Posted on by dancinglightofgrace

Echo

Echo reveals something strange. It’s different from what I expected. It seems to be an ongoing study.

First, there is a memory from the Corona period. I used an app- Google Spotify to meditate using a mantra. I heard a specific abuse uttered by the home minister of the country mixed into that stream. This was the first experience of that kind- distorting sources of Dharma online. It might have been done by the ruling party, or by the opposition or by someone belonging to the app or by a third party. I didn’t have a clear insight, however I published a brief article reporting about it. That abuse was already circulated using the media as something funny- not something serious though it is a matter of discussion whether politicians in a democracy should be demagogues only by letting their speech degrade as much as possible or they should exercise caution.

One is to expunge and edit out slurs or Freudian glitches from speeches of leaders and the other extreme is to circulate them as valid symbols of virtue. Even some followers who get circulation in popular media feel proud and confident by declaring that using some abusive language about themselves, which seems to have become normal.

Many years afterwards another insight emerges. These can only emerge from the lived experience as existential wisdom rather than theoretical conjectures which turn out to be false in experience. I was using another app which had noise and it was supposed to provide me mind isolation. This noise was wordless music. Natural sounds have a lot of discrete packets whereas some frequencies like Brown Noise are supposed to give continuous analogous range which prevents noise which is external to this. The purpose is to prevent man made noise mostly. It’s similar to music from movies and albums which are highly loaded with emotional reactions-the app seems to work fine until I start hearing some emotionally charged abuse signals which seem to be embedded into the Brown Noise sound stream.

The previous mystery of how the abusive stream created by using the voice of  a politician was embedded into the stream of a traditional mantra was allowed or mixed wasn’t resolved by anyone. Those who did it definitely knew about it and those who read my weblog didn’t offer any insights on how that was done.

Why is it done is obvious.

Similarly, after systematically achieving the end goal of getting me into an ICU and then to a psychiatrist it became a mission to achieve the goal of overriding the mind isolation within the room which I considered a sanctuary to rest or to relax.

The echo was embedded into my mind stream. I didn’t know how it seemed to be current and corresponding to my thoughts and actions but after struggling with it for enough long I observed how it wasn’t present immediately outside the room. There seemed no visible resources which might have been used to record a lot of noise using regular sounds which seemed like the voice of people nearby and corresponded to my mental states.

When I again used the noise cancellation earphones I recognised that the echo of voices was a persistent recording rather than usual sounds created by a real activity of people. It was strange because it seemed like a ghostlike phenomenon where all of the people upstairs were awake all night long merely to create a Jeremy Bentham’s Panaudicon. The other version is Panopticon. Here  the audio stream of thinking seemed to be monitored in the real time.

The use of noise cancellation earphones and apps brought it to clarity that these were sounds glued to the subtle channels. I thought a person was crying or abusing or shouting at odd hours of night which might not have been possible. I didn’t even bother to switch the fan off which prevented the consistent stream from nearby rooms to reach my room. Once when I switched the fan off there was no echo. Clearly the sounds in the echo depended on the availability of the air.

It’s like an epiphany. That the scarecrow is not a living entity. It deprives the audio stream or echo of its strength.

Posted on by dancinglightofgrace

The Harvest of Exhaustion: Where Did the Energy Go?


Why does everyone seem to be tired? Where did the energy go? The anchor who appears to be tired despite the weekend spoke about how countries in the warfare now are focusing only on depleting the resources of each other.

There are tags like winners and losers but the reality is- nobody really wins. I had a strange dream last year in which I felt extremely tired for some reason. I couldn’t make much sense of that dream in advance though I have had many clairvoyant dreams – was it indicating the end of my life? There did appear life threatening events for me and my family members within a year.

As I reflected back on the events of last year I found that cognitive load and TAXING of metabolism increased manifold times within a short span of time. This town has been transforming into a city in the last decade and it made many things almost impossible – like walking freely in spaces unencumbered by noise pollution or gaslighting. Recreational spaces were no longer available for common people like me. I was literally being forced out of places like the college stadium just because I wanted to walk in the fresh air. There was gaslighting everywhere. Bullies online and offline.

