Travel Thy Mind

Note: Meditation practitioners use multiple methods to attain peace. There are some who progress to the level where they can move from dimension to dimension. Others meditate to attain peace. Personally, I have experienced the beauty of this travel. While the story is a figment of imagination, the travel isn’t.

                                                                

                                        

Daniel woke up rubbing his eye; the clock showed 5.00 a.m. He heard raindrops pattering the glass window. While his conscience prodded him to wake up and go about his day, his body pulled him towards the warm blanket. But his mind voice kept reminding him of what Swamiji had said – the best time to practice this is at early morning hours.

Six weeks ago, Daniel had travelled to India. Yeap, he looked out of place as he negotiated his way out of the Meenambakkam Airport. He was sure people thought he was a Nepali. Daniel Chang was a Malaysian of Chinese descendance. An avid traveller, he had travelled to many countries across the world including the Pacific island nations. His memorable trip was to the Cooks Islands, at that time known as the last paradise on earth. With the same vigour that took him across the Pacific, he had travelled to India despite having heard of many stories from past travellers.

Swamiji had said that one should take cold shower head to toe before doing anything else. Daniel stood looking at his shower. Cold shower? He shivered even thinking about it. The dip he took in the river near swamiji’s ashram was still fresh in his mind. It was winter in India when he decided to enjoy low fares to Chennai.

Chennai itself was not very cold, only rainfall was high. But as he travelled to Kodaikanal, a hill station, the temperature started falling and boy, it was really cold! Swamiji’s ashram was in Kodaikanal and there was a small stream that ran adjacent to the ashram; that was where Swamiji had asked him to take a dip in the cold water at 5 a.m. on one historic morning. Historic because that was the first time Daniel took cold shower in his life.

Telling himself that the water could not be colder than the water in the stream, Daniel turned on the shower. Icy droplets hit his body like pin pricks. But only for a few seconds, then his body became accustomed to the temperature. Daniel washed himself up as Swamiji had taught. One needs to be pure in body and mind before doing this meditation, Swamiji had said.

Daniel was a banker by profession. He had worked hard to rise to where he had reached – Regional Director of a foreign bank which had global presence. Hard work aside, he had also used lobbying tactics to rise to that level which was not easy for an Asian. Some banks went by merits, others by many other criteria except merits. Daniel’s employers belonged to the latter. So, Daniel, too had played the corporate game, to get where he wanted to reach.

But things didn’t go quite as he had anticipated. Regional Director was a role that needed mobility. He travelled quite a bit that he used to joke that he spent more time in the air than on the ground. Then again, that was a choice that he had made. The frequent travel added with irregular meals and uncertain lifestyle had taken a toll on his body and mind. When one reaches heights by unethical means, the mind voice would rarely remain silent as we humans were designed like that. The mind or rather the conscience would keep prodding till we corrected our wrong doings. For those who succeeded in silencing the mind voice, the body would take the hit – enter illnesses, sometimes unexplained diseases. Daniel experienced exactly that. He developed pain on the right side of his abdomen. Initially doctors thought it was appendicitis, as there was a slight swelling above his pant’s line. A set of medical tests and a couple of nights’ stay at the hospital isolated appendicitis or any digestive system illnesses as the cause.

Daniel was in intense pain while waiting for a flight back to Kuala Lumpur when he met a lady clad in all white. Her head was shaved and she carried a white colour bag. She had been sitting a few rows away, watching him. At one point when Daniel had doubled in pain, she stood up and walked to his place. She sat beside him and placed her left hand on his shoulder. Daniel was startled.

`I know you are in pain,’ she said in a soothing voice. Daniel sat up and looked at her, trying to smile but the pain was intense. He sat as he clutched his right abdomen. Other fellow passengers in the waiting hall started noticing them.

`Not all pains are physical’, she said, `our illnesses are caused by non-physical reasons.’

That was what Swamiji said – non-physical connection. The entire universe is connected non-physically. Anyone who is not on that platform is bound to suffer maladies, he had said.

Daniel dried himself and attired in fully white clothes – kurta top and pyjama pants. He took a thick blanket and set it on the floor. Then he sat on the blanket in lotus position, holding both hands together in a specific mudra and closed his eyes.

Upon flying back with pain in right abdomen, Daniel got himself admitted into a medical centre. Doctors ran all tests possible and returned the same verdict – there was nothing wrong with him physically. They said he was probably too fatigued from his travel that the body was signalling him to rest.

Daniel reached home, lied down on his bed. He dozed off thinking of what the Swamiji and the woman in white had said. The entire universe is connected non-physically; in other words, the entire make up of existence is pure energy. And he wasn’t connected to that energy. Probably, that was the cause of his malady.

