Truth is in every leaf, every tear

God or truth cannot be thought about. If you think about it, it is not truth. Truth cannot be sought; it comes to you. You can go after only what is known. When the mind is not tortured by the known, by the effects of the known, then only can truth reveal itself. Truth is in every leaf, every tear; it is to be known from moment to moment. No one can lead you to truth; and if anyone leads you, it can only be to the known.

- J.K.

So, what can I call this?

Death in varanasi. Constant, continuous. The fire is on duty 24/7, 365 d-days of the year. Everyday vast amounts of energy, among other things, are expended in the Harishchandra and Manikarnika Ghats. My boatman calls Manikarnika Ghat the “burning palace”. Interesting image, that. Which is what Varanasi is. An interesting image which should be looked at like a mirror looks at things. Just observe Varanasi. Live in its time, in its faith, in its communion of Hinduism and you will enjoy the impact of what most people would call “Shiva Energy in Shiva City”. Its electric. Electric, since 3000 b.c. That sounds like a company. I should make a logo for that. The type within some sort of oval shape, electric in italics, b.c. In a beautiful serif with pretty edges at 5 pt. Yes. That is control. Ok, back to where we left off. Benaras. Today at Harishchandra I saw a set of very interesting scenes running in parallel. There was the respectable, well-loved person about to be set ablaze by his weeping son in white robes. He was holding onto three people and really crying his heart out loud. Face lost in a trance. The three or four people around his particular pyre crying into handkerchiefs. Man comforting another by holding him. So many emotions, cannot for certain say that all these were either genuine, heartfelt or the customised conditioning system of expected behaviour. But I am only observing and reporting. I dont really want to comment because all this is only opinion and opinion doesn’t really have much of a role to play in the bigger picture of, err, things. When you understand who you really are you will become a sort of throughness and a sort of thoughtlessness. Back to the scenes at Harishchandra, just on the otherside a baba carrying a trishul (a 3-headed spear) came and stood close to another burning pyre while standing on a rock. And just behind me a mother slept on a bench, her children running around under her trying to remind her to feed them. But they are also playing among themselves while trying to catch her attention. No time wasted there. Suddenly she smells something and wakes up and jumps off the bench and runs to sniff to see if she smells another dog in her territory. Pups follow. And on my way home, I stopped at dimly lit chai shop on I-dont-remember-which Ghat. Girl served me chai. A pretty thing, scarf around her head, English lettertype on red woollen sweater. Her brother and sister (I presume), about 4 and 5 maybe, making funny sounds of birds and randomness. Randomness and thoughtlessness are absolutely wonderful to see in this world of logic and opinion. Oh, just remembered I spoke to two gentlemen at Harishchandra Ghat. They spoke of Hinduism, about the children who take the little pieces of body, the ones that haven’t burnt out, to keep them burning till they turn to ash. They get a little fee for grabbing these pieces at the fag-end (no pun intended) of the burning procedure. One of them, a Marathi, spoke of how Bal Thackeray is useful because he keeps India from becoming a Muslim nation. Interesting perspective. I am not for it or against it. Just a way of looking at things, I guess. The other guy spoke of how large Muslim families are. One husband, four wives, some eight to ten children. A way to overpopulate the world so Islam becomes a majority and takes over once and for all. He also said that in his caste, death is a celebration. There is a 13-day party after the death where priests are fed. That was refreshing to hear. Atleast some of “us” hindu’s have celebration as a compulsory at some point in a man’s life , err, death actually. Oh, and the girl in the chai shop? It really seemed to me that Indra Okat was looking at me through her eyes. It was a strange, yet lovely feeling.

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Excerpt from "Thoughtless Thoughts"

THERE DO EXIST ENQUIRING MINDS, which long for the truth of the heart, seek it, strive to solve the problems set by life, try to penetrate to the essence of things and phenomena and to penetrate into themselves. If a man reasons and thinks soundly, no matter which path he follows in solving these problems, he must inevitably arrive back at himself, and begin with the solution of the problem of what he is himself and what his place is in the world around him. For without this knowledge, he will have no focal point in his search. Socrates’ words, “Know thyself” remain for all those who seek true knowledge and being.

