Posted in A walk into the woods, Hechicera, lady, Love, Memories, Mirage in the Mist, Random Pic Random Post, Relationships, romance, Togetherness

Shards of glass – Unbroken

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He is lost.. in her thoughts
love-couple-hug-boy-and-girl-romantic-x
His mind captures this moment – to make it real one day
Note: I don't own the images and anyone who believes their photograph has been used here, please write to me and I shall connect with you asap.

One look at her and he knew she was a rag doll, a million shards of glass fixed together with something that was hardly visible – what held her together?

SHe intrigued him. He just did not know why he hired her. She was a mess. A clear mess. Deepika. Her eyes told it all – every broken shard shone in her deep eyes – blinding me into shock. What could have happened?

A heart break? He thought? Nope.. doesn’t look like. This is something much more deeper. He did ask her, “Have you ever loved someone?” And she just nodded. That’s it. Something about the way she fluttered her eyes made him feel that she could love deeply. As deep as her teary eyes.

But still, heart break wasn’t really what it seemed like. He had seen enough of life to know how many different faces this being called ‘grief’ wore. She was in grief. Yes. Absolute grief. That’s the right word. Grief.

Deep, dark, lonely, shrouded, NUMB.

A zombie. That’s what she had turned herself into. A zombie that knew only to work. Go back. Sleep. Get up. Come to work. Sleep. Nothing else. She hardly ate – and when she ate, it was tasteless crap, which she’d so sweetly share with me. Grief had turned her so numb that she couldn’t even make out the blandness of food.

WOuld you like to have coffee? Would you like to go out for coffee? I asked again, ensuring that she heard me. She looked up from her laptop. “Huh?? I don’t like coffee.” That’s it. This girl. This 30 something just turned a date into a coffee preference conversation. My Bloody Goodness!! She was either too smart or just too naive. Naive was a tall order – naive doesn’t exist these days. What was she?

All I knew was she worked – like hard labour. Effing hard labour. Tell her anything about the work she did, and she’d turn into this tigress – roaring and defending left right and center.

Something about her told me she could be trusted. Perhaps the mean gossip that went around about her ‘wierdness’ never reached her ears. Or if did, she perhaps didn’t care. Whatever it was, I could sense a flicker of respect for her. Unlike all other women of her age, she was just. A girl. Like a tiny tot that hides behind her mother’s sleeve – except that she hid behind her grief.

And she was determined to not let anyone shake her pieced up million shards up. It would have taken her ages – to pick up the pieces and walk tall again. I suddenly felt another sharp sting in the center of my heart. Protective?? Of course not!! I have seen enough. But the sting kept digging in and in – until it morphed itself into an arrow that pierced to the other side of my heart. I was confused.

It doesn’t really work that way. It doesn’t. But that sting was a growing desire to unbreak her. To peel off that pieced up skin to reveal a bright shining beauty that had retired some 5-6 years ago, I guessed, only to be proven correct later.

Deepika, he thought, somehow, I believe there would always be space for your hand in mine. “Give me your hand”, he said.

The lady doesn’t even turn her head!! She just gives a cross eyed look.

Phewwww. The Board Room fight was easier, I guess!!

Who does he think he is? Absolutely no sense of how to talk to a woman..!!

Huh!! Whatever!

*back to her article

Do you think this is a paragraph from a Mills & Boon story?

Would you like to give him a name?

What next??

*Originally published 9th January 2016

Posted in Betrayals, Causes, Human Rights

Cults and Young Minds

depressed-woman

Har Har Japoon Main Har Har
Har Har Japoon Main Har Har
Courtesy: Google Images
Courtesy: Google Images

Picture this:

A lone girl – Just divorced/Just broke up with her BF/staying alone in a big (or small) city

A middle-aged lady – son has left for US/ daughter just got married/ is in a middle age crisis/going through empty nest syndrome

A young man who has lost interest in life because he does not know how to earn million dollars.

A student who consistently fails in exams, but is promised miracles.

What do you think is common between all of them?

At first glance, perhaps nothing.

Think a bit more, and one word will resonate – VULNERABLE

EASY PREY

When you are low in life, apart from fighting your own demons, you also have to fight predators who are looking out for people like you. Cult members are everywhere around us. The reason why they are not apparent is because one of the requisites of their modus operandi is to remain inconspicuous to the general public, and very very ‘in-your-face’ conspicuous to those who are like the ones described above, vulnerable and easy prey.

In many cases, it starts with a trust building statement that goes like, “I know what you are going through. I have been there. I know how much it hurts. But I had ‘grace’ and was saved from this suffering’. And then begins the story. Then begins the seva. Then in the name of seva, they suck into your time, slowly and surely, through mental manipulation and guilt mechanisms; ensuring that everything you do, is connected to ‘right’ and ‘wrong’, ‘good’ and ‘sin’ and then, you end up spending a large chunk of your life with the cult members, doing seva of various forms. And then the Guru talks random stuff like, “I know what you are going through. Let it go, set it free. You will feel better.” – as though he knows what IT is. No, he does not. He is counting on your blind faith in him, to “fit” your issues into his words and believe, “Wow! Guruji is really omnipresent, he is really antaryami! He knows what is in my heart and mind.” And thus goes the story.