The lady in white had given him Swamiji’s contact and that was how he landed in India, in that wet month of December. The four weeks spent at the ashram taught him that the energy is pure and can only be tainted by human actions. Any action against dharma would taint the energy and its purity. Daniel did not reach the height of his career by just working hard. He joined the corporate game of back-stabbing, plotting the fall of others and what not. The energy didn’t like it and told him its displeasure in its own way. It also brought him towards a new path of meditation.

When Daniel started the meditation at Swamiji’s ashram, he had trouble focusing. The last two weeks had seen him progress on focusing that he had begun to look forward to the meditation sessions.

Daniel saw the blue light. It flickered, changed hues but remained blue. The beauty of the light kept his attention transfixed. It felt as if the light was taking him somewhere. It was compelling him to follow. He felt as if he was moving into a different dimension, a totally different realm. His body felt very light. He was floating along in the blue light which was neither bright nor dim. It felt so good. Then the unexpected happened. It came in a flicker – a flicker of purple. He started searching for the flicker, eyes still closed, mind travelled far away, in pursuit of purple.

Swamiji has told him that it begins from red, progresses to blue then purple. Purple means another two more progression to attain the light. But Daniel had been keen to pursue the colour lights which took him to multiple realms.

The flicker of purple came again, this time he saw a splash of multiple beads of purple, dancing before his eyes. Dance of the cosmos, mesmerizing. He followed the purple light. It seems to take him very far away. Daniel no longer felt his body. He was floating with the purple light and it was taking him far away very fast.

The feel was very refreshing. Nothing mattered, only light around him. Daniel was now surrounded by the purple light. But some tinge of orange seemed to surround the purple. His mind felt relaxed like never before. Bliss. Quiet. Peace. He kept following, engulfed in the light, dancing with it. Utter bliss.

`I found him like this,’ she told the police office, sobbing and wiping her tears.

`When did you find him?’ the officer asked.

`About half hour ago. Tried waking him, but he seemed to have frozen.’

`You touched him?’

`Yes, officer, but he felt warm.’

`Please do not touch anything, miss,’ the officer sounded stern. `This could be a crime scene.’

`But who committed any crime?’ she asked.

The officer did not answer but gave her a stern look. Then he radioed to his base `Male, Chinese in mid-thirties, found in seated position. Need doctor to reconfirm death. Seems no foul play.’

 

When ghost calls...

It was 4.30 a.m. The sky was dark outside. It has been raining the night before, but seemed to have stopped now. Pachiama looked out of her window. Everything was still, nothing moved, not even the chicken in the coop. The estate was shrouded in darkness. Would there be work today, she wondered as she tied up her hair into a bun.

Pachiamma and her family worked as rubber tappers in that estate, owned by a British plantation company. The year was 1977. It has been almost eight years since her family moved into the workers' quarters provided by the management. Her daughters were in their early teen then. They have grown up to be beautiful maidens ever since. Pachiamma had two daughters and a son. Her daughters stopped schooling at the age of twelve. Her son was still studying in school. Among the rural Indian community daughters were not given priority for education. Pachiamma was not given such opportunity, so she did not see why her daughters should be. Now, both girls help her tap rubber in the estate. 

Pachiamma's husband left her for another woman after he son was born. The boy had bad horoscope, the elders in her family had said. Bad horoscope or not she had to raise her children on her own. Finances have been difficult but somehow she had managed to raise them and with her daughters helping her tap rubber, money is a little easier now.

In estates, the norm is to be paid twice a month. And the estate folks use their income to purchase essentials like sugar, rice and other items from the estate grocery store located about a kilometre from the workers quarters. A small narrow lane lined by rubber trees led towards the grocery store. The store was owned by a relative of the estate manager. Prices of items at the store were expensive but without any alternatives, the estate workers had to purchase their necessities from there. There were rumours that the grocery store owner was into black magic and stuff, that if anyone tried to complain about prices of essentials, he apparently would voodoo them that they would die vomitting blood. So, no one complained but went about life purchasing their necessities from that store. Most were on credit, purchases recorded in a small book and paid for upon receipt of salary. Pachiamma used to argue with the grocery store owner; she felt he was over charging the estate folks but she did not believe in voodoo either.

It has been thirty minutes since Pachiamma woke up. She had lit the firewood stove and cooked some plain rice to be taken with them when they go rubber tapping in another half hour. Roll call was at 5.30 a.m. after which the mandore would assign the lot of trees to be tapped by each tapper. The trees were not tapped daily. Rubber trees are tapped on alternate days to allow the tree to rest a day to produce more latex. 

She woke her elder daughter, Lalitha, up. Her son would sleep till 6.30 a.m. before he leaves for school at 7. Mother and daughter started packing their stuff for work, as well as for Pachiamma's second daughter, Latha. Latha was still sleeping. Usually, she would be up before Lalitha, but strangely Latha was still in bed. 

