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?
A heartbroken line. You just have to write this down. There is no Earth and Heaven but you. We glide here on our own devices. We can’t see the world around us. It’s blind to us too. We can’t even see our yard. There’s a process there. It’s image on sight. We have see things to believe in them. Our fingers have to touch their face. No other process allowed. That’s the ring around the rosie for us. It’s how we live.
It gets us in a lot of trouble. We can’t always see things. When people are away from us they’re gone. We imagine their existence, and it’s not real to us. They’re not there. Now tell me what to do? Go outside and see things, and try to transfer sight to some bigger picture happening before your eyes. Don’t just see your little world. It’s gotten big enough to swallow you whole. We gotta get outta here.
It eats us alive. It’s the only thing we know. Can you see this? Do you know what I’m talkin’ about? We are blind before our face. Our world is the world, and there is no other that has the reality of ours. We can put this in a movie or a sports field, or maybe even a good book. We feel something other than ourselves, but we’re involved in it. We’re still the center of the room. Look at YouTube Shots. They piece you to pieces, this show, and that show, and this show, and you have your favorites. Where are they taking you? They don’t know how to time. They don’t stop. You are lost there in the middle of you.
I’m tryin’ to get to some larger whole none of us see. We’re divided up in pieces, your world and my world and Larry’s world. Will we put our glasses on and see this? It really sucks you know when you lose someone. Say you had a kid and you’ve been raisin’ them since they were three. At 12 you lost them, and they were just taken from you for no other reason than just to take, ‘cause you made someone mad. Devastating.
It was a bubble relationship. We were the captain of our ship laughin’ at the world go by we teammates, best friends, together all the time. We were joined, and the world went by, and we were so special in it, so much comfort in each other, so much love. And then you lose that boy. No contact is allowed, and you watch that boy turn like he never knew you, and now he wants you gone. No, no, I didn’t abuse him. His parents did. He was broken whipped and spanked until he gave his parents what they wanted, the keys to himself. They can do that. They’re Indian parents. He was broken, lost his will, lost himself. They spanked him, and he cried and cried, and I had promised to save him and couldn’t come. That anger rides.
What are we left with? A quaking world. Death would seem a happy state, and I almost long to be there. I want my boy. I can’t take it. There is no escape from this pain. What do you do? You feel pain. You don’t know what to do. There’s no way out. Months ahead, the death of a child. There is no remedy for this. I’m lost in him, and oh the jesters of pain, that kid could care less if he sees me again, in just two short weeks.
Where do we go? To death? We have to do something. We have to live. We have to get up and live. You’ve been fucked by the universe, abandoned by your Gods. All soul’s failed, and you’ve got to find another life, and you really want the one you had. You’re stupid you tell yourself, a fool. Children are treacherous, and they only like pleasure and joyrides, and their heart can be bought with candy and cake, and they forget you, even when you were their whole world.
I’m dying in this pain, and I’m just showing it to you so you know of the reality of which I speak, in some little lost world forgotten from the whole. To cut him out of my heart is blind. That boy needs protected, and he’s in a bad situation. It’s an abusive situation. I cannot abandon him. I must go on tryin’ to free him, but the loss is too great to bear. You see the predicament.
It’s going somewhere. I am being perfected for him in parental ways, as he will need to be healed. If he returns, he will be healed with certain hands. I’m ready for him. There is just this need to swallow, this ever aching need that he fulfill my life, be its ornament, and meet my emotional needs. How can I get rid of this? Don’t look at me funny. You do it too with children. We are property lovers with them.
I don’t know how to do this, and that is my lesson now. It hurts. Where do I find you? In the lesson plan. I’m reaching out to you to be a lover with you, to put down that kid a minute, and let’s say hey look at this: we are fragmented world. Will you do the time with me? It might be a pickup truck that takes us all on a ride to higher skies. That’s where we think about larger things than ourselves and the contents and people of our little world. I’m pushin’ yah there in my own flagpole as I do this too. Will you sing with me?
Will we be together again? We come from afar. This is not our home. We’re on dangerous ground, where the Void meets Earth. There are doings here that have us all undone. We live out our lives little people, totally forgetting who we are together, the very next field above this one, the supramental field.
I’m ridin’ yah there, journeying myself. I don’t want to go. All my thoughts on little boy and what’s going on with him right now. Is he happy is he sad? Is he missing me? Would he like to see me again? Are they hurting him? This goes deep.
Alright I’ve told you some about what we don’t talk about: look there’s a whole; look there’s together again; look we are bigger than what we are. Have I reached out to you? I can’t see it. I don’t even know you’re there. I think that’s a reality kingpin. I’m alone in here in front of all of you, because of my perception. Can you figure it out?
That is put to the finish. Hey you got some things growing up there. Tunnel things this reality. It’s trustworthy. There’s no other way to see it. We’re not real, is that how far this goes? Do you see what I’m gettin’ at? Where is reality’s footing? Where do we place ourselves? In the center of attention? I think we look higher up. We look where it happens, where reality gets arranged, and we find ourselves there watching the arrangement. Isn’t that funny? Here I am.
Suffer the supramental solution. Sri Aurobindo wrote his letters just sittin’ there. He didn’t see the disciples, yet he knew they were there. He didn’t have to see them. He had concrete inner contact with them, and he knew what was goin’ on. He could see their own selves, and he knew what they needed.
This was just vision to him. No, this was the substance of his room. He grabbed the whole with his own hand. It was his messenger. He substance see’d, knew in relation to the whole, and he could see without errors. I cannot do that. I have strong inner vision. It doesn’t come everything’s true without errors. It gets a lot of lie, exaggeration, and endless possibilities worked out. I can’t see straight.