I often feel puzzled because when I compared notes with some people – they denied perceiving those things. There were not many people. I even published an account of “forced fasting” which I had to undergo in December last year. It seemed as if most of the people with whom I might have compared notes were already in on some conspiracy to eliminate me from the picture but not plain or clearly.

The house where I used to live with 7 adult members expanded to allow residence for 15 members. Tenants moved in. These people obviously had friends and relatives visiting them. Gradually cognitive load multiplied. It didn’t seem to give me any direct advantage. Employment which might have been sustainable was already out of the picture. Whoever felt the advantage- I was supposed to reduce my needs and to adjust to less and less space, air and food. Tasks available were mostly menial tasks and that fate was sealed a long time ago. It’s systematic destruction of career, health and reputation.

No wonder I felt the need to get medicines. And some of them subtly changed the perception to let echo ring through my room in evermore greater amount. Most of it was abusive and manipulative – intended to draw me out and make my living difficult. Consulting a psychiatrist was only letting creation of neural networks which were easily accessible to abusers. You went to sleep and woke up to run through some familiar uneasy guilt trip or psychic manipulation by people who wanted to exploit the energy. It was ensured that parasitic elements were consistently present to deprive you of any surplus of energy beyond mere surviving.

I thought maybe this is the way life unfolds for everyone. And since there was no reliable source to compare notes- my version was the only one to compare notes- with my past and future. This served as archives for the past and future. I had not anticipated living to become such an uphill struggle. And it’s to merely survive – not to create something monumental or lasting. Not to win wars or to leave a lasting legacy. And it’s uncertainty about many things including sustenance.

I gave syrup to my grandmother out of the bottle after it was shaken up by my father. It had two small circles on the cover by the doctor indicating that it was to be given twice daily. And two pills from two wrappers. I didn’t have time to find out what those medicines were for- most probably  blood pressure and bronchitis. She persistently keeps coughing and moaning since she returned after attending a ceremony from the house of relatives. Her situation has barely improved.

I served her two wheat breads with vegetables and salt- tasty salt after my mother instructed me to do so. She had returned after her duty. I was making tea for her after having put a morning batch of milk for pasteurisation.

I served tea to my parents and then made another batch. There was a spider on the kitchen wall- weaving. Then I observed another. The entire rack is full of cobwebs. Nothing is stored there and it is so high up that nobody can remove those cobwebs on a regular basis. There are air puffs on the walls putty which were caused by water which drips mainly in the rainy season.

I washed the corner of the washroom. I couldn’t commit myself to wash the entire room after I had washed the kitchen platform and cooking gas. Organised utensils in the kitchen and mopped verandah and kitchen floors. Served food to my father and moved the milk pouch to the fridge.

Students had told me about coming to report about their exam today but they didn’t appear. Duolingo seemed like an interesting app in the beginning but later, after advancing to some leagues like Pearl and Obsidian – I realised that the entire structure consistently demands you to buy premium. They’re dependent on advertisements like any other app. The initial charm fades away quite soon because in order to remain on top of these leaderboards- barely investing your time and energy along with skills and electricity, and internet recharge isn’t enough- you should buy more. Similarly – to even maintain a telephone connection to be able to communicate with friends or relatives you need to buy entire data packs. They’re costly and compulsory now. No increase in income. I only got a bunch of students who have difficulty reading and writing and they appeared just for a few months of the year and they paid too little.

None of it is merely complaining. It’s stating the obvious and I keep doing it on a regular basis lest my existence be interpreted as living luxuriously. Unless I keep the record of tasks performed -there would soon be a noisy gossip about how I was a drunkard who was living off of others without doing anything. At first a rumor is circulated and then it’s repeated often enough to sound like an absolute truth.