Having ensured everything was packed well, Pachiamma went to wake Latha up. The girl was sleeping with her back facing outward. The family sleeps on a wooden platform, called `vaangu'. There were no mattresses, only a piece of cloth to cover the wood and one pillow each. They used old sarees as blankets. 

Pachiamma called out to Latha, urging her to wake up. Latha was not moving. Strange, thought, Pachiamma, but as the alarm on her old clock went off at 5.30 a.m. Pachiamma hurried to the kitchen to put out the firewood stove and place all her things on one of the three bicycles the family owned. She asked Lalitha to wake Latha up.

The wail was like no other, a blood curling scream from Lalita filled the stillness of the estate in that early morning hour. Pachiamma froze then ran to the room. Lalita was crouched on the floor holding her head, sobbing, screaming. Pachiamma reached out to touch her daughter when she saw the horrifying sight. Blood had oozed out of Latha's nose, dried and the young girl was lifeless! Her eyes were staring into space. The mother froze. Then, darkness...

There were voices around her. Someone was wiping her face. She smelled incense stick, she heard someone sobbing. Slowly, she opened her eyes. The women of the estate were in her house. She tried to get up, someone propped her up against the wall. Lalitha was seated, leaning against the wall on the far side. Her eyes red and swollen from crying. Latha's body was placed in the middle of the house, with a lamp at her head and incense sticks were lit. The smell wafted in the air. 

It took a good moment for Pachiamma to realise there was a death in her home and her second daughter was no more. Women in groups were huddled and whispering. Her mandore was at the door, talking to a policeman. He bade the policeman goodby and came to Pachiamma. 

`When do you want to complete the rites?' he asked. Pachiamma looked at him blankly. They were Hindus. According to tradition, the dead would be cremated before sun down. It was already 10 a.m. From the looks of it, no one had gone to work that day. The body had to be bathed, decked in her best clothes, complete all rites and cremated by sun down. The rites have to be completed by her son, as the sole male in the family. Thirty days of mourning and life would never be the same again.

Pachiamma did not answer. The mandore stood up and started giving instructions to all around. Pachiamma went through the last rites in a daze. She still could not accept that her second child was no more. Latha was born at seven months, before full term. Thus Pachiamma had special affections for her and Latha was the prettier one between the two. The bubbly and lively girl could carry more latex than her sister when they went rubber tapping. 

In the beginning, both girls assisted Pachiamma, but since the previous week both were assigned with their own lot of rubber trees to tap. She has been worried, refused to let them work alone, but the mandore had convinced her that they were very experienced and would get more salary if they worked on their own. She had agreed and now she was no longer sure whether her decision was right. What happened that Latha died bleeding in her nose?

The menfolk returned after the cremation, washed the house. A neighbour brought some food. With her came a very old woman, leaning on a stick. She had a big red bindhi on her forehead. 

The old woman sat beside Pachiamma and held her hands. `Amma, do not cry,' she said. `Last week there was a similar death at a nearby estate.' 

`That was also a very young girl. She died the same way, bleeding in her nose.'

Pachiamma lifted her face and looked at the old woman. She didn't hear of any death the week before.

`Young girls who go rubber tapping are often followed by ghosts,' the old woman said. `They would feel as if someone is walking behind them, or may call out their name.'

Now, Pachiamma remembered. Yes, Latha did say she heard someone call her name on the second day she went rubber tapping on her own. But when she turned, there wasn't anyone. Pachiamma had rubbished that girl. It could have been the mandore, she told her daughter. 

The old woman continued. `When something like that happens, the girls should stop immediately, stand still and make a circle around them using the big toe of the right foot.' Then, apparently, the ghost would go away and not bother the person again. Pachiamma remembered her late grandmother saying this but at that age she had laughed at such superstitions. Her own grandmother had said that when people died bleeding in their noses, it meant that during the night, the ghost had come and taken the soul away.

This old woman also seemed to say the same thing.  In estates, superstitions were in abundance and people like Pachiamma chose not to believe them because she had a life to live and children to raise. Superstitions could derail the confidence of a person, bring on fear and Pachiamma did not have any room for fear as she has to work to support her family.  It sort of made sense to Pachiamma. The estate folks had shared many stories about the unseen which Pachiamma would usually ignore. The grocery store owner's voodoo for one. And she was his enemy. Looks like she had ignored too much and paid a heavy price. Perhaps, like her grandmother did, she should have alerted her daughters to stand still and make a circle around them using the big toe of the right foot when they felt some presence around them. Perhaps, Latha would still be alive. Perhaps...

Note: In rubber estates, superstitions were strife those days. Utilities were limited, facilities were unheard of and life had to be lived as it came. To overcome life issues, the estate folks had practiced some believes which today, we call `superstitions'. This story is just a work of creative imagination based on stories heard from my late grandfather who was an estate mandore during his younger days and had not intended to adversely comment on any group of people.