You don’t know how much this sucks. I’m glued to inner vision now to protect my kid and bring him back home, and it’s driving me crazy, all these scenarios played out one by one. He’s been hit with a dog. He’s been pissed on and raked over an open fire. This just kills me, and I don’t know what to do. The bad part is over, when they broke him to turn him from me. Now they’re tryin’ to act normal, and they want him to be happy.
Gaslighting is the order of the day. What’s a kid to do? Acquiesce and be what their parents want them to be, do what their parents want them to do, and say what their parents want them to say, and that’s what he’s doin’. and I can have no contact, and not a single person there will tell him of me. It’s inhuman. It’s a total blackout they’ve arranged. The abusers become his saviors, and his beloved grandpa a foreign devil tryin’ to take him from his family.
I was his main parent from the time he was six. Six years with me more than his parents, and they’re gaslighting him to make me some babysitter they mistakenly arranged. Okay public, what to do? I’ve shown you his card, a song he wrote himself when his parents were pullin and kicking him about school. This is where he is at. This is the boy on his own. Where do we find him? I hope that’s not the graveyard. Can you come and help me find him please? I really need you, and this is a live child waiting for your help. Can you help? Oh Puducherry, you couldn’t Aarthi.
Now there’s hope. The boy’s alive. How do I know he’s unsafe? His father’s a killer for a Lawspet gang with BJP connections, but he hasn’t killed in awhile. Says he’s done with it, but see the gold on him you’ll know he’s still involved, a gold ring on every finger like a pimp. He could kill that kid in a jealous fit of rage, and the mother’s of low character, and she may not prevent him. That's where this is headed. Don't be sorry. I’m calling on you now, Puducherry, rise up and protect that boy before anything else is done. Will you help me? Can you take this boy to safety? That’s wonderful. Thank you.
This is the boy’s address in Puducherry, India:
64 Nettu St. Kurusukuppam, Puducherry, 605012
The street is only a small alleyway accessible from Advocate Chinnathambi St. Fourth Cross. Go to Le Nid Apartments on Advocate Chinnathambi Street, stand facing the gates and turn right 90 degrees and you will see a little alleyway in front of you. Go down it and it immediately turns left and his house is the first door on the left. There is also an Ave Maria Kebi on the left side of the apartment gates.
Nithish’s school and he’s in 7th standard: New Modern Vidhya Mandir Higher Secondary School, 73/A, Pillayar Koil St, Angalamman Nagar, Muthialpet, Puducherry, 605003
His father lives in Chennai and has a business there and comes to Puducherry on the weekends. Here is his business address:
P. Sundaram S.S. Air Controls No. 432 Pachaivalliyamman Illam 29th St. 6th Sector K.K. Nagar, Chennai 600078
This is the address they spend the weekend at, usually from Saturday evening to Monday morning. It is his father’s parents’ house:
I might’ve slipped on the internet This is no problem for me. It’s how I entered the internet. What do we got comin’? Poetry in your yard. Can I cross your brow with it? This is a think page. Go back to puppies and bullshit, if you want your hands in your underwear. The internet is for porn, in a nuclear holocaust.
What do I got for yah today? I don’t wanna write this down. A little girl was killed in Pondicherry, raped and murdered. I didn’t hear the news. Nithish told me on the way to school. Whatever happened, this girl suffered. Oh my God the reality these days. You should’ve seen caveman days, and all along humanity this has happened to children. It’s not special today. It’s just horrible.
I’m sorry little girl. She was nine-years-old. Nithish told me about Hindi kidnappers in Tamil Nadu. There were 300 of ‘em, it said on the news. Again, it’s Nithish’s report. I don’t speak Tamil, especially on the 6 o’clock news.
Goddamn this girl got killed, and do you know what? She was in her neighbor’s house for two days before it happened. She tried to escaped and they killed ‘er. What was normal procedure? You search the goddamn neighborhood, especially across the street. A strange old man livin’ alone? Hey man, can we check your house? That didn’t happen. Everybody was lookin’ for Hindi kidnappers, far away from the house, taking her organs and selling them. It was a mass hysteria, and it cost the city a lot. They would’ve found that girl, if they followed procedure.
I don’t think no one’s listenin’ to me. There was a day long strike all over Pondicherry before they found the girl. Where is she? Not far from the Hand, not far from God’s grace and lovingkindness. She can’t come back to us. No way, she’s dead.
Man is a trapped being; I can make that armstrong strong; what do you want to die next? said the demon to the little girl. Cause she’s a baby, can we carry this baby? Can we get around this baby? It wasn’t her fault. Hell opened up on that child and ate her.
We are left stunned. The pain, the fear, the little child suffered is unimaginable. I can understand the anger all over town, but it’s misplaced. She’s here to tell us something we can’t see: we can never blame ourselves for the wrong done by another; we aren't able to.
It’s exemplified in her, the abuse of children in Pondicherry. Slapped, kicked around, put in school, you don’t know the half of it. They’re made to bleed there, produce paltry items, the unnecessary, the boring, the out of wack, and they’re hit there. They’re made to go day after day to an excuse for school. Exams punish them. Their day is wasted in mean environments. Of course they bully each other. That’s what they’re learning there.
Can we take them home? Home’s a little harder, where the environment spills out. My God kids are beaten, made to serve their parents, told they are alive for their parents, controlled to the nth degree, lied to, spit on, and treated like they don’t count much. Is this your typical home in Pondicherry? It happens enough to produce this girl and her ordeal. Do you know the will available to abuse her from the collective conscious of Pondicherry? Set it right.
