்தால், அந்த பையன் ஓரினச்சேர்க்கையாளராக அல்லது குழந்தை துஷ்பிரயோகம் செய்பவராக வளர்வார்.
மேலும் நான்கு, கல்வியாளர்களை விட நல்ல மனிதர்களாக இருக்க குழந்தைகளுக்கு கற்பிப்பதில் பள்ளி அதிக கவனம் செலுத்தும், ஆனால் கல்வியாளர்கள் இன்னும் முக்கியமானதாக இருக்கும். அவர்கள் கற்றுக்கொள்வதற்காக எதுவும் கட்டாயப்படுத்தப்படாது, மேலும் அவர்களின் சொந்த விருப்பம் மதிக்கப்படும், மேலும் அவர்கள் மிகவும் சிறியவர்களாக இருக்கும்போது அவர்களின் விருப்பத்தைப் பயன்படுத்த கற்றுக்கொடுக்கப்படுவார்கள், எனவே அவர்கள் தங்களைக் கட்டுப்படுத்திக் கொள்ள முடியும். அவர்களின் பெற்றோரும் ஆசிரியர்களும் தங்கள் விருப்பத்தை மீறாமல் இருக்க கற்றுக்கொள்வார்கள்.
மற்றும் ஐந்து, உலகில் மாற்றத்திற்காக உழைக்கும் வேறு எந்தக் குழுவிலிருந்தும் எங்கள் குழுவின் சிறப்பியல்பு என்னவென்றால், நாங்கள் எங்கள் முறைகளில் முழுமையானவர்கள் மற்றும் துஷ்பிரயோகம் செய்பவரைக் கண்டிக்காதீர்கள் மற்றும் அவர்களின் மனிதநேயத்தையும் அவர்களின் சொந்த குணப்படுத்துதலையும் மறுக்கவில்லை. துஷ்பிரயோகம் செய்பவரை குணப்படுத்தும் செயல்பாட்டில் நாங்கள் ஒத்திசைக்கிறோம், ஒரு பயணியாக, அவர்களை தண்டிக்க வேண்டாம், கோபத்தையும் வெறுப்பையும் அவர்களுடன் சமாளிக்க வேண்டாம், இருப்பினும் துஷ்பிரயோகம் செய்யப்பட்ட குழந்தையை அவர்கள் மீது கோபப்பட அனுமதிப்பது குணப்படுத்தும் செயல்முறையின் ஒரு பகுதியாகும். துஷ்பிரயோகம் செய்பவரும் குழந்தையும் தயாரானதும், அவர்களுக்கிடையே தொடர்பை அனுமதிப்போம், அதனால் குணமடையும். இது முழுமையான குணப்படுத்துதல், ஆன்மா குணப்படுத்துதல், இயற்கையான சிகிச்சைமுறை, மரணத்திற்குப் பிறகு மரணத்திற்குப் பிறகு நாம் குணப்படுத்தும் முறை, இது இன்னும் அறியப்படவில்லை. நிதிஷ் அறக்கட்டளை இந்த குணப்படுத்தும் யதார்த்தத்தை உலகிற்கு காண்பிக்கும்.
அவர்தான் அதற்கான சந்தர்ப்பம் என்பதால் அந்த குழுவை நிதிஷ் அறக்கட்டளை என்று அழைக்கிறேன். அமெரிக்காவில், ஒரு புதிய குழந்தை துஷ்பிரயோக சட்டம் இயற்றப்படும் போது, அதற்கு சட்டம் இயற்றப்படுவதற்கு காரணமான குழந்தையின் பெயரிடப்பட்டது.
This manifesto is written to the Pondicherry and local area social worker Masil Johnson, to Pondy, Auroville, and the world, by Donny Lee Duke, May 25, 2024, Usteri Lake, Tamil Nadu
He’s read by anger. He says it beautifully and sweetly. I saw the changes up front. He’s just so confused, afraid. I feel sorry for him. It’s his lowest book, give you trouble.
He doesn’t know what to do with himself. I’ve already got complaint. Pound the report. He keeps forgetting the name of the trashcan they threw him in the night it happened.
You’ll do exactly what I say to waters, to water. It pulls him. He does it. He masturbates in front of his father and mother. I have a question. Why do they want him to masturbate? You would think it would be the other way around. It was. It’s soon to be pleasure house.
There, there now the father’s hand. You’ll get a rise out of me in a minute with this. After that he met the strong end of the law. Come help, and Sandiya slapped him as he pulled, pulls his red car. He felt his little toy rear end. He screamed, and his father pulled it by the roots again. Now, he was hysterical, and that’s how he got into the bathroom with his mother, and then she syphoned his little pony to sooth, golden fellatio.
Son of a bitch, this is horrible news. The vision is exactly what happened, all the ponies included, and we rest our case here. It’s too lost to talk about, and that boy’s underwear is scared. This was the opening for him to destroy himself. This made him blight his tears for me. He couldn’t believe it had happened, and he kept tryin’ to forget about it. It was a horror story out of Genghis Khan.
Now it’s on Facebook, and you don’t believe it. I’m sorry it’s true. Spiritual vision shows it, and it has shown it all along. You just didn’t hear me the first time. Now they put all of this on him, the surveillance cameras, the total control, the psychological manipulation, the physical abuse, so he wouldn’t tell me what happened that night, and that’s why, dear ladies and gentlemen, he can have no contact with me whatsoever, in any shape for form.
They do not know about consciousness. They think you can hide somethin’ they did to a little boy, and I’m in union with him. They don’t know about consciousness. They think we’re separated, and we communicate daily. The boy’s gotten fluffed about it, and is trying to ignore it. He wants to accept this abuse and move on. He has been ruined in character, totally humiliated where he meets the world, and is scared to death of his parents when they’re in their wrath. He will do anything for them, except tell me to get lost.
Okay now that’s you’ve heard the story what are you gonna do? Nothin’. We haven’t crossed this bridge before. You just listen to stories. No one will question this kid with the proper treatment. They let his mother rule, and she is not good to him. Okay Pondy it’s your stuff. You need to see this, because this boy died on the Cross so you wouldn’t abuse your children. Can you figure me here?
He’s a representative example of what you do to children, just so exaggerated so it has the impact it has to show you abuse is wrong. You don’t know about representative figures. They’re a holy book. They are like a Christ, and you need to see them so you can get the full effect. This is godly awful, isn’t it?
Imagine what it’s like to be one with this child, sharing consciousness together no holds barred, and then he’s taken from me and has this done to him, and I have to watch a helpless observer. I screamed and I carried on to advocates, the TV news, and the Child Help Line. No one would question that kid or even worry about it. I was a crazy lark that needed to shut up, but I’m an activist, and I know my stuff. This story has gone out to every major NGO in the country that deals with child’s rights and preventing them from being abused, several Pondy TV news channels, and every major newspaper in the country. This story will get out, when the election’s over.
There’s no stoppin’ it now, and I’ll be right there to receive that boy to take him home and heal him, because that’s what union does. You’re unified on oneness, and systems of abuse do not have ground of being. It’s a union story of love and kindness. It’s oneness’ story, the heart of compassion, knowledge of one another where the soul sees.
