A reason to go insane
It was late at night on the eve of October 7th, 2005. I was in my bedroom getting high; either on the energy of the night or on marijuana; honestly I don't remember. It's safe to assume that I had a joint because in those days I did smoke up. I had previously sealed the door to my bedroom with Styrofoam and knocked down one of the windows overlooking the back of the garden, making a doorway and putting a ladder there. This was the only entrance and exit to the studio/bedroom which went under a tamarind tree into the back of the garden. I remember the night watchman standing at the entrance as I spoke to him and explained in my own way what it was I was doing.
I used to sleep on a single spring mattress that was aligned to have the head towards the holy cube in Mecca. On this mattress were black bed sheets, black pillows and a black comforter. I used to sleep soundly often feeling like my body was larger than life somehow. I was definitely high on energy. There was something about that night and the way the heavens above were aligning. I decided to use that energy to clean up the room. I was all over the place, going back and forth.
And then it happened.
I picked up the two pillows and placed them in the center of the bed on which i took this beautiful hand embroidered shawl that had rainbow colors in it, folded it neatly and placed it on top of the pillows. The comforter was next, making it a rainbow sandwich with black toasts. All this I packed up with the black bedsheets which I then tied up with one end of a long white rope. I found an old envelope I had designed for the KaraFilm Festival with the number five printed on it in Urdu and taking a pencil and a market i sat on the now white mattress with the huge black parcel before me, once again, facing the west.
The night watchman smiled. 'This is black magic' I told him. Not that I know how to do black magic; it was a pun on the words black and magic. The parcel before me was black and the magic referred to how I had been cleaning up the room so fast.
On the envelope I drew a black cube with a snake coming out of it and then with the pencil I started drawing circles in one continuous stroke. I sat still with only my wrist shaking violently as i drew more and more circles encircling the cube and the snake. It was almost as if I was drawing energy from somewhere and transferring it into the black bundle on my bed.
After maybe five odd minutes of energy transfers, I took the other end of the rope, walked down the ladder and buried it into the soil at the landing, meaning to transfer all that energy, negative and positive into the ground. I walked back up the ladder into the room and took the bundle and dumped it onto the floor. THUD!
That night I went to sleep with no bedsheets and no pillows. It was a sound sleep. I woke up the next evening unaware of what had happened that morning. After all, how was I supposed to know? I went downstairs and joined my family for dinner. I hadn't seen the sun at all. I felt dizzy. 'Do you know whats happened today?' my sister asked. I gave her a blank look. And then the family bombarded me with tragic news about the earthquake that had hit Azad Kashmir that morning, the morning of October 8th, 2005. I burst into tears. Crying hysterically I shouted 'put a gun to this fuckers head and pull the trigger!' I explained what I had done the night before. 'Do you feel like your body is larger than life at times?' my father asked me as his looks penetrated my forehead with energy I could feel. How did he know? And what did it mean?
I felt, as insane as it may sound, that I was chosen as God's right hand. That He had used me cause the earthquake. Everytime someone spoke about the earthquake, I had this immense guilt inside me. The guilt drove me a few months later to go upnorth myself on a photographic expedition to capture the horror and misery I had caused. The people there I spoke to said that it was like the day of judgement that had been described in the Book.
It was depressing to say the least. But at the same time, there was something about the energy fields of Muzaffarabad that made it an almost magical place. No one knew quite what it was. Maybe it was just the crux of Earths own energy field. Although I had a lot of company, I kept mostly to myself there. Then one day upon returning to my tent I noticed something strange. Someone had left a bundle in my quarters. A bundle made of white sheets used for wrapping dead people, tied together with a rope with thorns around the rope. It was almost identical to the bundle I had crafted myself back home. Ignoring it, I decided to work on my laptop and as I sifted through my photographs it felt as if someone had jabbed a huge nail in the back of my right hand. I screamed in agony. Was this punishment for the hineous crime I had committed? Whatever it was, had been on a metaphysical level as there was nothing there in reality. I nevertheless applied deep heat cream on my hand and tore out a strip of white cloth from the bundle that was lying there. This bundle was the first thing that reminded me of Jesus Christ somehow. It just seemed like his wardrobe with the thorns to make his crown and everything.
Overcome with grief and sorrow I came back after five days. On my way back during the few hour long car ride in the mountains I was enjoying a joint when I saw a flash of the Christ statue in Rio, glowing, made out of light. Some people say that he had come all the way to Azad Kashmir and spent the remaining of his days there. I dont know how far its true. All I know is what I have experienced and would continue to over the next few years.
After four years I don't feel guilt. I dont feel sorrow. I don't even think about it often. I have realized that I'm not important enough to be God's right hand. Furthermore I dont think he needs people like me to 'cause' circumstances for Him. He can do as and how He pleases Himself.