These are tell-tale signs that give us some indication what’s goin’ on in the collective. The symbol reproduces it in exaggerated form. It was not done by God it was done by devils, the demons attached to the men that did it and the horde of demons that came to feed. They’re all over Pondicherry. You don’t know their station here all over the world. They’re in your homes and families. They are the evil behind the act. We can only see the act.
Will you bear with me as I show you the blame game? I don’t know the timeline, but this girl didn’t die right away. She spent a couple of days in a house very close to her home. Nobody was lookin’ there with the focus of their concentration. Maybe she’d be alive if they did. A news report had broadcast some days earlier Hindi kidnappers were afoot kidnappin’ children in Pondicherry. That took the news and stupidly took the police station. Tamils don’t like out of state. They don’t want Hindi people here. So the search begin focusing on the mass hysteria of these organ sellers?
A video had circulated, of course, a Hindi kidnapper confessing all and tellin’ of the network in Pondicherry. That was the focus of the search, not for the little girl. I don’t know if they combed the neighborhood, knocked on doors, but that old man’s house was nearby, and he lived alone suspicious. What kept him from being searched? She was alive and there when they found her missin’, being raped repeatedly, while they looked elsewhere, and she wasn’t just murdered; she was killed with Hell’s hands.
Where are the Hindi kidnappers now? They are two Tamils in police hands, neighbors nearby. They young man had raped her before, and the old man ordered him to kidnap her and bring her to him, by threatening him with police would you believe? It all happened so fast. She was nabbed playing outside near her house. We have ganja to blame, new reports say. They were pot smokers, and it corrupted their Tamil. Tamils wouldn’t do this otherwise. Do you see the logic? Ban grass! and people are demonstratin’ in town. It’s already illegal.
What’s goin’ on? A culture is blind to itself, every culture on Earth. can we get ourselves to see? What do you do with your children, the first thing you should ask. Are you a teacher? You’re complacent just being one, but are you happy there? Do you really get mad at children? Do they see you smile throughout the day? Do they know your lovingkindness? It’s too much for you isn’t it, the system. You take it out on the kids. Would you get yourself to see that?
Now parents, do you shine on your children all the love and attention they need? It’s backbreakin’ work idn’t it, takin’ care of a home. Kids throw wrenches in the system don’t they, mess things up, won’t leave things alone. What do you do with them? I’m not askin’ if you love them or not. Do you speak harshly to them? Do you hit them? Do you rag on them all the time? They don’t measure up do they? No kids does in his parents’ room.
Pondicherry I’m sorry this is you. You’re hateful to your children, not every minute, not in every home, but it’s there strong enough to get this girl killed. You share responsibility Pondicherry with these two men, and I’ve written this poem so you can see that.
Do you know what a kidnapper is? Hold in the atmosphere the abuse of children where they are kidnapped. That’s the formula for TV. That’s the formula for Tamil Nadu. That’s the formula for Pondicherry. If you don’t see this more murders will come, more kidnappings. You’ll need to break ship to get it to stop. You’ll have to come from oneness base. That’s not typical. That’s not ordinary. That’s not the way we do things. It’s time we start.
All this talk of Hindu today, Hindu this, Hindu that, riled over cows, marriage conversions, temples in the air. I think Hindu gave the world oneness, didn’t it? It’s its underlying philosophy. On this Hindu stands. Where do you see it today in Hindu society? Is it ever-present? It’s not Hindu it’s oneness Hindu’s about. That is the temple we yard. That’s what brought it into being.
Hindu is alive on oneness. Without it it’s dead. Can you show me where India is alive today? Is Hindu alive today? Let’s do Hindu. Let’s do oneness.
I’m just anxious to ICU, and did you know that Hindu does that, brings us all to church? No, we need to get past temples and the religious offerings. We need to see oneness as the everyday of our lives. In practical hands it works, when you see the underlying of it all. Here I’ve shown you. I’m sorry Muslims don’t do this, or Christians, and Buddhists don’t believe it’s there. It’s the oneness of everything, the vibrant conscious oneness. It’s what Hindu has given to the world. It’s the truth of things. It’s why I’m here, and I’m here a long way from you. Will you join me in oneness?
Is this area to become worldwide useful? And oneness it is. We become practical that way. If we become oneness it is. We have to find the way there. I did, after bein’ horrible to children. It made me do it. I was open to God. I’m sleepin’ with one now, holding him safe, writing you this poem. I’ve taken care of him all night, his little heart, making sure he knows I’m here. He’s on me now, his little face on my chest. He’s seven now. He was born in my room. That means he was born from my house. His mother’s pregnancy was there. I’m a parental figure.
He trusts me. I have the key to his pants, but I don’t get into them with desire hands. He’s Nithish’s little brother. Nithish is in his room sleeping. I know how to take care of children, after so much trial and error. They really like my house. They are so welcome there, and I know how to do it, take care of a kid, just enough hands off to leave them alone, just enough hands on to give them what they need. This is fun for me. Did I hear you call me pedophile? I do love children, so much I can be in their presence all day, and I love it there. You need people like me. I make mistakes with my anger sometimes, yell and scream, and quickly apologize. They rule.
My ego gets bashed a lot, but you concede to a kid. You treat them well. They need to be the center of attention. The house revolves around them, in any God-given house, naturally. I teamwork this with Douglas, and he’s good with kids, funny as all get out, and we keep them kids safe and well taken care of. We are sweet to them. Everybody watches us do it here on the farm, smiles and warm faces, and we’ve been along together for years. Now I’m takin’ it to the next level, the public eye.