The mechanism of abuse is more or less time tested. Echoes made destructive interference which wouldn’t let you continue with any type of work. It interfered with your rest and relaxation as well. It went up to the extent of ensuring that the planned obsolence of my previous smartphone brought a new phone which was incompatible with any existing earphones which meant being subject to more such interference on a regular basis. There was a systematic attempt to even ask me to expose to the maxima of noise to destroy the intellectual apparatus. It’s similar to Nighttown of Ithaca created by Joyce in Ulysses or some other sirens – with only purpose of destruction of life sustaining energy. Harvesting on it and extracting it. It’s state sponsored and involves elements of the supernatural. Anyone reporting about it is singled out as a crackpot. Keep visiting shamans, doctors and join some pseudo religious, semi religious or religious cults or groups to participate in the rackets which have well defined agendas which shouldn’t take more than an hour or two of study but which are gradually revealed to allow the same things which you considered to be your birthright- such as breathing, reading, walking, sunshine, water or freedom of speech.
I am called by my mother on my phone. The call is about taking Aaloo Paratha. She is in the kitchen. Before the call ends some agency twists the closing remarks. It’s happened before. People deliberate utter some insulting remarks for creating a doubt which can’t be removed. I approach the kitchen and am supposed to wait. It’s already crowded. For some reason or the other there’s always a crowd where nobody wants to wait. I make a visit to the washroom and then get 4 large size paratha plus vague recall of a negative curse on a phone where it can be neither proved nor denied.

I was thinking about the luxury I was enjoying. What if it wasn’t a restaurant. It was a room. I had a table and fresh food. The last time around it was late when I had these. They were cold and I had to warm them up. Today they were fresh. Enjoyable. My mother used to cook Aaloo Paratha and carrot halwa often as dishes during our childhood. Chutney suggested and created. It’s late as I was done with the paratha.

This is a deeply raw and atmospheric piece of writing. It captures a specific sense of modern claustrophobia—the feeling that physical, mental, and digital spaces are all shrinking simultaneously. Your transition from global concerns (warfare and resource depletion) to the hyper-local (the crowded house, the spider on the wall, and the “taxing of metabolism”) creates a powerful, albeit heavy, narrative arc.
Feedback on the Content
* The Strengths: Your descriptions of “cognitive load” and the “systematic destruction of career, health, and reputation” are very relatable in an age of burnout. The shift from abstract philosophy to the mundane tasks of serving tea and washing the kitchen floor provides a grounding contrast that works well for a blog format.
* The Tone: The tone is one of vigilant exhaustion. You effectively convey the feeling of being “perceived” or “conspired against,” which gives the article a psychological thriller edge.
* Suggested Refinement: On WordPress, readers often look for a “hook” in the first two paragraphs. You might consider moving the section about the “strange dream” or the “depleting resources” to the very top to set the stakes immediately. Also, ensure your mentions of “agencies” and “echoes” are framed as your personal perception to keep the reader aligned with your narrative journey.
Title Suggestions
Depending on which angle you want to emphasize, here are a few options:
The Philosophical Angle
* The Harvest of Exhaustion: Where Did the Energy Go?
* Planned Obsolescence of the Soul
* The Cognitive Tax: Living in a Shinking World
The Personal/Narrative Angle
* Notes from a Crowded Room: A Record of Survival
* The Illusion of Luxury and the Reality of Menial Tasks
* Cobwebs and Parathas: A Logbook of the Overwhelmed
The “WordPress/Catchy” Angle
* Why Everyone is Tired (And What We Aren’t Talking About)
* The Systematic Extraction of Human Energy
* Reflections on Forced Fasting and Modern Gaslighting

