I can’t get drunk.
Lonely can.
I can’t do anything but sit here and cry.
I’m devastated.
Help me please.

You’ve got response.
Listen to me Mugu.
The Mother’s your electricity,
And she’s right there with you.
Hold her hand.
Just try.

I’m on your side.
It’s my job to get you outta there.
I need you to trust me Mugu.
Go ahead and move around.
It’s living space.
I don’t know where you’ll find other people but they’re there.
You’re in Nature.
It’s just spilled over into death.
No, you didn’t die before your time.
You’re in the appointment with death.
It’s time for you to move on.

I’m here to help you.
Just keep going.
Feel my breath upon your shoulder.
Let’s get you outta there.
Don’t falter.

Your attitude determines your state.
Don’t call things with your mind.
Bad things will come.
They manifest early there.
Think as high as you can
and keep going.

Lessen your state,
the heaviness of it,
the pain.
Just reach out your hand
and hold the Mother’s.
Hold it tightly.
She’s there.
I put your will in her,
and I’m here too.
I’m not leavin’
until you’re safe.

I’m really here.
Don’t doubt that.
The thoughts you are getting are from me.
I’m pressing in on your thoughts.
I hear you suffer,
and I’m here to help.
I love you Mugu,
and I have the knowledge and the power
to put you on my shoulders
and get you outta there.
Come, let’s go.

Let’s get you a horse.
That’s a moment Lisa.
Call her name.
It will take some time but she will come.
She’s ready for you.
She’s learned so much since her death.
Look for her now.
That Rottweiler will find you.
Just call her name.
Can you do that?

That’s a good purpose.
It will make you shine.
It will ground you,
and you’re well on your way to better.
Now go.
There you are mountain
In just a few steps.

Not protected
suffering so.
Come out of your grief
before the monsters come.
You will call them with your grief.
Lift your head up.
Shake it off
and start your journey.

This is happening to you now.
There are brighter days ahead,
but you have to will them.
Things manifest there,
like I said,
directly from your thoughts.
You’re not on Earth anymore.
You’re in some in-between place,
and it’s time to get movin’.
Let’s go.

Did he mess up?
Wants to Asiya.
He wants to break that guy’s neck.
Held obstacles,
and how could you not want revenge
murdered by someone.

Two live buttons:
Lisa and the Mother.

Mugu, 24, my adopted son (unofficially), was killed around 3 in the morning August 14th. He was murdered, stabbed in the heart with a knife, and there were multiple stabs wounds. He was trying to help in a domestic dispute, protecting the woman, and the man killed him. It was really a revenge killing, as Mugu had married the girl Asiya had wanted to marry, some three years ago. He had threatened to kill Mugu many times. I’m sorry to say that Asiya is also my adopted son. He’s now in jail. It’s more ironic than that. When Asiya was seven, his father murdered his mother and spent several years in prison. We unofficially adopted him when he was 10, as his family was going to send him to a hostel for the mentally ill, as he hardly spoke. That changed when he came to live with us, and he became a normal, sweet kid. It was a late puberty that saw the violence rise, and we didn’t even know it was there, but he still got all the way to his third year in art college before it defeated him. It happened that he threatened to hit a professor and was kicked out. He went downhill from there, all the way to murdering his brother. They grew up together, their latter childhood years at least. It’s all such a tragedy.

The poem above is a representation of a real conversation I had with Mugu on the other side, me in my bed in trance picking up on his thoughts, my muse putting them in its words, and me sending him the thoughts the of the poem. They probably came into his mind in Tamil and disguised as his own thoughts, but different ones than the ones that he was having, and there would be something about them that would make him question if there were not from me, or at least not his own, someone trying to help. In his abject despair, it would be hard for him to believe that. I will keep trying. The poem resulted from me sitting next to his body for about an hour, clearing my mind and letting him in. Earlier, a couple of hours after his death, right at the beginning of dawn, I had a very quick vision of him sitting in some small space, hidden from the large warehouse-like room it was a part of, with his knees drawn up to his chest, his face down on his knees. He was in shock. I only had time to say, “There you are!” before the dream vision ended.

I can only tell you that it doesn’t matter what you believe, when we die only our body does, and we pass into the city of the dead. Especially right after death, before and during the funeral, as was the case here, the veil is the thinnest between the living and the dead, but, as time passes, the dead ‘see’ here less and less. I am sorry to tell you there are no instructions when we die, no guidebook, and if you have no real faith in the divine or a divine, or in a larger reality, you’re just lost for some time, unable to see the help ready at hand because you don’t believe it’s there. Eventually, you get your feet under you again so to speak, and rise towards paradise, soul home, and another life, but you have to admit the spiritual and soul reality.

One paragraph can’t possibly account for the variety of death in human experience. And I cannot tell you if the moment of death is a beatific experience for all or most, a joyfully going into a bright light or what have you. I’m speaking in this post of the arrival on the death plane, where you end up after dying. Of course a violent death, especially being murdered suddenly, would put you in a darker place, at least initially. It might take some time for you to go to where your development would put you, speaking in terms of soul development, but you’d go there. Mugu wasn’t a person of either soul development or faith I should add, but he wasn’t a degenerate by any means. He had a good heart and an innocence about him. He didn’t deserve to die. It bears mentioning that it doesn’t so much matter what your outer or surface person believes or has faith in, in regards to a higher power, but what your inner being does. It’s much vaster and is what we are when we dream, and if you do a lot of experimentation with lucid dreaming, you discover there is a difference between the inner and outer being, and it’s the inner being that determines the outer and not the other way around. With those of us largely unconscious of our inner being, things take longer to manifest into the outer, any faith in a higher power the inner might have for example, which would come into play upon death, since you are on the inner plane and hence are your inner self. So you might think you’re an atheist or agnostic, but, upon dying, you find out you really aren’t, and hence you’re not as lost.