I’m sorry I’m teachin’ yah new things. You’re not good with innovative stuff when it involves the terms and conditions of our being, what a human being is, and how it tries to rise up out of human being into the next class. I give you there with this kid. That’s our endeavor together, to change man.
Now tell me again I can’t heal this kid, but the truth of the matter is that we’ll heal each other. I’m in the same shape he’s in, only I will take the lead because I’m his daddy, and daddies, my sweet audience, really do know best. Thank you Pondicherry for letting him heal at my house, his home before all this started, his place of refuge and safety, a place of loving dog.
And that, my dear friends, is where this chapter ends. Did you know dogs are with us to become human beings? The soul says this, and evolution’s its spur. That’s why they live in our homes. That’s why they’re our children. They have an appointment with destiny when they change to the higher kind, and for a mountain of dog lives they learn the ways of human being, until they become a Lisa, my beloved dead Rottweiler, and they have the magic of human being in their eyes growin’ their understanding inside. They have reached the pinnacle of dog, and our house raises dog, and that boy’s right in the middle of it, lovin’ those dogs and those dogs lovin’ him. Imagine how his dogs felt when he was taken. They’ve never seen him again.
We have the ingredients for healing I tell you, even in the notion of dream. It’s candy for us. What did you dream last night? And we all tell. We have a healing house, and we’re ready for this boy to return. Now Pondicherry we’re a prototype, and you’ve gotta be big enough to see it. You’re a big enough town for it. The supramental manifestation on Earth descended here first. You grapple with big things. It’s time you knew that, and it’s you Pondicherry, you, that replaces Jerusalem as the city of hope, the city of peace, and we’re here to help you with that, me and this boy. Okay Pondicherry, let us heal.
You’ll have to give me the man roles. What have we here? Look at this kid, strangely peacock even in defeat. Are you listenin’ Pondicherry? Tell me a secret. I get him smooth. You crazy person, you’re by the wall; I’ll try not to tell you to get lost after the election.
We are the soul rise, he and I, and I understand your concern, and I understand your confusion. Boy get it to become man, and we’re hit Pondicherry on the head of its going to school. Now laugh at that will yah, and tell me I’m a fool. You haven’t read his poetry yet, nor seen that strength of soul. Just sit back and relax and review our material. Videos, poems, and songs will knock your socks off, will do your head in, will be kind and gentle and sweet, every time you see us talk, but we will be loud, and awfully bright.
Now here am I in front of Pondicherry, goodnight. Hey, can I get you something? Do you need to cut us up in pieces and throw it away? You don’t need to do anything except go with the movement. We know how to ride the storm. What happened? You heard the story that they took ‘im and all that ensued, and I am his daddy, and I would like to raise him again. All sorts of thought we give you Pondicherry. One came in a dog suit. Vision of Luna. (vision of my Rottweiler standing outside near a wood) The wrong people have that boy now. You need to see this and make it right. You can see the future in us if you look hard enough.
Nithish and his daddy, now that’s an item. There’s no reason to fear that now. He’ll be at break tomorrow. The train station on Friday comin’ here. I’ll have to turn him in the grocery store, and toys, many presents, we let him have. He’s got a healin’ train a comin’, and it’s at the station now.
What an active young man. Who are you? The poet of the sunrise of humanity. Let’s move his truck, and he can express that, and I’m his keeper, and I’m his teacher there at dawn too. Please hear us. We’re the Milky Way. We’ve got good news, the colors in the rainbow, either in social media or every place you meet us on the street. That’s rock bottom vision. It goes like this: do you hear our pull? We’re a look out for human beings. Can I wash off the dog? Get it right with human beings.
Nithish is with his parents. Don’t say anything now. One for… (vision of Nithish sitting at a computer and his mother and auntie are standing behind him, Sandiya taking a photo of him with a flat, silver, square camera, telling him to pose, and I realize they are taking a photo record of him to compete with mine, making a sudden concentrated effort to do that to rival the photos I post of him) It looks like a photo shoot, and they’ve got the video to prove it. And there he is. I had no idea. Nithish you’re asking me a question: where do you divide the partition? As long as you’re careful not to do that, tear me apart, we wouldn’t partition ourselves. Your parents are using you for propaganda. They’re taking pictures to rival me. I took spontaneous pictures of you. The difference is tearing me apart.
You’re open to they put you here they put you there, like they’re doin’ it for you, and you give them that warm smile, thinking you have their business. It’s not the same baby dog, and I wonder if you can even feel it, so lost you are in their approval and validation, so far you are away from me. I don’t like Bozos, Bozo the Clown. Put that on the street.
Grace school is himself. (vision of Grace his Beagle puppy standing in a table chair on her hind legs with her front paws on the table) He’s in his underwear. He’s big and small and little and mean. He won’t take no for an answer. He’s not dedicated to you, and something happened that changed his mind. You did not seem relief. You were not there for him. You didn’t come, and you were crazy with grief. You wanted to see him so badly it turned him away from you. He doesn’t respect you. He believes the brainwashing. He doesn’t know what’s up. He doesn’t care to find out. You want to know if he’s happy and doesn’t need you. He can’t find himself. He’s alone on the inside, and if you can’t see sadness in his eyes, you can feel it in his heart. He wants to see you and need is comin’.
He doesn’t understand what’s happened. He’s too little for that. He wants so see you help. He has not gained by loosing you. His life is something forcing. He’s a painted doll. You are his flower. He just wants to sit and be with you, but he doesn’t want to see this too loudly. He doesn’t want to be in the garbage can anymore with his parents. All that’s over. That he doesn’t renounce you that’s okay. They just keep him from you, and the phone call the other day they got by. You’re crazy and confused his mind was their answer.
And now you’ve declared you’re gonna die to see ‘im, hunger strike. I’m in trouble. This will all fall on me. Hear him now? Is he worried about you? They don’t want him to be but yes. He doesn’t want you to die. Will he do anything to stop it? He would try.
Now all this bad news, that makes you feel so bad, is gonna change. When you see him again you’ll know you’re there, and he will remember past lives, and he’ll want it there. He’ll reveal secrets. He will be with you in every heartbeat, and this will open that boy’s mind to convince his parent’s of his need to see you. This is incredible news and will change the story. He will be yours again, and they will have to contend with that.
Is there a public on the way? It happened. The public got wind of this, and you’re showin’ it to them now. You’re in the Pondy poems, and this one’s the big one for their being’s worth.
He has my note. He has my seven. We need him to see you, and that’s soon. He doesn’t know which way is up. And you’re gonna show him Heaven’s door. (vision of Nithish sitting on the curb of a street and looking up at me with such open love) He’s the taste in your room. You’re his special surprise. He knows you’re comin’. Will you listen to me? This was our world, the great and hidden pain of death. And you’ve got me on time, before I forgot you. There I’ll see you on Friday. You make the test model fight too. It’s prevision, and it will become active soon.
Oh there were his plug pluses down there. There were him. “The samadhi of the Gods is in my heart water drops.” He will felt good listenin’. Have you watched your video yet? I’m not lookin’ to do that. What’s wrong with you? No contact with me, that and I want you to leave me alone. Two notes from the ranger. You are being awfully bad. We have to waste time here and I show it to you. Here, and will you come when they ask? I would go in a heartbeat. But you won’t watch the video? I’m scared to feel the pain. I don’t want to remember you. I don’t want to cry. Alright little boy, you aren’t the greatest little boy in the world, but I will see you soon.