I want you to see oneness in operation. I’m one with you, one with these kids, and I want the world to see that it can be done, correct your problems with kids and move on. This is what I’m doin’ now, shakin’ Pondicherry by the leg, and sayin’ hey wake up, you need to change your way with kids. Is that too much to ask? It’s what we must ask. It starts with kids, our humanity, and the world unfolds in their hands how our hands have treated them. It’s not a nice world today is it?
Be nice to kids and it will be soon. If one generation, all around the world, could get it together with kids, and heal themselves of the abuse of them, the world would change automatically, dramatically be a better world. Is there too many of us to try? We can get it down in Pondicherry. We can take one city and show the ropes. We can make it our mandate, plan, not with the policeman’s stick, the angry shout, the tabloid news. It would have to be on oneness base. It would have to be holistically done. Hey, I’ve got a problem; can you give me the space to heal?
The healing would be immense. We would record how. It’s on God’s base, a dynamic healing plan right inside you. You’re hearin’ it speak now, an immune system we don’t know about. It heals us. Punishment, hatred, doesn’t.
What am I sayin’? Pondy grab your files and heal from what makes you abuse kids. I’ve shown a way, if you’re relaxed enough, if you can do it non-judgmentally and not even condemn yourself. It’s a love angle. It’s where we’re happenin’. Healin’s what we gotta do. Can we get started Pondicherry? Let’s see you put this on the news.
What came first the chicken or the egg? Why the egg of course. Auf wiedersehen. Is this is a prompt? It’s skyward license. I’m on the way up. This will shake your world, and I’m a pied piper— hey everybody let’s go. You’re sterile wars today. I’m gettin’ there. I have an honest day’s work. My hat grows today Supermind. It’s Supramental Darshan at the ashram of Sri Aurobindo and inside the whole world. Comes once every four years, leap year.
Did I shake you some? Nobody’s doin’ it today, where Supermind’s concerned. It’s a blow out the top of your head, on the top of the world, beyond the universe. It’s a station up there, who you are inside beyond all the lives. It’s God up there, on His first row. We get bigger God. You identify with You. You’re there, the origin of all your lives, the Being you are in time representing. You are there You.
We come back to this, as our being gets there. I don’t wanna get this wrong. We are representative in time, representative of That, this station above our heads Supermind. It’s a golden foyer open in all its glory. We haven’t gotten to that yet. The Mother released it into the subtle physical. It’s yet to invade matter, but it’s there on our tops, if you’re old enough to get there in wheels of sadhana.
You can experience this, and all the doors you have open to do. They take you by surprise. I’m there I said. Oh no I am not. I’m not even in Silent Mind. I’m sittin’ down on my spool measurin’ sadhana. I let the supramental influence glow, a time or two, throughout my day, because I’ve been up there you see. Right at breaking point, and I beam up there again. Well I can block it all day long. I’m holdin’ myself down. Oh I’m sure your influence has somethin’ to do with it. You don’t put together the world hey look there’s Supermind.
I’m all over this. It’s a supramental thought I write, and I do it damn near every day. The top of my head’s open for to receive. You hear this now. Baby, I’m yours. [line heard sung by Barbara Lewis, line song title] You know how the song goes, “till two and two is three”. I’m a supramental can. I don’t give you the straight shoot the whole cigar. I can’t. I’m in Overmind bundles. I give you some facsimile thereof. I’m talking to you so many think cans an overmental thought wore. I’m not the direct Sun.
I couldn’t even try. We haven’t everglade that yet, the world is open to Supermind, and it writes our poetry. There’s a balance between error and what’s this shit? Okay who corrupted my piece? We are aware of those. Now you wrote the most healthiest thing to say if you were formin’ Supermind to an overmental audience. We’re all overmental today. We are on the plane of the cosmic Gods, anywhere we touch religion and put on spiritual shoes, and Overmind formed civilization, if you didn’t know. That makes us pretty overmental, any way you go.
It confounds the animal, and it makes us man. Did I get that right? Or people I should say. We’re good in it. We’re terrible to people who do not honor civilization. We cut them up in little pieces and feed them to the dogs, even if we don’t love them. Did I just say something wrong? Well the Gods are merciful, but our hands in Their laws carry the day. We just stood there and punished sin, God there or not.
We are overmental beings how we see reality. You don’t see that pole. You don’t even see me an answer to grave letter. I’m an overmental pail, and I see into this matter deeply, sittin’ here open to Supermind, the bad man on Earth. You get bigger God. Not all overmental divinities are open to infinity. I carry the Integral Yoga of the Mother and Sri Aurobindo, and overmental House if you please. They are open to infinity, within infinity, within infinity, and they are open to Supermind. This is a Tamil bakery plan, and it’s all over the place, but Supermind arrived here in the Mother’s plans.
I am the supramental manifestation on Earth. And you would be wrong, if you brooded there. The Mother didn’t manifest Supermind either, where her consciousness was concerned. What am I sayin’? You’d hear me say it. It got on Sri Aurobindo’s tops, but he did not abide there, but he did not manifest it there. He was a supramental being in form only. He didn’t get there. Sudden shoot ups saw him stop in the Supermind, and all the glory he arose. How do I count this to you? Let’s understand it.
Though Sri Aurobindo counts Supermind, we encounter him in Overmind, as our uncle and our sage, as our guide and our teacher. Do you worship this? Do you just sit there and count stars? Supermind’s above us, and we do not get there in overmental ways. I have all these knowledge bits for you to handle. I am not a sudden sit there in everybody’s glee. I tarry you in understanding, because it’s there, Supermind and Supermind realizing on Earth. This is a different mode of consciousness than God on Earth in any form today.