LIBERATION LEADS TO LIBERATION. These are the first words of truth—not truth in quotation marks but truth in the real meaning of the word; truth which is not merely theoretical, not simply a word, but truth that can be realized in practice. The meaning behind these words may be explained as follows:
By liberation is meant the liberation which is the aim of all schools, all religions, at all times.

This liberation can indeed be very great. All men desire it and strive after it. But it cannot be attained without the first liberation, a lesser liberation. The great liberation is liberation from influences outside us. The lesser liberation is liberation from influences within us.

Excerpt from VIEWS FROM THE REAL WORLD by G.I. Gurdjieff

Empire of Worry

Your smiles have shape, they're walking apart, you see the world and war apart.
To see my life upon my shoulder, shutting down it seems...

Solo

Solo cello
A kind of drone
Enveloping time like molecules to a frame

Solo piano
A kind of peace
Absorbing air, pressing metal and wood

Solo guitar
A kind of flutter
Fingers and palms singing in absolute unison

"YOU ARE GOD", a graphic novel

A revolutionary begins a sort of experiment with currency. He starts spreading the word to followers of the concept of awakening to the new earth and the new man through money notes. The project begins with a website - yagoroued.com. There are concepts and ideas classified into numbers and letters, such as 12C and 1300F, etc. Each letter stands for a concept, like light, education, family, life, death, love, etc. 12C would be 12th discourse on C. These could be subjects, ideas, opinions - all signalling a sort of change to bring about a new man. So, over time these numbers would be written on the currency that keeps spreading. For those who know how to use the internet, the message “12c, yagoroued.com” is enough. And this goes on and goes bringing about a revolutionary sort of change to the way people things. Currency is the only medium which can reach everyone. This is a fictitious story of the start of a new revolution.

This commune of sorts is also involved in the publicity of their messages through guerrila advertising tactics. People basically come together to spread the concept of inner awareness, self-depth and a new consciousness.

Slow

I have slowed down time,
Real slow.
Everything is done slowly, patiently, meditatively,
Even if it is pouring mugs of water into the bucket.
Slow, real slow.
Time stands still.
To this very moment, to the present.
There is only stillness and a slowness to things.
Beyond that, nothing, absolutely nothing.

Who are you?

Atom-green, we are all that. Matter and inner-mind, body and soul. Self and no-self. There is a place where you can go. Everything is clear there. There are no covers, no curtains, no identities, no possessions, nothing. Just nothing. Here you can hear the silence of infinite space, you can feel the space of infinite silence on your fingertips as you move your hand along the waves of the vacuum. A spectrum of seven colours, a song with twelve notes. A moment of nothingness transforms and moves through this space like hours, days, years, centuries. All time is meaningless because the only time that is there is now. The moment. Past and future all illusory now, meaningless.

Where is this place? Distance-wise? It requires a second to go there. Maybe less than a second. Suddenly everything drops from your hand, your mind drops from you. You are then all in one, one in all. Moving, changing, from second to second. Every moment is new, every moment is you, without you. You are then not Mr. so-and-so, Miss so-and-so, Mrs. So-and-so. You are not your bank balance, you are not what you own, you are not what you know, you are not who you know, you are just an is-ness. You is. That’s all. You exist in the oneness with earth. You are one of the elements of life, a simple moving coloured-dot in the ocean of worldcolour. This is the door into you, into the centre of you. Who you are. Who are you? When you cannot answer that, you are finally you. Your central core. A nothingness beyond words and images.

Letters to (from) friends

The Professor Scarfman writes:

Dude, to be honest thyngZ are not so good. I cannot find work at all. My days are as random as anti-structure itself. All those promises to come viziT you in India. I am going through life openly saying I'll do this and I'll do that and it is not happening. It is not a good time for empire.