In this poem, written from inner spiritual vision, meaning the lines were spoken to him on the inside, one by one, and I recorded them for him on my voice recorder where I record my own muse, Nithish is speaking to his future self, giving himself help about a tragedy that came to pass on March 12th, when he was taken from me. We’re not allowed visits, phone calls, and no one can give him my messages. They took him because they got mad at me. He’s had a negative personality change, and his spiritual vision has been replaced by nightmares.
Like dream, spiritual vision has vision of the future, and this poem will bear that out if you take the time to listen to it. As art and poetry, it will take more than one viewing to understand in its complexity, where, in each frame, there are layers of meaning, what is happening in the video itself, entertaining enough, and the poem superimposed on that, with occasional visions the boy had while the lines were spoken to him being presented in a ticker tape fashion at the bottom of the screen.
It’s actually a miracle and is a real example of soul healing, in this case his soul speaking to him now from the past. The video is now being viewed by the boy and those around him (or will be shortly), including his parents, and the divine muse of poetry, having knowledge of the future, knew when the video would be made and posted, at just the right time in the ‘death’ of the boy to bring him back to life, soul, and God.
“The Samadhi of the Gods is in my heart” means his spirituality is forbidden. His parents scorn his poetry, and he can’t follow the Mother and Sri Aurobindo. “I don’t like biryani I like burger.” He likes things American, which his parents don’t like. “I ask where is my dog,” his Beagle puppy, Grace, who he lost too. He lost all his dogs.
“Look back and you’ll get out” means that if he remembers what it was like living with me, looks back on those times, he’ll get out of school, school here meaning the school he is at home, school being a symbol for a child’s life lessons, whether they take place at home or at the institution of school. The whole poem is so he will remember what he’s forgotten under his parents’ intense psychological manipulation, where he lost himself. In this poem, which he wrote from his past to his future self, he’s trying to get his ‘dead’ self to see he needs to see who he really is.
“Bamboo sticks they use it to beat children in the school / and they use it to make sugar in the factory.” School is a symbol where he learns his lessons in life, both at home and school as an institution, as I’ve explained above. “Well, next time bad spirits of school Nazis,” meaning the extreme control his parents have used in this present situation, not the first abusive situation he’s been in with them, to get him to stop wanting me.
”Why is ice on fire on earth?” Our relationship has been put on ice but is aflame. “Gutter door is open. / Play along for awhile.” He did what his parents wanted and told people what they told him to say, “I’m okay with it,” but they can’t get him to tell me that. “Hold onto them with your breath, / knowers or brewers. / Mr. NoMore is out of town. He’s still holding onto to me, but his parents are telling him I’m a beggar, and I only want him to take care of me in my old age, and of course I’m Mr. NoMore.
The last lines mean that I recorded it all in my own muse and predicts that his story of childhood trauma will make a big difference in the world. The rap at the end, also muse and prevision, is a short synopsis of the bad situation he fell into when his parents took him from me. At that time he was listening to BoyWithUke.
Social consciousness we’re exploring here. This little boy’s showing it to you in the society he has with me. You don’t believe that we we share consciousness with each other. Here’s a poem that will show not only that, but that you can talk to your future self about that society you live in. An 11-yr-old boy wrote this, with an incredibly superior opening of the inner consciousness, magnetic, the very thing that you need to see so we can survive on this planet. In a spiritual emergency, you can write a poem in the inner consciousness to your future self, as this boy has done. He’s important to the world. You can count on one hand the number of kids that can do this in all the world.
Do you want this dead in him? It is right now. His parents have killed it. You’d call me a dirty old man because I want to see him so insistently, but your stereotype is wrong. I opened this boy’s consciousness, and we openly share consciousness together. We can prove this miracle. This is not the only poem of ours that shows it, because in poetry writing, in union with me he does it, and to have been torn asunder like this has caused our very souls to reach out for one another, and what else in him could have written this poem but his soul. Social consciousness, the first example.
Edge of the Game (Written October 2023)
Samadhi of the Gods is in my heart water drops. Like any other kid’s life my life is complicated. I don’t praise my parents I praise the Mother. Hot Wheels on the road, Boss Baby here.
Hah, I’m athlete, don’t fight me. Sticker bushes in the sky, clouds in the ground, study abroad or study up rod, my life is not stolen it’s in the safe. Don’t you laugh at me for a little blah blah.
I’m like a marshmallow. Can I really look handsome? Sinkin’ through space, Gandhi said you are a race. [two above lines heard sung] I don’t like biryani I like burger. I don’t vote Modi but I very much do hear melody. Garage of the forage, call me Mr. Poppins.
(I have a vision of laying wounded in a bedroom in a white bed. The Mother and Sri Aurobindo are near me and start meditating when I wake up, and I start meditating with them. When I start meditating with them, they give me a power stroke to say what’s going on, like by the power, like I know everything. I was told I could talk to them anytime I wanted, but I have to snap into my supermental body because my physical body is here on earth but my supermental body is with them. Then I ask the Mother for a poem to get out of school, and she says the line below) Look back and you’ll get out.
I’m thinking about leaving. The ancient realm is alive. Fate decides you, (vision of General Iroh telling me the above line in a Fire Nation ship in a vision) what kind of man you become. Rebuild the evolving species, hashtag flying away.
Earn money for doomsday, it’s in the eight sector. Betrayal is not good for God. Organize the pieces you’ll see what I’m talking about.
Dive deep under the water without a swimsuit you’ll see the glowin’ star. I see my dogs in the garden with the Mother and Sri Aurobindo.
I’m a part of the lily pond. Everything is reversed here. Pepsi or Coke a Cola I don’t know. Pepsi not for sure. It’s pizza time at the lake.
I shaved air. I’m a hill climber. Peacocks look at me weird. Do they see the shining sun? They have the magical eye. It’s easy for them to see me. I’m in the wild with them. I ask where is my dog. In the jungle I say. Why can’t it be in the plains, can’t it be in the house, can’t it be in the water, can’t it be in the hills, can’t it be in the hill climbers?
Sure do hill climbers climb that mountain. Well, I’ll fly to that mountain. I have the God’s eye. Maybe I can see the angel on top of you, because behind me it’s an organization assembled by the Gods and the God Himself.
School is such a pain in the ass. That’s where I get my boils from. School doesn’t pop it. My house pops it. Bamboo sticks they use it to beat children in the school and they use it to make sugar in the factory. Well you sure are making a way for the demons. Show me the certificate if you’re gonna hit a child. I’m going to God to talk about this. Well, next time bad spirits of school Nazis.
Please don’t hit my kind. You’re all a unified mind. Rhythm is not for music it’s for poets. I sure do use a lot. Why is ice on fire in Earth? It’s sure not like that in the spirit realm. I’ve visited that place.
Walk with honor. The ball’s in your court. Lay down the law. It’s not an opinion. It’s the whole world. Free angels in your mind. I’ve stopped drinking coffee, but I’ve moved on. It’s one or another. Soon he’s gonna get married. Everyone should learn to smile.
Gutter door is open. Play along for awhile. Treat yourself. Spirits go away. Hold onto them with your breath, knowers or brewers. Mr. NoMore is out of town.