We don’t worship transformation hello God. Supermind grabs us by the arms. No, it doesn’t even call on our tops. It transforms. It doesn’t deity. It’s just itself up there lookin’ down. We look up and meet it, and in that look transform the world.
Do you snake bite? I’m afraid you do there’s no hope for you. Everything’s about vengeance, and even the Gods dry there, in wells of compassion they can’t seem to rise. Where do you go for healing? Can we tell the public you do? This is Supermind’s regard on the world. It heals stuff, transforms its nature. It uses the very stuff of nature to do that. My how amoral this is. Right in nature’s man, it takes a man’s vice and heals him with it, heals him with his sin, changes it, perfects it, gives it divine reason to live, and all the harm has been removed.
Nature won’t allow this in halls of man, and we get stuck there, not knowin’ what to do. Oh it seems us right to punish. Punish harder take out the stinger it is believed. Can I get you there? It doesn’t work. Throw a gay off a roof, and you have a dead gay. Who has healed homosexuality? Oh if I said pedophile you would agree— kill the son of a bitch.
What do we do now? Give God the plan. In sudden moments of universe, I’m on my tops now, basking there. You’re there with me, not all smiles. My God the forms of this world, they carry you to Supermind, and they’re right there on our tops, changing forms. Do you see the God inside? I can’t pronounce it none. It’s where we get bigger, lookin’ at the world through formless eyes, letting the world get bigger than her visage, seeing behind the form God.
You can’t let a thang trip you up. Nothing can get in your way. You are bigger than the world you see, and you find Supermind there, behind the forms. It’s been here all along, is the ground of everything really, is where creation starts, in the supramental pail we are. Supermind’s the ground of being, as far as we’re concerned. It’s what gives intelligence to matter, is the look that set the stars to light. We see it blossom in a flower, so insects will eat it, and pass their honey round. It’s the arrangement of things. It’s starred everything to a certain hour.
It has no business here, as interferers. We can’t pray to it and get it to act. It’s bigger than the Gods. It has no fetters the conditions of the universe impose. It’s here I said, in sudden storms, not as a God acting, as time being, since it’s the nature of things. Can you get this? Would you believe it’s here now, a time born storm?
The Mother and Sri Aurobindo arise its fountain on Earth, not as Gods, as the beings they are, set to this task. You wouldn’t worship them there, but they’re aligned with Earth to see this through, and they’ve picked a pedophile to bring it to you. Do you see Supermind? You can’t know its formula, unless you do. Transform the nature of the Earth, can you get a better man than pedophile to reveal what needs to be changed? And he is not the revealer. You are. My God the piles of wood we’ve chopped and stacked today. Do you see them?
I’m there, right around the corner from you, and we’ll meet soon, as the glory finds us. You hear me people? What do I say but WHAM! It is the nature of things, the supramental manifestation.
The title to the above poem came several feet from entering Sri Aurobindo’s room at the ashram in Pondicherry, India. I had completed the poem waiting for the room darshan outside, writing it all day, both at home where I live in the country and in the city, driving in traffic and sitting at various businesses and at the central park. The last line came when I arrived at the ashram in the late afternoon.
Nithish and I taking a selfie together for this poem
This poem was written for the trustees of the Sri Aurobindo Ashram in Pondicherry, India, and was given to them the only way correspondence can be, if you are not an ashramite or someone they know, by giving it in an envelope to Mr Puru at the photo room adjacent to the Samadhi, and whether or not he will pass it on is entirely up to him. The Samadhi is the tomb of the Mother and Sri Aurobindo, where people come to sit, meditate, and pray, which is located at the ashram.
We met these tomfooleries. Do you ever look at your own car? Can you be a better sadhak in wood, a better disciple of Sri Aurobindo? I lunge there: I spend my day in total concentration. This is a farmer on my land. I really till the soil. The concentration comes and goes, but it’s picked up time and time again. It’s fits and starts, all day long.
Can you be a better sadhak of Sri Aurobindo? I’m burnin’ on that ground. I clear my mind and find it’s there, for few certain minutes. Can we come back to this? I always do. I am disciple of Sri Aurobindo that always hears words my inner ear hears. I write them down through a voice recorder. My God I’m a seer someone said. No one’s said this yet. I’m just this guy with wood, if you see me on the street, held by my little boy.
He’s white and I’m black, as society sees us, an easy lesson in symbols if you hear. What color am I with him? I am navy green. That means he’s safe with me. What a spectacle for a pair of eyes. The racial mix’s intriguing, on the bandwidth of ourself. Don’t doctor this up. We’ve got infinity going for us, racin’ around, a whole field show. We do sadhana together. I be his teacher.
He’s not cloven foot. He stands on his sadhana too, a kid in grace and poise. Okay stand back. Here’s where we differ. Open the inner consciousness child. Reach in there and find soul. Open up in vision God. The Mother and Sri Aurobindo take those places so many times in his dreams and visions, and in his understanding of God. A child’s understanding basks in time. No matter, they are his guides and goads.
He’s opened the inner consciousness, and his poetry would map our Earth, if we but could give it time to breathe. School shoves it down his throat: hey kid, study for your exams? An exam is a holdover from the last institution: caveman you gotta learn this mile; it’s survival of the fittest. My God the lists against this kid are strong. It’s a wonder he’s even doing it, bein’ a vehicle of the inner voice. The inner lines are strong.
I know the doubt and fear cast on this. You would only see to know. His latest poem I include at the back of this email. His latest voice I include. We measure this by the strength of his ego. That’s not fair. A little kid’s sense wrote this.