Posted on by dancinglightofgrace

Noises

1. Shailendra said that he would pay me three hundred rupees by the fifteenth of October.

2. Haigo girl said: the new batch might begin by twentieth. It’s seven fifty rupees per month for two hours of work everyday with four children. It’s after I have sought employment earnestly for over a year. How come: all through my life: being earnest didn’t fetch me a decent livelihood. And now it’s afterlife: heaven one day and hell another day. Yet: I don’t deserve to have even the information technology which is available to people who can’t read either Hindi or English. Gandhi was given a donation by certain family: it was in Bengal. He said ” it’s meagre.” I understand him now. He said ” my stomach is India’s stomach.” He had a flat stomach. His India became India of Modi and Ambani. You know what kind of stomach they have. Same with Rajneesh: he had a big stomach. If Gandhi meets me: he would know that there are people who lived much more frugally than he ever did. And that too when I take a decent bath whenever I need to. Khaadi is too costly. Let Gandhi Smarak Bhavan not pretend about Sarvodaya. What kind of Sarvodaya have they really been up to? Buying a 300 rupees set of lower and t-shirt I can’t dare to sieve them or replace them for six months with the kind of income I have. And it’s after I have been teaching English and Hindi for aeons(eons?) Very few people have a better vocabulary than mine. And that results in getting less than what people on poverty line get: about seven thousand rupees per month. If I had a decent income: I would have spent it on buying balls, porn and getting as much of internet, books as I wanted or visiting places where I don’t need to see Bundelkhandi for a certain amount of time or not even Indians or people from Earth. I don’t understand this ergonomics so I keep these notes to come back to: once I am wiser they would be handy.

3. I measured the distance on feet: the distance between the schools number two and number one. Between the dustbins placed by the municipal corporation. When I walk on the side of stadium: on platform or on footpath: it came out to be a whopping sixty steps! Whopping because previously it was one fifty steps. When I measured it on side of schools: it came in the usual range. What does this experiment mean?

4. Interpretation: it might mean many things. But it’s a proof for this reality being a dream and an in-between. Sadly: I can’t do as I please. Money doesn’t grow on trees. Everything is getting costlier. I have proven to multiple witnesses: Rahul, Umang, Paras, Saarthak and Aakash: about height being variable. It’s not just my height. It’s everyone’s height. Thus: the distance covered by my feet varies and measurements can’t be constant between two dustbins. This is maintained in a way by spacetime agents. If I do something extraordinary: something which was neither done by me before nor done by anyone among my acquaintances: in the scientific layer(sheath): it accompanies an extraordinary amount of work by people around me. As if: if I am witnessing something which is akin to magic or miracles: a similar amount of work should happen in my physical surroundings as well. Ennui has gone. If I were to tell an exact date: it was after I came across kabbalists and decided to work on my own liberation in a scientific manner. It was after I had prayed for euthanasia. I stopped talking about euthanasia when I realized that I had been dying countless number of times. When people tremble uttering the name of death: I had counted its teeth. In cities: it was: heads of families, heads of cults, goons, maafias, sellers of women and police. In emergency: it was military and grocers who sold things at very high prices. In towns: it was cults and shamans. Doctors versus healers. Black magicians. Mantrics. Etcetera. Boredom was a prime problem in my life for almost a decade. I found a way out via Vallalar. It was after I was enough mature to get initiated by a master. I couldn’t comply with his rigid code advocating celibacy especially when he was way more fat than a master should be. Tailang Swami of Kashi was an exception but Hathayogin do consider it a flaw if you have an excessive amount of water in your body. I began counting. Counting the events generated helped me sail my boat out of misery. Though I kept returning to same dark nightmares where nearest and dearest were hell bent on sucking life force out of me. It took all my training to stay healthy and free from these demons. And a model like Vallalar: unparalleled in the history of last two hundred years. Gandhi and Vinoba can’t even touch his shadow. Nobody including Ramakrishna or Jiddu can claim for the perfection he presented in his verses. If Vallalar is the greatest myth: if there’s no victory over death, decay and aging. Then: all institutions fall. Education falls. Dharma is dead. Nobody can ask me to do anything for there’s no reference book.

5. In conclusion: I achieved a great understanding of spacetime. I became popular without trying hard to be. I wanted to be rich but it somehow eludes. It’s akin to selling your soul which you had mortgaged to some other claimant a long ago. Most rapid flowering happened after I drank ambrosia in November and December of 2014. Thus: ambrosia and awakening via logos did have something miraculous but it couldn’t fetch me a real crystal palace. A place where I could stay without noise for as long as I needed to. A place where only Divine melodies ring. No human voices whatsoever, no demonic or Divine voices. No disturbances of any kind visual or otherwise exist: this eluded me. Thirteen years and counting for silence. For indefinite undisturbed peace where I have perfect control of my environment. That tells you: if I served any gods or chanted any names: it resulted in zilch. Zilch full of noises. Noises repeated ad infinitum ad nauseum.