Lily ponds are as beautiful as our inner. Record my fame for history. Business talks are not for me. Boy of the Northern Kingdom is about to wake up the whole world.
I fell out of my place for nothing to eat for I hit the ground sooo hard it hurt my life a little too far I cannot take it. I cannot carve through this mountain of lives. I am not so fine. The trauma I experienced in childhood I can blame it all on school, school, school, school, school. school. I am not a rapper. I’m a taper. I tape my life. The wounds can heal. My muscles can grow. My life can be a Christmas gift.
Get her to speak with me. Ger her to understand her fear of losing Nithish makes her abuse Nithish. She says she’s stopped beating him? It’s not a conscious choice she makes. She gets angry and loses control of herself and beats him. It’s her character. He will tell that.
Now, about abuse: she will not let him see me, even for a short visit, so to abuse him for preferring me over her. Yes momma I’m happy with you. What he’s really saying: yes momma I’m scared of you. Why won’t he mention daddy? Why won’t he fight for the right to see daddy?
I cannot speak of him in front of you, and I’m on his side. You don’t understand I cannot speak. The fear of you is so big inside, the fear of you mother, who has beat me, slapped me, brainwashed me for these past two months, so much so I cannot even speak, physically cannot speak, on daddy’s side in front of you. I am too scared of you.
Now Sandiya is this my muse talking or is this Nithish? Are you hiding from yourself the truth? Nithish loves you but prefers to be with me. Nithish is happy with me. He is not very happy with you. Nithish wants to live with me and visit you. These things are facts in that boy’s mind and heart, and stop lying to yourself about it. He feels that way.
When you make him speak against his will, you smother his identity and abuse him. Abuse is more than the hit of a hand or the handle of a genital. It’s forcing that child to do things against his will. It’s suppressing him own identity. It’s not letting him be who he is. It’s making him be who you want him to be. You are so self-satisfied, so sure you have his loyalty, but when you kept him from even greeting me, after two months of such emotional torment, his and mine, you crossed the line. He will tell on you now. Wait and see.
But why does it have to come to that? Can you just put a stop to your hate and desire for revenge? Can you consider the welfare of your child more than you needing your child? Can you do what’s best for Nithish? You know that is seeing and being with me. It doesn’t mean he’s not with you. It just means your fantasy that he’s your baby is not true. He’s his own self and is too big to be someone’s baby. I am a man, and at his age, he identifies with more with males.
His father has been a weekend dad all his life. I have been with that boy hundreds of days more than his father, and whatever you say about the boys I’ve raised, Sundar is a murderer. He has killed at least four people my advocate told me. What a role model for Nithish, and now he’s using his gang to threaten Asiya, to beat him up or even kill him, and you yourself Sandiya are giving that threat. What business is this for good parents? That is evil and you know it. Asiya did not hurt you, did not give you heart pain or grief, only helped me to ease mine, to do the right thing and help Nithish and I see each other, and you know that is good and proper in God’s eyes.
Can I show you a hidden example? A mutual friend Sudhan, you gave him a story to give to me. Call up daddy. Tell him you went in my house for a drink of water. Nithish was there alone. Tell him you asked Nithish about daddy. Nithish said I only love my mother, and I don’t care about anything else, a blatant big lie, a spinning web of psychological manipulation. Now Sudhan told me you had him do this to me. Imagine what you are doing to Nithish. This is just one example. When this is over, people will come forward with more. You’re being evil Sandiya, just evil.
You are willfully being bad, as bad as you can to me, for reasons I don’t clearly understand. You would kill me if you could get away with it. That’s how much you hate me. Is it at bottom really because Nithish prefers me to you? Is that the reason for all this hate?
Now pull him up on the carpet. Ask him to reassure you again how much he loves you. How many times have you done that? Do you chose me over daddy, do you chose me over daddy, do you chose me over daddy? He’s very afraid of you. He will tell you whatever you want to hear, because he’s scared of you, not because he loves you. You say if he spent time with me away from you he would change his mind. What does that mean? He would realize how he truly feels, and you are scared of that? You are not secure in his loyalty to you, are you?
In the eyes of God, please, allow Nithish and I to see each other without your interference, just for a short time the first time. Then we can go from there, and we can make peace again in our family for the children’s sake. It’s up to you Sandiya. It’s your decision. You hold the power for now. Will you do what’s right?
Hear a dog’s life. We question Nithish. He’s on the short end of the stick at home, the author of all these Facebook problems. He’s in trouble. He suffers so much for loving me. His mother ruins him for it. What can I do but cry?
Okay I have the strength of poetry, and I’m using it for Nithish. You think I’m stupid, a fool, just some crazy old man? I love my boy, and if it comes to that I will lay down my life for him to get him the help he needs.
He’s lost so much weight. He looks hollow and empty inside by the look on his face. I hear his behavior is erratic. He’s volatile and tells lots of lies. He’s not sure of himself. A personality change has occurred since he was taken from my home a happy and plump little boy. The mother is ignoring this, his state, his rapid deterioration.
To anyone that confronts her about letting the boy see me, she’s flies off the handle and screams at them to stay out of it, even to close relatives. That’s the mother he has. Now that’s Sandiya. Can you please help?
What happened at your advocate's office? He was threatened, when you came alive he was threatened. He had to obey his mother. Is that the real card? You thwarted her. You put yourself there not the mission. It was all your fault, never mind her cruelty.
Why do you allow her that? Why does she have all the power? You’re not being fair, and it has never changed, and I got no help there. So blame it on me, but You could’ve helped. You could’ve done something.
Why die? Because I’m lost him, and I cannot live without him, and it’s the betrayal of the universe, the betrayal of God. There’s a spider there. She believes it, does not see how inhuman she has become.
To not even allow you to embrace after all that pain, two solid months of grief? She kept him behind her and even put her hand over his face so you could not see each other when he tried to look at you from behind her. No one will show her cruelty to her. We just want you to feel certain effects, and We allow this.
Yesterday was your tragic happening, and you did that tragically. The list’s off the end. I know to pleasure that, so I know I’ve done the right thing. There is no possibility. There is no possibility. There is no possibility. He’s deleted everything except the system delete. Go in the freezer please.
Open your account. You’re a fish. You’ve got to give maybe. He needs your care and attention. This number’s strong. Please try later.
This is the stage of real power. This is the lonely winter stage. It’s about who’s going to the stationary shop and buying him metals and honor. I can do that. No, no, my hair’s growing. Lydia will fight me for it. I’m not concerned with that. I’m concerned with your future.
People this is imaginary pool. He hasn’t told me these things in the outer world. I look at him in spiritual vision, and I hear him tell me things. Lydia I think you’ve punished him for that. You have a primitive mindset, all of you, and you don’t understand the power of poetry. I have restored everything to show you. These poems here might be valued long after you are gone.
What that boy is is a poet, to a degree that most childs aren’t. Here is a poem that speaks of the future. It’s talking directly about Sandiya taking Nithish from me, and the way that we find peace from that, how to do it. It is written in poetic symbols. You will only recognize the last line as him talking about what’s going on today.
Read this poem and tell me he has no future here; this is the stupid babbling of a child; this does not show that he has any talent whatsoever; this is just a piece of garbage.