Now here we are sittin’ at the back of this ego. And we mention the poet. I’m in the poem you see. Now listen to a story. I’ve given my kid the voice recorder. He might get a line. We are at the opposite pole of the Samadhi from the crowd. I’ve never sat there before. I'm with my other student Mithun, who hears inner music. I don’t got no more students but them.
A band plays. I hear the line “Ice cold Samadhi” just given into my inner ear, but my boy’s got the voice recorder occupied, whisperin’ in two lines of his own: “Rechargeable minds here, Olympus.” Here’s where it gets weird. Someone not connected with the Samadhi watch, not a staffer there, or so I think not, gets an eye on the voice recorder, walkin’ by the mountain. “Gimmie that.” No polite words were spoken, no considerations one, no respect none.
It’s here you’re doin’ sadhana, when somebody pops yah. All the gold comes out. I’m sorry to say none of mine did. In the ensuing conversations with this person and that, I just defended myself, and my boy there. I did not do what I was supposed to do: not react, but I didn’t tell one person off. I kept reaction out of my voice, to the degree anger and ill will I didn’t let show.
This I was careful to do. No one heard me. No one said a word. You know how this is gonna be reported: that son of a bitch lied and stole. You will believe your people, of course, but all things show themselves in time, and no one will be able to lie then, together or apart.
I’m left with a voice recorder I’ve used there now many years. I’ve written poems from that Samadhi, framed one and gave it to yah, “The Rotisserie of God”. No one has ever copied me, the reason I was told I couldn’t do it: everyone will. You think I’d of been discovered by now if it were a ruckus, but I can bring a pencil and paper if you insist. That leaves me with gold they will take from me there, when I come to pray. We will check you now every time. You know when a threat’s spoken. It’s the hatred in their eyes. We will harass you every time you come here. Can this not be what they really said?
Well Savitri asks for boons, from the spectre death. I’m not gonna ask for the blind to see. I’m just a sadhak not Savitri, but I hear you call my name, and can I write poetry sir on my voice recorder at the Samadhi? Well, I’ll wait. Now here’s the one I’m worried about. Can I enter the ashram gates without bein’ harassed? I’ll bring pencil and paper sir, until you tell me otherwise. No hidden cameras to record my voice I’ll wear. Do we have a deal?
Trustee please, are you spiritual? This is a Samadhi question. I live there in my heart all the time. I react, sure, but I’m there, and I live in vision. I see the world before my eyes a thing under creation. It’s being made right now. I hear this in vision, and you did too. “Ice cold Samadhi” means it was a frigid place emotionally, and where was this? It was in the situation I described. These men were ice cold, no warmth at all in their voice or in their eyes. Immediately they rose to anger, all riled upon themselves, and I’d had prevision of this, in that line of muse, just before it started.
The world rose there, before my very eyes, and I only saw it after it was over. Could help then? Well it sure helps in our conversation. I don’t think those men gathered the future before it happened. They were not focused and gathered. All came to put that foreigner in his place, like their reaction was natural the order of the day, like they weren’t doing sadhana. They acted like the inner voice had no place in Sri Aurobindo’s yoga. It was wrong.
Can I tell you something else? Well, my inner voice was right on. I forgot to tell yah… Some people say no I just made a mess. He wants to go over it look— my muse on where I’ve been. I’ve been to the moon and back, if you’re listenin’ to muse, and I’ve danced with the military on tactical nukes, a U.S. special forces commando. I’ve been in the heart and breath stop in Silent Mind, that hurried glance, and I saw the Gods in their tiers in Overmind, and on a rim of dreamless sleep, dived into the well of soul. Would you believe in overhead? The consciousness raises up there, like several meters, and there you find Supermind. Makes for a lot of poetry. Brief glimpses all, but I’ve seen what I’m sayin’.
I can go round about the world a penniless vagabond— 27 countries in 10 years. Do you have that faith? I don’t think you even learned Classical Greek. Translate Euripides into English verse, and you’ll gather strength in poetry. You also get good at it, in time. Took me 25 years, even after I started hearin’ it.
Now can we define the future poetry? The future’s got that in hand. I don’t understand. I’ve heard the future call my name, and you won’t show this to anyone? Paper airplanes every poem I’ve made? Make or break yah, these are not conventional teeth. Are you open to the divine? Candywood make or break yah, what you hear on the internet today.
I’m sorry I took it up, the internet speaker. I get laughed at and lauded. The latter’s not louder, but they’ve gotta eat too, the people on there for the breeze, and I might be seen soon by a pitchfork and a vital that hate me so much I go viral. Look there’s nothing in them, the threats I face today. The rotating officer is not interested in me. I’m not hurtin’ anybody. I’m not doin’ anything wrong. Now you’re starrin’ me, at your look see.
Oh well, do it to her face okay? Get another bad piece from her. You gave her a poem that said she needed to work on it, humanity’s tiger. Do people really wanna act like that at the ashram? A boy his hair, that’s what he does. I thought you’d notice they walk silly. Good idea, I’m talking about being human kind and loving to all who enter your gates.
You’re gonna have to, whadda you do? Really buckle down and be good to people, and her hair could be picked up too, and she could focus and concentrate, breakin’ along can reality period, yeah, yeah. Global, I even ask you to global change. Here it is you have a mirror. There’s broad stroke said it. There’s the yoga. Everybody makes mistakes. Would you offer this to the Mother?