What I was part of that night may just be heightened levels of syncronicty; a coincidence. All I want to know is... why so many coincidences pointing in the same direction?
I used to sleep on a single spring mattress that was aligned to have the head towards the holy cube in Mecca. On this mattress were black bed sheets, black pillows and a black comforter. I used to sleep soundly often feeling like my body was larger than life somehow. I was definitely high on energy. There was something about that night and the way the heavens above were aligning. I decided to use that energy to clean up the room. I was all over the place, going back and forth.
And then it happened.
I picked up the two pillows and placed them in the center of the bed on which i took this beautiful hand embroidered shawl that had rainbow colors in it, folded it neatly and placed it on top of the pillows. The comforter was next, making it a rainbow sandwich with black toasts. All this I packed up with the black bedsheets which I then tied up with one end of a long white rope. I found an old envelope I had designed for the KaraFilm Festival with the number five printed on it in Urdu and taking a pencil and a market i sat on the now white mattress with the huge black parcel before me, once again, facing the west.
The night watchman smiled. 'This is black magic' I told him. Not that I know how to do black magic; it was a pun on the words black and magic. The parcel before me was black and the magic referred to how I had been cleaning up the room so fast.
On the envelope I drew a black cube with a snake coming out of it and then with the pencil I started drawing circles in one continuous stroke. I sat still with only my wrist shaking violently as i drew more and more circles encircling the cube and the snake. It was almost as if I was drawing energy from somewhere and transferring it into the black bundle on my bed.
After maybe five odd minutes of energy transfers, I took the other end of the rope, walked down the ladder and buried it into the soil at the landing, meaning to transfer all that energy, negative and positive into the ground. I walked back up the ladder into the room and took the bundle and dumped it onto the floor. THUD!
That night I went to sleep with no bedsheets and no pillows. It was a sound sleep. I woke up the next evening unaware of what had happened that morning. After all, how was I supposed to know? I went downstairs and joined my family for dinner. I hadn't seen the sun at all. I felt dizzy. 'Do you know whats happened today?' my sister asked. I gave her a blank look. And then the family bombarded me with tragic news about the earthquake that had hit Azad Kashmir that morning, the morning of October 8th, 2005. I burst into tears. Crying hysterically I shouted 'put a gun to this fuckers head and pull the trigger!' I explained what I had done the night before. 'Do you feel like your body is larger than life at times?' my father asked me as his looks penetrated my forehead with energy I could feel. How did he know? And what did it mean?
I felt, as insane as it may sound, that I was chosen as God's right hand. That He had used me cause the earthquake. Everytime someone spoke about the earthquake, I had this immense guilt inside me. The guilt drove me a few months later to go upnorth myself on a photographic expedition to capture the horror and misery I had caused. The people there I spoke to said that it was like the day of judgement that had been described in the Book.
It was depressing to say the least. But at the same time, there was something about the energy fields of Muzaffarabad that made it an almost magical place. No one knew quite what it was. Maybe it was just the crux of Earths own energy field. Although I had a lot of company, I kept mostly to myself there. Then one day upon returning to my tent I noticed something strange. Someone had left a bundle in my quarters. A bundle made of white sheets used for wrapping dead people, tied together with a rope with thorns around the rope. It was almost identical to the bundle I had crafted myself back home. Ignoring it, I decided to work on my laptop and as I sifted through my photographs it felt as if someone had jabbed a huge nail in the back of my right hand. I screamed in agony. Was this punishment for the hineous crime I had committed? Whatever it was, had been on a metaphysical level as there was nothing there in reality. I nevertheless applied deep heat cream on my hand and tore out a strip of white cloth from the bundle that was lying there. This bundle was the first thing that reminded me of Jesus Christ somehow. It just seemed like his wardrobe with the thorns to make his crown and everything.
Overcome with grief and sorrow I came back after five days. On my way back during the few hour long car ride in the mountains I was enjoying a joint when I saw a flash of the Christ statue in Rio, glowing, made out of light. Some people say that he had come all the way to Azad Kashmir and spent the remaining of his days there. I dont know how far its true. All I know is what I have experienced and would continue to over the next few years.
After four years I don't feel guilt. I dont feel sorrow. I don't even think about it often. I have realized that I'm not important enough to be God's right hand. Furthermore I dont think he needs people like me to 'cause' circumstances for Him. He can do as and how He pleases Himself.
What I was part of that night may just be heightened levels of syncronicty; a coincidence. All I want to know is... why so many coincidences pointing in the same direction?
posted by two.two.fifty.nine at
12:14 AM
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