The argument I am having with his mother and father is over his future. I can give him American citizenship, a U.S. passport to travel the world, a university education in America if he so choose. I will not shove school down his throat.
I also give to him the status of a poet, not his future self, the child Nithish today. What is a poet? A person all honor and hold in high esteem. They write the culture and give it direction and meaning. They hold out their hand and presidents and prime ministers kiss it. They are the special meaning the world awaits with honor.
I give that to Nithish. His parents can’t. They are concerned with possession, rules, and school. I have his department. I not only know what he wants. I can give it to him. They know now he loves me, wants to be with me and has this whole time. They punish him and punish him now simply because he loves me. That is not fair. That is not right, and I’m sorry you have to see this, two parents doing this to their child, from waves of jealousy and hatred of the foreigner. Here I am, and here is his poem take us to the future.
Paradise Things With Lyrics by S. Nithish
Reach for peace, but it’s a long jump away. It’s One stairs. Butterflies are our airplanes. They’re peaceful and calm. They can fly us to space. From there we need to walk.
There’s a place for everybody in the world. I did two steps: let the Light be the guide; my place is out of this world. We all have something that we should pass on. I do not have a turnoff button.
The ancient minds were better. They left out clues for us. They left out clues around the world. We should always say thanks. Stars were meant to be together.
This is a photo of Nithish my advocate took at his office last night, May 7. He has lost so much weight, the hollow look on his face and in his eyes I cannot stop crying over. He did not look like this when his mother took him from my house.
I am very embarrassed to explain, but I lost control of my emotions in a meeting with the mother and the boy and my advocate. When she entered, she kept the boy behind her, using her hand to put over his face so he could not see me. I went behind him and put my hands on his head, and she quickly maneuvered so that I couldn’t touch him. There had been a second, when he was on the stars behind his mother, that he gave a week smile, but after that he pretended I was not even there.
The mother, boy, and the advocate went to the office, and I stood near the door, until they shut it. I could hear the boy crying and then the advocate shouting at him. Then I and my grown son was called into the office. I just looked at Nithish, who was trying to pretend I wasn’t there. I could not take that, and I began asking him to please speak to me, say anything but say something, and he would not. I asked him is he loved me, and he gave a weak yes, and then I began asking him about his mother hitting him with a flat board, what he had told to me to begin by in a phone conversation the very night before. He nodded a weak yes, that the advocate saw but not the mother, and when she turned her head to look at him, he stopped assenting. I told him that he had told me to do that, and he would speak, and he nodded his head again, and when the mother looked, he stopped.
I had pulled out my phone in the beginning of the meeting, and my advocate told me not to make a video. But then I saw the mother holding her phone like she was making one, and I knocked it out of her hands across the room. Then She took Nithish by the arm to leave, but I blocked her, telling the advocate that he saw the boy’s being abused and brainwashed, and I asked him to call child welfare. He refused. He physically took a hold of me and began moving me out of the office so the mother could leave with the boy, in a way that I could have to contact, even be near him. I was trying my best to keep her from taking him out of that office. I failed, and they left, and then I was severely dressed down for my actions by the advocate, asking me if I wanted to go to jail, and I was told once again, that in India, you can do anything about child abuse, not matter if it’s illegal or not.
I tried to explain that I am not India, am an emotional American, and that for two months I had been in severe emotional distress, getting calls from my boy to help him, and here I just could not not hug him or greet him, how impossible that was for me. I had to get him to speak to me.
So, it’s now over, and I am returning to America in the fastest possible way. I have to get away from this pain that boy giving it to me. If he won’t help, then I can do nothing for him. I’m sorry. I did my very best, and no one out there would help either. I never even got a single comment for support in any of these posts describing this tragic situation.
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?
I’m alone with Luna, her dog paws on my shoulder. This girl has watched over me the whole time. I’ve scared her so many times. My crying at night has made her feel the safety of hell. She licks me in my face if I am sobbing, lays her whole body against me, if the night is really bad, and do you know how that feels? That girl’s in love.
I can’t tell you the love of a dog. We’re cheated by the form. There’s an angel there, looking over their beloved child-man, their heart wrapped around the divine moon. You don’t know dogs, even if you have one. They get in there with you, closer in life than your children can, and they dream with you, and you have no idea how real on Earth this is. Oh she has been in my dreams, her and silly Bruno, watching over me, making sure they’re there, whatever happens.
Can you count this? Can I even show it to you? Rottweilers in love, a thing on the mountain, holding her master close, holding her master safe. The Gods see her and call her name. This is true love, and no one can match it, not even my boy, but it’s not returned to the measure she gives, and that’s the gift of dogs: they will love you even knowing their dog doesn’t get the count of human. You will see him soon Luna.
Oh she misses you so Nithish. You were her little boy. Their play would fill the night sky, lickings and squealings of laughter, playful growls and sudden swoons. Oh when you were taken by force from my house, for days she waited by the front door for your return. That dog carried your sadness for longer than dogs do, and I am sure, if we could see them, she’s been in your dreams too.
Oh why all this pain on Earth for us? It’s unbelievable. It’s real, and it was given for nothing more than for a little boy preferring his grandfather over his parents, all this hell unleashed on the heart of this little child, our dogs, and upon me. Will you please speak up and grant these parents the reckoning they’ve called for? Oh Luna, this is the pilot moon. This is the pilot poem, and I’m going to the moon in God’s love.
I will answer you tomorrow, when we have our day in court, with the testimony I’ve prepared, and what has been your art? That boy belongs to us by virtue of his birth. We don’t care what he needs. We don’t care what he wants. We want him all for ourselves, never mind the pain, never mind the torment that we have given our son to make him comply to our will. We have no heart in this matter. We only have our selfish desire to possess this boy, and why do we say that? So he can go to school on our terms and forget the call to God.
Now we will word this differently. We’ve been coached by our betters. But they have overlooked one thing, haven’t they Sandiya, Sundar? Your natural parental rights are not rights to abuse your child. Is that understanding? Is that clear enough? Take him from his grandfather because you fear he loves me more? All the pain you’ve given him, because of that? That’s punishment, because you don’t measure up to be good parents, and you’ve punished him for that.
I’m on the case a Nithish’s rights campaigner, and even if you kill me, or remove me from the land, behind that veil I will work, still continuing to free my little boy. No power on Earth can stop me, and only the Hostile Powers try. I’m a force of God’s will in his life and his soul’s expression for this lifetime. That’s why dear parents he has not forgotten me, you have not killed his love. God and soul arranged it. Do you hear that? You will in court.
You didn’t count on a speaker from divinity’s trees. You thought spirituality was a walk on hot coals in irons, but here it is I reveal the sweetness of the Spirit, and the certainty of its peace, now leading this boy to safety, out of his parents’ grasp. On wonderful, spirituality I walk the Earth. Are you aware of this Sandiya, Sundar? You don’t have a leg to stand on God’s ground. Do you hear God’s love?
What are you going to show that you are good parents, a video you let someone make of your toddler masturbating? That’s not good parenting, and it’s even against the law. Well, we’re here, right at the release of that video to the proper authorities. Yes you can face it as a family torn asunder, but that will be for the court to decide, when the judge is shown your film. And what will he say, Nithish belongs with you?