Opening up kids, I agree with you. We don’t block them from society. We fathom them God. We don’t fathom them school. And they become there, on the journey to God a society rose. What do we hope by it? We get bigger than ourselves. His heart, a little boy rises his soul. A little boy rises I’ve been meanin’ to tell you. The expectation’s not the kid. It’s the consciousness. What’s this mountain? You wanna bring God into the world.
I tried to do a little explainin’ on boyness and the nature of man, on bein’ human. We are here for this. We need all our strength. Practice is another suite. Send it sweet. Did you get everybody put in this spirit? It takes the world to make it up. Blown up yeah. We made it here, in this section, to the touch of a magazine. Everything’s online, and this will be too, now or never.
Do you understand the flavor here? That’s the flavor of change. That’s the flavor of Harm’s End. These are bunk beds, and we live here, grandfather and his grandson you keep hittin’ at. Did I mention Douglas? Puts together his life with the Mother. A house is not complete without dogs, and we have four. They are the love of our life.
Our friend is on the roof, Narasimha, protecting my house if you should try to take me down. I don’t die. A divine worker is protected. This is what I’m aiming: the life divine. So much power, you’ll have instructions. May God bless you.
Your outer form was carried right. We are not derelicts or sinners. We are safe and sound. I’m will extra deep, alright? Okay, you have been warned. You don’t mess with divine protection, but are you really mean-spirited? Does the Mother cross your brow if you should hate someone? Okay your character’s on the table now. May you wish blessings for all. May you really hold the Mother’s hand.
I bear you no ill will. I’m not in a campaign to smear your name. I’m doin’ what I’m supposed to be doin’, here writing you a poem, now doing sadhana. I’ve changed the ticker tape in his life, that kid. Am I glad he met me with the divine. I’ve met you that way. That’s the story. Oh wait a minute daddy I wanna fix my lunch, one second. A purity of kid rose, a gracious cartoon. Now let’s survive this and become better friends.
You know it’s there, the fact of your will or consciousness behind a lesson. Okay, noted. Well it will transfer that it was made by the foreigner. Okay, spit on ‘im. I don’t think so. Your thought process in relation to your thoughts, and you pick them up randomly? Now that’s got uncle and brother, your bigger clothes, without AI. I’m here to help.
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.
I am down on Main Street just by bein’ there. I’m everybody’s special mission. Ah, I’m studying the ways of the world, the field of mankind. I have the Earth in view. I see what I’m sayin’. Do you see it?
My poetry put you in barns. No, it’s not clipped prose. It’s symbol wrought. I speak from vision’s lair. You see the symbol on it and the all-managing meaning. What does a barn mean? You got animals in there, and it’s where you were raised if you can’t polite society, or if you don’t know what it means to be human. Am I calling you names?
Well let’s get there, to where I wanna take you, and it’s not the hatred bunch. I sit in your smile and sing. It’s got symbol on it. I sit in your animal and sing. We are all rough wars. We’ve got some things to learn about each other. Can you see the writing on the wall? We would celebrate that Hebrew saying. It shows us so much.
We are not kind to each other. World Kindness Day has an explosion test. This guy went off on me, and my kid just stepped on a red carpet. He was livid with hatred. I didn’t understand it. I thought I’d done something wrong. You know how kids are, they play. He stepped on a standing iron that meant nothing.
It didn’t make any harm. He was dancin’ into the ashram on his feet. No he wasn’t making swirls. He just got in there in kid shoes. A little pole he stepped on its base. You know the kind with tape between them to guide people in? I’m describin’ the action so you can see the picture: nothing happened.
The thing didn’t get injured, and it didn’t make any noise. The man jumped up, sittin’ there right past the gate, and started tellin’ somebody they were out of line. There was no line of people there. He was just talking to my kid, ignoring me, purposefully. Now who is he talking to I thought at first. The man showed me what my kid had done, like he’d entered Auschwitz a Nazi protector, like my kid had really done something wrong.
He demonstrated the action, stepped on the thing. I couldn’t believe it. I was surprised. Without saying anything, wanting to get to that Samadhi so me and my kid could learn the school of the Samadhi that day, its lesson, I half-turned and gestured a mock surprise, then bellowed my arms and changed my face a mine of that boy being guilty of grave concerns, but I was laughin’ about it in my eyes and face it was so trivial in nature the boy’s infraction. It was such a good performance.
The man did not appreciate the performance. He got mad as hell. I think I said first “He’s a child.” He made the Shh! gesture to his lips like he was shooting me. It hurt. That really isn’t the quiet area. The way he thrust his face forward and danced on his feet, I saw the problem, racial hatred. They don’t like foreigners in that ashram, though they’ll pretend to if they like your name, and my kid’s Tamil. That Indian was not. Wow, the can of worms we can open here. The Sri Aurobindo Ashram hates Tamils. No, but they look down their nose at them.
I tried to give him my name but he refused it, trying to be kind and not answer the reaction that was bubblin’ in me. He didn’t give me a chance to do the yoga. That man called another man, a passer by, Tamil if I’m figurin’ right, to enforce this prejudice against Tamils, but all he knew he hated foreigners too. You get that in India a lot.
There was a dance, as the rude individual safeguarding Nazi ways showed the other what the boy had done by doin’ it himself. If it was really wrong then why’d he keep doin’ it? Well the Tamil man hated me too. Why you’d ask, because the boy had done something wrong? I asked both if they were concentrating on the yoga. Those fingers to their lips stabbed me in my heart. I called out their hatred. I felt as though if I said another word they’d call the police. I just had to say it: the Mother is watching you know, and there I joined my boy on the steps. They gave off a noise with their postures and facial expressions that showed I had really messed up.