Meditation is a good way of calming your mind. You do it yourself, with a guided meditation audio in your phone, and you will still feel relief. Hence this is a primary weapon that these cults use. Through meditation, one’s mind does respond, in a different way. However, cults take this as their success. It is so harmful to have your senses opened by cults and to be left all alone in the darkness of the other planes, that the trap keeps getting deeper and deeper. The fear keeps getting larger, and your dependence on the Guruji solidifies into a life long relationship that sounds like, “My life is nothing without Guruji. I will get destroyed if I do not share my problems with him.”

Mostly, the cults have a “living master”, or a “living God” or someone like that. They insist on 100% devotion to “The One”. They can not bear anyone talking ill about their Master and will ensure that the person knows he/she has committed a sin that they would pay for. These Masters travel first class, stay in the best of luxuries and visit foreign countries in name of getting followers. They go to extent of publishing wrong statistics about their sermons. You can not ask them questions. You have to “trust” them unconditionally, because The One trusted YOU unconditionally and CHOSE YOU to be the fortunate one. Being among the followers is being fortunate.

This Master is a good preacher. He knows the psyche of the human mind. He knows how to twist it. He uses positives and negatives and negatives as positives to mess up the followers’ minds. He ensures that he talks about sadness, sorrows, circle of life, importance of Guru, why even Arjun needed Krishna to guide him, importance of surrender etc. etc. so on and so forth. This is to seal dependence of followers into him. When such people play with psyche, they turn young fresh vibrant minds into machines, clueless about what and why they are doing as told.

Another significant characteristic of cults is that nothing comes free. In name of seva, they collect funds, which they claim to use for various charities. However, no one know or dares to ask about where the funds go. Many followers who have given up their karmic lives, to do seva are cited as examples and glorified, saying, become like them. They have given up their luxuries and donated their earnings into the cult. So, slowly, followers who came here for peace of mind and direction to be able to learn ways of life and earn the luxuries of life, slowly are made to give up even what they currently have.

If you are in a similar organization and are being asked to keep it a secret, please ensure that all your antennae are up. Many cults encourage secrecy. They arrange member meetings behind closed doors and preach and preach and preach them to get  more members “inside”. There is an “inside circle” that is not open even to members, esp new members and the new members are encouraged to complete courses to move ahead in their “spiritual path leading to the Master”. As the members start with courses, they become elevated as the next course is always an attraction – to reach the Master. Thus, leaving the cult becomes almost close to impossible, as one keeps moving further, and further.

This circle of exploitation is never-ending and I have not mentioned the “out of ordinary” stuff in this blog post at all – stuff that is tricks of hand, hypnotism, magic, etc. I am assuming that the victims are intelligent enough to understand that “Sweet” can not come out of “thin air” – something a Guruji once produced, and gave it as “prasad/offering” to a troubled lady who had trouble conceiving.

Very recently, and the reason why I was prompted to write this blog, was because I came across the following blog published by Art of Living survivors, one of them, in fact, was an exalted teacher in the group. Although I am not against or in favour of AoL, I think the way these authors have presented the choice of knowledge without thrashing out the cult case in point, is commendable.

They clearly demarcate between their own discoveries within the AoL as an organization, and offer blog readers the choice to explore further or the choice to move away, if they are ardent followers. As opposed to a normal cult behaviour, that emphasizes “conversion”, they offer the wisdom of experience and the freedom to choose.

Anyone interested should check out this: https://aolfree.wordpress.com/2010/10/02/the-purpose-of-these-blogs/

Now, talking about the purpose of my blog, I was in a situation recently, where in I witnessed a young mind getting pulled into the trap of an organization deeper and deeper, and when I researched, I was shocked to see and read the truth. My own brush with another organization, and my “thank god for good sense” that I could recognize that things are not right and listening to my own intuition, walking out bravely, was something that served as a strong blast from the past. I did not want the same to happen to others, however, I have grown wiser and I do realize today, that each one has come into this world, to learn their own lessons and I can not influence anyone.

All I can plead is for God to give common sense to the vulnerable.

Posted in Betrayals, Dreamy, Love, Togetherness

The Wall

As he inched towards her, he could see a shade of fear in her eyes.

The unbroken pieces
The unbroken pieces

His palms encircled her cheeks, to pull her closer to him, his lips locking with hers, uncertainly at first, though finishing the kiss with a soft “I love you”.
She let him kiss her, but he felt something amiss – she wasn’t responding to him.

And then he had flashes of her past – how she had been broken several times – this girl, who could be a blessing in anybody’s life, the way she carried herself now, with all her guards up, had shut down completely.

He wanted to show her that life is not as hard as she thought.
But how could he, someone had messed her mind up completely.

He couldn’t get past that wall, no matter how hard he tried.
She had built it around herself, brick by brick, strong and secure, as a defense mechanism, never to open it to anyone.

Today was a start, a small one, but a start nevertheless.

PS:
This piece of fiction has been written for Write Tribe’s Festival of Words 3 Entry 1: 9 Sentence Fiction

I'm taking part in the Write Tribe Festival of Words -3

PPS:
Photo credits: here