Have you gauged the strategy I have painstakingly laid out? I’m no stranger to danger. In 1983 with my Special Force A Team, I parachuted in Germany with an atom bomb. In 1995 in Old Jerusalem, on the top of Mt. Sinai, and inside the Great Pyramid in Egypt, I taped to walls and rocks and sarcophagi poems of love and human unity and redemption, the only way to heal human evil, full holistic love. Dangerous both actions were. I guarantee you I tried to change the world even then. Now you’re a little woman living in a little world, and you’re a man who’s murdered other men ‘cause your gang told you to.
Okay, God’s plan, would you be the people that carry that out? Out there in the audience, what would you say? You’ve been silent this whole time, except for a glimmer or two of hope for this boy. You say you love children, but you don’t. Racist and antagonistic, only children should obey their parents and go to school exam and all. Anything else is wrong for the child.
Okay India, can we see this on the world stage please, your manner with children? It’s here you need to work the most, not with rocket ships, airports and guns, Hindu society, excluding all passports but theirs. Changing your name, you can square one that out.
Okay India, I call you out. Bharat, India, the river of the Ganges, your children deserve better treatment than to be the property of their parents to abuse them or use them, and to have school shoved upon their lives, like is it the measure of them. Do you hear me India? You need to protect your children.
Bharat, or whoever you are, why doesn’t Modi sing this? Oh your parents reflect the mode of government: total control in the guise of I will help you there. Can’t you see this? You’re blind. Hindu is only your way to God, but you’ve made it your soul’s cage. One everybody, one is the nature of things. It is oneness not Hinduism really what Hindu means. Take your national election and say that. You wouldn’t vote BJP. I’m writing poems now, political, hear them? Take a scroll and paper now, and just print it out.
photo by Nithish
I’m in trouble. What balloon will show? Did you take candy from your little brother? No, my momma sat on her spoon. I can’t get help now. I’m being punished for you. You said some things. They worry. I’ve put them on hold, and I’m modestly arranging you now. They aren’t happy with it. They think I’m crazy. I think they’d like to kill me if they could. I hold all the monsters. I talked to you today, trying to listen, trying to sound. I don’t know the zeros. I don’t know the plans. It’s a weird bunch of consciousness my mind don’t know how to read. Are you listing to me? I’m giving you a message. I’d like to see your men arrive. Double click that. I’m scared of what you might bring. You might take down the whole house, but you might just come get me, and I give you my hand. Everybody’s so crazy around here. They’re all waiting for you to arrive. Can we see that sentence again please? I know there’s something going on with you, and you’ve scared my parents. They’re talking of killing you. What would I do to warn you? Easy phone calls make hard bread. I am so scared to call. You root around my day, calling for me to call you. I hear it in the sky. I see it in the trees. And would the river say that? I’m on calling you, and I try. This thing sticks in my mind, but the risk would just kill me if they found out. I’m sorry you’ll have to wait. May I have a minute? My little brother’s dead. He got caught handlin’ spoons. She rushed him to the hospital, pouring hot water over him. That was Varun. I’m not the only one who gets beat around here. No, it wasn’t his joystick. He grabbed somethin’ and run. I didn’t like the sound of him crying. Do you hear me when I speak? I talk to you a lot. I’m listenin’ for the muse. I don’t get it like I used to. I’m not the same boy that I was. Will you like me anymore? I’ve been crushed. I’m sorry to say that I have, and I’m not defendin’ myself. That’s what I don’t believe. Self-nature’s got a plan. They will hear my voice my parents, whether you’re there or not. Oh hurry daddy.
Sit down. This is system failure, what you do with your children that doesn’t put them first place, their minds, their bodies, their little wills. They have a voice you know, and you’re ignoring it. You don’t even listen to children. They are things to you to keep and care for and mold into your society. You possess them. They are yours. In India it’s abuse.
You don’t know what this does to a kid, to not let his identity speak out. It hurts him. It damages her. How can I show this to you? Their wills matter, their lifeline, their own personal destiny, apart from their parents, apart from everyone in the world but them. They are individuals, and that’s important. We’re losing the world that way, one damaged child at a time, who grows up to think the world is ruled by society, and the people there are its system keepers.
Who would dream to change the system, unless it’s towards more group think, more authority over our lives, more laws and greater punishments? We don’t go the other way. Even spirituality’s a drag here. It’s not liberalness I’m talking about. It’s a better society for all. Liberal ideas make plans. They’re not supposed to make everybody gay. I don’t think we know what liberal means. It’s not on the calendar today.
Can I show you my life’s worth come together with this boy? I’m afraid my poetry would rock the Earth, if you gave us permission to speak. I’m not the only one here who’s a poet. My boy’s become one too, the beginning stages, the starting out. Can we show you what we’ve done? It’s all in pages now. Start with Harm’s End and go to YouTube, not my channel his, and then you’ll end up on Twitter, and you’ll see him since he was seven. He’s 12 now. Unbelievable, your eyes pop out, the photography, the poetry, the one on one love out. You know I’m countin’ sheep. Wake up people, rise. It’s time we built a new society, and we start with our children.
Anybody argue with that? Go atom bomb the world. Keep on our present course, and we won’t have a world no more. Come on people, embrace change. I’m here beside you, and man I change too.
System failure the Dukes of Hazard (and I will adopt this boy, you wait and see) keep from happening with our poetry. Put it down to the divine word. India, you hear that. That’s our anthem today. Land it on student rose into the big house, into high society, into where we need to be, thank God in love. We are safety Earth.
He’s tellin’ me he’s not gonna learn Tamil. Free up your mind. You have a system reach in there and grab you. They own you, your parents. I am there to see that happen: you become your own person, out from under their control, under my care, because they have raped you with their control, not sexually, in the very heart of process identity. They have raped you there, and the court will see this and award me custody. I will not take your culture from you sweetheart. I will take you to America, and there you can be the teenager you dreamed to be. Am I out of line? I am right there with your soul in the situation, and I will free you from them, and put you on the right path to where you belong in life. To India you will return, because that’s your destiny, but in America you will put on your poet wings and learn to fly, and when you fly back home to mother India, the world will stand still a moment as the poet takes his station.
I will rise to that occasion myself here in my station now. Now I’m flyin’. Am I just a foreigner, or have I put on Indian wings? You hear the soul of India in my voice, and for that she allowed me be here. Wanna throw this away? I dare you.
photo by Douglas
To change Indian, what it means to change the rocket ship of the Earth. India needs her spirituality, not her religion, to give the world the means to change. You are the example for us all. It’s not America. It’s India, where the change begins, right there with your children, giving them the freedom to live what their soul purpose put them here for, what there for them God has arranged. You don’t put parental rights in that slot. Oh seer, begin with the child.
Have I reached your understanding? This is world business. We’re not here to make guns, run the profit, or put our mark on the moon, although we do have a moon purpose. We’re here to unfold our souls on planet Earth, what it means to be human in the vulnerability of our craft, where sincerity is the order of the day, and love goes round to all. Would you argue with that? What kind of world do you want? A seership asks that question. Can you put on this music. Okay let’s ride.