I walked away. Nithish was almost in tears. I could see the pain in his eyes. He was hurt. He wanted to go immediately, leave the ashram. No, we do our Samdhi today, and I glowed with him as our foreheads came to that special place, where we meet our masters and put their energy in our papers.
On the way out I stopped, right there in the gate, turned and faced the man and said good morning. I wanted him to see me. I had wanted to take his picture, but convinced myself no, cameras aren’t allowed. So I stood there, my camera’s eyes. He looked at me and put his hand on his heart, like he was the most gentil human being, and said good morning too.
I wondered over the proximities of human behavior. What mules we are. I could’ve done better, but how about you, do you see the writing on this poem? This is typical ashram behavior with guests. What can we do about it? We can write poems and show the world.
Look at the Indus Valley.
They came here and planted it Themselves,
the Gods on Earth.
This is talking ship.
It saw Them mountain range.
Where we goin’?
Invictus.
It’s gonna take a long time just to get started.
Itching glass
now.
Come and say hi,
every wrong thing about India.
You got any stamps up here?
The ruling party wants to throne themselves,
like they’re in charge of Earth.
It’s in every land grab.
What’s happening?
That’s the truth—
want this uttered on Hindu lips.
Hey,
drown the BJP,
their own mess,
and they’re not
what the Gods intended.
Smell them?
They are not crystal clear drinking water.
Where would the Bhagavad Gita ride their behavior?
They go after people
without equanimity.
They hate and they slay.
What principles of yoga do they follow?
There’s the Self in my enemy;
I must respect him?
கொஞ்சம்
the spirit of the demonic man
in their heart.
Rage like asuras.
Where are they busy with the Self?
Universal brotherhood
and compassion,
you have not seen this in them.
I’ve seen this all over town
In their fields of notion.
Have you heard their laws?
They would bury people
in punishments made to make them suffer.
They have no understanding of law.
It’s not used as a weapon.
It’s to help you become better.
Look at their ganja initiative.
The underaged would suffer so
in environments that will make them worse.
Now let’s look at their civic duties.
Employment for youth,
better wages and a shorter workweek for all—
no more 12 hours days?
Let’s help our homeless, shall we?
take care of our old people,
give orphans the royal treatment,
and don’t leave anybody out in the cold?
Where are they taking the population?
bad, bad, blood, blood, [line heard sung by Neil Sedaka, song “Bad Blood”]
to the wrong thing in our hearts.
Let’s look in on ourselves
with cameras.
Surveillance all over the city.
Let’s watch each other mean.
The spirit of God has no business on Earth.
Control their lives and they’ll submit
to our little dictatorship.
As soon as it’s ready you’ll see.
We will get you.
Laid back Pondicherry,
we’ve got other plans for you:
a Hindu initiative.
Listen to the writing on the wall
BJP.
Peaceful Pondicherry
in God’s hands.
Direction:
let’s ramp it up,
the realization of God in everyone’s lives,
the flowering of everyone’s humanity.
No dogmas—
you are on the road to self-discovery.
You will reach down deep inside
and find your wherewithal with Earth,
and find your true self.
That’s where we’re goin’.
We have to start somewhere.
Let’s start standing up to the BJP.
This part of myself
I will turn towards the light.
Do you see the spirit?
You’re not pointing fingers
like some moral crusader.
Hey man that’s me,
and I’ve gotta respect myself,
whoever you are.
That’s the lesson plan.
That’s how we do it.
d a g
It’s been a long time,
a
long, long, long time,
g a d g
everything that’s sung and in one line.
d a g
Work up slowly your way to it.
d g a
And the folk song’s driftin’ on a better day.
d a g
The folk song’s liftin’ on a inner ray:
d g a g d
the many splendors of beauty’s reign.
g a d g
Here the heart wants to share
g a d
snow covered music for my kind,
g a d
on the wings of the time, on the wings of a dove, on the wings of love.
a g
So many changes for my kind,
a d
everything to do with the divine,
a g
everything that’s true,
d a g
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign,
d a g d
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign.
Verse 2
d a g
Let go,
a
let, let, let go.
g a d g
Land wide release.
d a g
You are llamada up above. (Spanish, pronounced ‘yamada’)
d g a
And the folk song’s driftin’ on a better day.
d a g
The folk song’s liftin’ on a inner ray:
d g a g d
the many splendors of beauty’s reign.
g a d g
Here the heart wants to share
g a d
snow covered music for my kind,
g a d
on the wings of the time, on the wings of a dove, on the wings of love.
a g
So many changes for my kind,
a d
everything to do with the divine,
a g
everything that’s true,
d a g
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign,
d a g d
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign.
Verse 3
d a g
A time of change,
a
change, change, change, change,
g a d g
when the world pipe knows only one thing.
d a g
You have to know it very well.
d g a
And the folk song is tempted by an adverse fate.
d a g
The folk song is driftin’ wrong on the Titan’s urge.
d g a g d
He saw my sun, moon, and stars.
g a d g
Put all change back.
g a d
But in the play there’s a process aware of,
d g a d
Look out of the psychic being’s urge.
a g
And that weakness was no longer,
a d
and that weakness was no longer.
a g
It shattered not
d a g
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign,
d a g d
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign.
Ending
D A G
This is from the sun (3xs):
g a d g
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign,
d a g d
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign.
Poetry
I need you.
He fell into the bricks.
Thank God let him through.
He’s an image in a photograph.
What visibility.
All citywide wears one face.
It gathers in the gloom.
Was to fight
till the front soul noon.
Let’s give soft yoga shoes
a copy of The Letters
and give those bored little crazies the cubbyholes.
Came out peaceful Pondicherry.
Harm's End 