But I do have a Mac now, so that's useful for communicating wherever I want. Freed from the desktop regime. Remember at your place in Nott Hill when the upstairs bastar* banged on their floor cuz the music was too loud?

Well, our neighbour next is playing this bullshit carribean music at 6am and it makes me fuQQyn* sick. Never have I heard such shi* musiQ. Really. I thought music was about respecting and organising sound carefully, but this reggae-type stuff is just some of the poorest forms of music I ever heard. I thynQ I am culturalist. I cannot and do not accept West Indian music. Instrumentation, formation of rhythms and harmonies. Just really poor sounding indeed. It's worse than kid's chart stuff. It's like being asked to listen to the same song over and over, but someone else has it on repeat just at a time when you wish to rest and dream about imaginary swans and their cubes. It's sickening man. Life is about loving each other, but love is corrupt man, but imbeciles ruin the sophistos who know how to use their mental gifts in bringing joy to others. Not this asshol*. He plays this dreadful mess and it enters my perspective, destroyingwhat was a peaceful state of mind. One of life's most disturbing yet oblongular concepts Prem of Prem. Imagine being forced to watch the most disturbingly poor movie over and over again, watching the pathetic direction, terrible editing etc...This level of torture should be collected in a glass vesicle and sold as evil, cuz it's evil alright!. People don't have to kill or terrorise through destruction as reported by the evil media. Artistic distortion from a disrespectful mind makes me wanna hurl huge chunkZ of vomituous nonsense from my post digested history.

This concept of feeling love for all. I wish I could feel love for all. But all around me there is incompetence man or PREM. Sure, I might be the world's most undiscovered unrecruited circus performer, but I still get angry at human ineptitude. Constantly in my received perception day after day. Focusing on this supposed negative makes me feel so sad for the species Homosapien! Are we not supposed to be skilled, respectful of each other? Capable, intelligent? Yet, cretins exist Prem, whether it's there in your home town or here in mountainous yet villainous Brixton.

Not all is bad, just that a quality of life spans many dimensions of experience, no? Not just the creative and social, but the PEACE dimension!

Peace Premjit R aka DirectoR.

Would love to have a pipe with you man!
nic.K aka nic.K

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And I, the Deractor, replies:

Ouch to the creaturefoot of civilisation, this wondersoul does not bringeth joy. This rubbersoul brings pain simply cos its made of rubber and not love. Love bringeth love, hate does not dispel hate, only love can. :)

I think you should begin reading some OSHO. He is amazing. A brilliant new journey for me. I am still in Benares, I will be here for a while. Its real and very simple, I do not have running water, there is a bucket outside my room with water and I have to step out and fill my foam bucket with clones of water in order to fulfill the duties of my super son. Frugality at its best. Love it. Very meditative, like thoughtbuckets into the everlasting you of me.

I thought you moved to Swiss-er-land man? Why you back in London? I dont think London can give you any joy, only clones of cheap love found on soulmates and the like. Remember how we used to arrange dates and go on them, wow, those days seem so alien to me, now that I have taken the visceral path of the discovery of self, an awakening of sorts, like fruits, like roses, a blossoming out of time, out of words and messages.

Come to India whenever you can man, I will welcome you with open arms and brotherly love, guaranteed. I am very sorry for having told you earlier about keeping your brighton-esque mentalities aside etc, that was very childish of me. What you are, you are now, the past and the future mean nothing. You are now, you are love, you are all that you can ever be only in this one moment. So, do come and we will live like brothers discovering ourselves in this oneness of life on this new earth.
Love and lots of good wishes to you my brother.

The Deractor.

Welcome to Hinterland, Mr. Isaac Niemand. :)

I can safely say that I have found the centre of me. And I have never been happier. I am aware of every second, also aware of the uncertainty of the next. Every moment can be special, its all in your mind.