It’s business bottom line now, but start with the children and that will change. Are you seein’ this baby dog? My wonderful little boy, that’s why you’ve come. You’re gonna stand up for children, and you’ve walked through hell to get there. It’s not because you’re bad sweetheart they’ve taken down your life. You need to know the price of suffering in a little boy’s heart and mind, so you can rise to your purpose. If you did not know folly you could not heal folly. If you did not know the child’s fall their parents make, you couldn’t help one child up. Congratulations my sweet little boy, you’ve won. Hey Nithish, you’re free. I wrote to see you in the morning. You know we’ll be together soon.
This is not Auschwitz, but you’re hangin’ in your home on your parents’ rope. Pleasures, punishments, they mixed the two, so they can say look, he’s smiling, everything’s okay, but it’s not is it? Scared to death you call me and tell me of your woes. I’m not making any of this up. Okay this is the rescue I promised from the beginning. It’s here. I’ve come. Let’s see your parents’ love for you. Will they make this go to court, stubbornly in their pride? Or will they see wisdom and release you into your fuller life? Okay I’ve put the question. I’ve wrote the poem. Sandiya, Sundar, do you want your family torn apart? No court is necessary. He just comes with me, and you will see him I promise, as often as he like. Even from America he can come and visit you. So what do you choose, a family torn asunder in a court’s by law decree, or your boy granted freedom to be what he was meant to be? You choose. I’m waiting.
Now Nithish, do your part, and stand up to your parents, with respect and consideration, but not with giving in, and tell them what you need, not what they want to hear. You have been put on Earth for this. If you can’t do this, what child can? Loud and clearly tell them they’ve hurt you and please stop. I go back to my grandfather now. They’ll hear you, if they love you, and you’ll come back to me. Do it fast. There’s so much danger on our road. Are you listenin’? We’ve miracled consciousness you and I, and yes you are. Let the mountains sing. You hear me on the inside.
I love the sweet sound of music a racin’ to me on the inside from this boy’s consciousness. Can you do that? We can. You’re gonna see this out, our special love, [above line heard sung by the Bee Gees, to tune of “Too Much Heaven”] and you’re gonna know the world can change. We’re gonna world this out. Come on play with me. In prevision see what this boy’s told me, his voice from the past, to help me guide him out of this prisonhood with his parents. You’re not gonna believe it, but you’re gonna see it. A bonafide miracle YouTube channel. His last two videos, check them out. That’s S. Nithish, and we’ll change the world now. Got it sweetheart? Good, I’ll be there to pick you up soon. Gee whiz, what a message poem, and it’s right on the edge of the Earth, turnin’ towards the Sun. That’s what we do together, I love you.
Get it spiritual, not religion. Glory hallelujah that’s plan. Can I show you the inner process? I’m right around the corner, Bharat India. Seership said that. That’s all I’m doin’, focused on that kid. See the results. Grow the rays to test an experiment: can we connect with each other in consciousness, when outer contact’s not there, or very nearly none, if our love is pure, and the need is there, and the bond is there? He needs to be rescued. I need to see it done. I practiced so much with dogs first, my beloved Lisa, my dead Rottweiler, and now with Luna and our other dogs. You would not believe the inner contact in consciousness you can have with your pets. You turn that up a notch when it’s with your child, but there’s danger here. It can’t be for control or manipulation, and that soul has to let you in, and you soul has to say okay, and divine beings will be around to help. Oh my God they see you here. And Hostile Powers will be there to slay. And behind it all God is just really talkin’ to Himself. Do you get that meaning? The consciousness speaks. I think I raised the barn. In any event, success in experiment. We really accomplish it, navigating human inside, and the soul agrees.
There’s a perplexing. There’s a shared field of consciousness between these two. You have to be alive with the program to see it. Question both of them, you will find it out. It’s hiddenly there. The videos are just one example. They get it all day long. It’s not bad it’s good, and it’s humanity. Tear it asunder? What’s you’re lookin’ at is the future of mankind. You will throw that away, if you can’t understand it’s true. We share consciousness together, the whole human race. What a good society. What a good story. Deliver it to delivery.
photo by Douglas
We made each other laugh. That was the mystic advocating for himself. You know it’s there from their crying pain. They longed for each other. They lunged for each other, and they found each other deep inside the other’s consciousness. You’ve never seen this before. It’s what we’re lookin’ at. It’s how we square ourselves away. You know you’re your brother’s keeper, and Heaven and Earth will not stop you from being that. You know. It’s how we survive. We find this out.
Can I please have my MTV? Okay, let these boys be together. It’s weird. It’s strange. It’s huge, but it’s how we get there: we become each other’s consciousness. Now you see it. Now you don’t, but you’ll learn it’s there enough practice. It’s amazing to look at, and here is amazing for you. It’s a field of love, and you cannot deny love, if it’s real love, no matter what you do. These parents tried. They failed, and they went to extremes to do so, and they punished the boy for their failure. How’s that for mean? Are you gonna do the same thing? They need to be together now. Don’t be his parents. They got mean. Just let ‘em go, be together, and see what they do. The world has never seen it before, a man and a boy, and a couple too, changing the whereabouts of being human in the direction of love. You got a problem with that? I didn’t think so. Give them their space. They need it. We balloon together.
His mother’s paradise law, you need to understand it’s not how the system works. She almost killed him for it. Don’t let her do it again. Protect this boy from her emotional dependency, her manipulation, her control. That’s child abuse India, and you need to see it. That’s what this boy went through. Now let’s go, the man and boy see each other again. She almost tore him asunder with that. She took away his life, his love, his dogs, his everything, just so she could eat him alive. Are you good with that? I didn’t think so. Now he needs healed from that abuse, that squashing of his identity, that day and night tirade to make him love her and forget this man. Why on Earth would you not let this man heal him?
I’ve got in in store, and it’s a simple equation: I meet his needs over mine. I give him a safe place to start his life over again. I give him his beloved dogs. Is anybody worried about what they went through? I give him his space to be himself. I don’t put rules on him to keep him to me or curtail his growth. I teach him myself his homeschool, and I will broaden his horizons with this teacher and that place, and these children, to give him the fellowship he needs, the other input than mine, and the interesting lands ahead. I’ve got it covered. Will you let me heal him? That’s what we’re doin’ here. That’s why I’ve called you all to this poem.
Okay it’s the strangest thing you’re lookin’ at. It’s the inner voice, how directed and true. Why would you go back to business as usual? Because you can’t take the new? He’s real, and he’s right here. Would you please question that boy about child abuse? He’s waitin’. He’s ready. He’s told me to tell you to come. Get him away from his mother and protect him afterwards. She will destroy him for it, and you have more than one crime there. Find them out, crimes against a child. Is that okay with you? Now go, get this boy. Talk to him. Get him to his man and let him be healed. Why would the system do it? It was the system did this to him, and we’re here today for system change. That’s on the record. It’s on the menu today.
Why lift the boundaries? (vision with the line of a wave of birds, thousands of them, coming up from the ground and into the sky in one solid waterfall-like movement but going up. This happened as I was sitting on a park bench) To go through life together under the Sun. To be ourselves with other people, but ourselves alone too. To give that boy what he needs, and he needs an involved I love you son wrapped around me. To change the world. We’re not messin’ around.
Now have we been put on hold, for the umpteenth time? Will I awake? Call me, senior advocate. Very closely nearly there. You better let me. I’ll delete everything, and you got your seer no more. What is it, a love reaction? You’ve betrayed the very essence of reality in my fundamental makeup, in my fundamental see, if we don’t come together, and I will know that the world is a fucked place we’re doomed.
And if we set ‘em sir, and if they’re not here, what is their placement? You can sit us in your organizing society, and we will show you where we rose. We’ll be here master plan.
I’m getting close I can’t stay yours. I’m a learning disability. Daddy do something about that girl. (vision with the line of a big man walking beside me with a black beetle in his mouth, and he was choking on it, and I was slapping his back to get it out) You’re dyslexic that’s okay. Your mother can’t punish that no more. I will take you with me, and you can be dyslexic in my school. I love you so very much. Next week, I promise.
Start happening! Start happening! I looked at it, [this line and the two above lines heard spoken in Nithish’s voice] and exactly as you said it happened. I want to know what your vision was. Momma laid her feet on me. All’s I could feel was our deep, undying love taking me to the lake. I will be there soon.
You will paint some rosy picture that I am to blame. I’m a Facebook mob. Oh I’m sorry, seven views. On WordPress there’s two. And Nithish, I see him now. His mother has replaced me, and he let her do it. The hugs, the kisses, the warm rubs, the excited talk about this and that, that woman who beat him has replaced me, and he’s happy with it. I can see the treatment. He’s a baby Sandiya told me on the phone. She’s gettin’ her juice. Before she would not even admit he was still a child.
Okay they go together. What am I still doing here? What the fuck, over? You have replaced all my lands. You have taken my very child and given that place I have with him to someone else, and they beat him and they slap him, and they lord it over his life. What more do you want from me? Why do I have to see that?
I have been betrayed in the sense of my stuff, by a little boy that took all of my heart and always wanted more. Where is release from this? He’s still won’t speak my name to his parents. Get that, won’t even say he wants to see me, the love of his life for all these years. What blackness is in the heart of children? What cruelty lurks behind their touch, wizziles with you in their face?
This is blind cruelty. The boy just wants to get by. To hell with me, as long as he gets his good food and bag of sweets and special treatment. He’s cast me aside, and I made so much noise, whenever he called, it forced him to call me and come out of his stupor face me a moment, come out of his animal bliss.
We’re dealing with a kid from the train yard. Whatever divine element in him, he has just gotten rid of. What do you do with such a kid? He will never speak up. He’s satisfied. He’s got his parents’ attention, and is the focus of so much love, even if it’s for his parents to have him and not for him. This operation sucks.
Do we rock that poem on Main Street and show it to the kid? I’m not happy with this boy. He’ll walk the room listening for phone calls, listening for Nithish. Man-managed plan develop on rainbows. Let’s look at that replacement line. Ruth, this is daddy. Now I’ll call you mother. There a step-mother sleeps. And you never got close to her, but you were dependent, a little child, and you had to look to someone to take care of you. She was mean. She was a monster, but you called her mother, and that was your choice.
You hated the relationship. You cried and cried. You really tried to please her, took her assessment of you as conscious fact, believed her when she came crashing down on you for just leaving your boats in the yard: you were a bad boy.
She saw you naked, washed your back in the tub. She combed your hair before school in the morning and fussed over your clothes, and you hated that woman. You were 10 and 11, no? She was just so mean to you. “Get up you little bastard it’s time for school.” “I know you like a book. You’re no good, and your father’s no good.” That really sucked.
The constant tirade coming out of her mouth she flushed at you, anytime you were in earshot, that did you in. You hid in the woods for hours, until your father came home, and he was no gentle lover. A stern man with whippin’s, that’s what he gave.
Now look at Nithish. He’s making the best of a bad situation. He’s being punished for loving you, and no one seems to notice that. In his heart it’s liberation towards you, like you felt towards your mother, only she didn’t want you back, was not on the edge of consciousness night and day trying to carry your pain. That boy has got you, and you’re all he’s got.
Can we mention this to the world at large? A boy has a man he’s loved all his life, who’s taken care of him more than his parents, and for that he has been so traumatized that he’s died inside. He’s still loves this man, and so much time his parents have spent to kill this in him. What the fuck, over? Are you listening to this? Can they do that? Just because he loves me he’s gone through so much punishment, gaslighting, brainwashing, and psychological torture: here boy, love this man? Let’s go to a fine restaurant. I’ll take you to a spa. Forget him, forget him, forget him.
But it doesn’t work, and the parents are frustrated. They don’t know their son. Okay we just ride this, let it be? The boy’s better off just doing his school work? I beg your pardon? You put a child through hell and say it’s for good grades in school? That’s his reason for living, why he can’t have this man? That’s an eight standard education talking, his mother’s. This man is a Classical Greek scholar, and knows dyslexia when he sees it.
Oh beanpoles, you will not get away with this. I’m comin’ for that boy, and I’m comin’ loud and clear, and I’m bringin’ the posse, and I’m bringin’ the cavalry, and if Indians don’t know matters of the heart, just say yeah beat the children, let them lick their parents’ spoon, Americans know better, and they’re on the way out of this, and that’s who I’ve employed.
Aerosmith, it’s Aerosmith to tell you that American thing, lights out on total control and ever remember your dreams. Got some Pink Floyd here. American music, there’s music there for the land Earth, and it sticks in your craw like a love song. You hear our anthem here. Won’t you buy a little American pie? We don’t doubt the man does. Are you afraid the boy does? And I’m not givin’ the lowdown on abuse. That’s magic in love, a parental man for his little son, a big boy for his best friend, a man and a boy who love each other. Hear it?
We gather you in poems, one after another. Can you speak that far? I don’t think you’re over the fence, one foot process from stuck in the craw to living school. You don’t know how. That’s saving grace, whether you know it or not. Come on let’s ballon, and let’s give this keeper his time shares. He’s keepin’ a boy safe from harm. You know his mother reads this, reluctantly, somehow, despite herself. We take her there. For the poems now. (vision with the line of someone offering two Rupees notes, one a large denomination and the other a bit smaller, but it was big money) I get paid in regard and help this little boy, not a baby in the room, not even a chair.
He’s been taken out of the picture by his mother, and no one can question him a thing about where his mother is taking him, if she’s not in the room. A boy of 12 see that, no will of his own, year there’s a civilization on record, mluv pomaleji prosím. (vision with the line of being on a bicycle and turning to my passenger behind me and saying that Czech phrase, putting my finger to my lips so to say be quiet). May I help you with that? Expressive of their will is expressive of their life. Don’t deny them that, and you’re off to the races. Don’t put down later. Pretty much give him to the public. Hey, what color of a shirt didn’t he didn’t wearing today? The color his parents choose for him. A raccoon was not a ground speaker, but he lifted up his head. The voice is in the room.
Is that what you want society, another person dependent upon society to be his mother? No will of his own, that blooms. He can’t find himself. He might even kill you, the manhood takes its stand. Robbed of his will right there where he becomes a man, just entering the body changes of adolescence. Can you say that? Just tell me what to do okay, that’s what we hear. Sure society, that’s what you want, a world of beggars please. Let’s study this room. See Nithish.
Okay Nithish, I forgive you son. It’s not your fault. You’re not to blame, and I will see you soon.
Harm's End 