Archive for the Mystical Experience Category

Salmon Rush Die

Posted in Global Travel, Mystical Experience with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 14, 2012 by javedbabar

Salmo swam around listlessly.

He had enjoyed the party. It was always good to see old friends, especially those that had been with him every inch of the way. This was the last time they would see each other; he should make the most of it.

The party didn’t feel right though.

Salmo was part confused and part angry. Here they were, having this great celebration, feasting on smaller fish, shrimp and squid, and plankton for those so inclined, racing and chasing, smooching and shaking, and having good times, before everyone going on his or her own way in the morning. It was their great separation and return.

So what was his issue? Why was he creating a vortex while everyone else was dancing in rings? Was it because he was the only one not completing the cycle of life ordained to his kind?

Salmon must return to their natal streams. They must use their powers of heart and mind, and all six senses, to seek out their source. Why didn’t he want to do it?

Someone brushed past him. He felt a slick glide and a playful flick, and knew it was Salma. “What’s up,” she said, “not enjoying the grad party?”

He said, “I’ve told you before. I don’t feel the call. I’ve lived in the open ocean for many years, and don’t want to return to a little river.”

“But don’t you want to go home?”

Salmo slowed down. He often did this when thinking. Good job he didn’t need to think when killer whales were around; his manoeuvres then were purely driven by instinct.

He said, “But home – is that here or there? I can sense the river but don’t remember it; my knowledge of it is purely physical. My body transformed there, preparing me for a life in salt water; there was a period of adjustment, yes, in brackish water, but…”

“I remember that period too,” said Salma. “Older ones taught me to regulate fluid pressure. Sometimes it became too concentrated, and I felt fat and heavy, and sometimes it was too dilute, and all I could do was float. But it was a conscious process, don’t you remember, really?”

Salmo swam to the right and Salma followed him. They had both sensed dolphins ahead. Better steer away from them sooner rather than later.

Salmo said, “My chemistry changed. My body changed. My spirit changed. I became a sea creature. I had no reason to hold on to my past little life. It felt like something to leave behind.”

“But that’s our life’s purpose – to return.”

“I know that Salma. But don’t you think it’s strange that our bodies start to deteriorate as soon as we enter fresh water again? By heading to the place we call home, we’re killing ourselves. Why become salmon rushing to die? Instead of going back, I would rather go further on, somewhere new.”

“But that’s not our place, Salmo.”

“That’s the issue, sister. What is our place? I fear that my place doesn’t exist anymore. I sense the two-leggeds have stopped the great rivers, poisoned the waters of rivers that still flow, and destroyed the wetlands. If I’m making the last great journey of my life, I want to go somewhere worth going.”

He sensed there was also a positive effect to the two-legged’s dabbling. Global warming caused icecaps to melt, creating new currents and rivers. He could swim with these waters to many new places, and if he found a place of hope, he could yet complete his life cycle.

Clarity

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Sacred Geometry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on October 13, 2012 by javedbabar

The final quality specified in the Jobs of the Future program was Clarity, without which the others – pattern recognition, common sense, creativity, imagination, people skills, and technical awareness – were useless. If you couldn’t focus on the job in hand, you wouldn’t get anywhere. It was as clear as that.

One of Shama’s many jobs in the city had been working in a jewelry shop. He mostly sold low-end stuff to poor people, but the shop’s owner also had private clients whose goods were of a higher order.

One day the boss had entered the sales floor as Shama was describing gems as “just bits of glass that look quite similar”. He told him to stop right there – not with anger, but with curtness – and to follow him into the back room. Shama wondered if he was about to get fired. He was in fact about to get educated.

Diamonds were removed from velvet bags and scattered on the table before him.

He was told about their 4 C’s.

The owner said, “Carat is a unit of mass used for gemstones, equal to 0.2 grams. The word comes from the Greek keration, meaning carob seed, which was a unit of weight used to measure gold.

Colour of a diamond is affected by chemical impurities or structural defects in the crystal lattice. A perfect diamond has no hue, but in reality no gem-sized natural diamonds are colorless. This can be a good or bad thing. If they are a little yellow this detracts from their value, but pink or blue enhances their worth. Red diamonds are the rarest and most valuable.

Cut does not refer to the shape of the diamond, which may be oval, round, or pear, but to its symmetry, proportion and polish. The cut impacts the brilliance, so a poorly cut diamond will be less luminous, and a well cut diamond will blaze with fire.

Clarity is the most important quality. It relates to the visual appearance of internal elements called inclusions, and surface defects called blemishes. Inclusions can be classified as clouds, feathers, knots, cavities, cleavage, bearding or graining. Blemishes can be polish lines, grain boundaries, naturals, scratches, nicks, pits, chips or breaks. Most flaws are tiny, but clarity grade is assigned based upon appearance under ten-times magnification.”

The owner gave him a lens to view the diamonds.

Shama witnessed hidden worlds of light that filled his mind and heart. It was no wonder that kings, pirates and princesses lusted after them. Each diamond’s interior seemed like outer space, or maybe he should call it inner space. It was a place of endless wonder. There were black holes and supernovae, shooting stars and solar flares. Universes being created, destroyed, and recreated.

He never forgot the lesson in the back room, which gave him new vision. Now there was a new problem. He couldn’t focus on shop front activity without being distracted by flecks of light.

Shama buzzed Sue and asked her to join him in his office. Her thoughts were always helpful, and he was starting to like her. He was shocked to see a new ring on her finger with a high quality 3 carat, Mazarin-cut diamond. Was it her old engagement ring, from her ex-husband? Or was it from a husband-to-be?

Shama couldn’t focus on the job in hand. His cognitive processes engaged in selective focus. His mental resources were allocated to the diamond ring. It took possession of his mind in clear and vivid form. Other simultaneously possible objects were excluded. There was a focalization, a concentration, a withdrawal from alternative thoughts.

There was also a withdrawal of Sue’s hand from view. He had made her self-conscious, and her focus right now was on someone else.

Imagination

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on October 10, 2012 by javedbabar

Shama had identified the skills required for his Jobs of the Future program, which were pattern recognition, common sense, creativity, imagination, people skills, technical awareness, and clarity. As Lucerne’s Training Director, his job was to boost these skills in the local community.

This week he decided to focus on Imagination, an area very dear to him. As a child he had been deemed “over-imaginative”. His flights of fancy caused his parents to think that he may be mentally unstable. Doctors said that he was sane, but “borderline”. Heavy drug use in his twenties had made things worse. Finding God in his thirties had helped his mind to settle, but he later realized that this was only another form of over-imagination – seeing divine purpose in every occurrence regardless of proof.

He buzzed reception. “Sue, are you free for a few minutes? Can you please come to my office? I need your help.”

Sue seemed contented in life. Maybe she had fulfilled her desires. He asked her, “What do you like about your job?”

“What do you mean? Is this an appraisal?”

“No, no, I really want to know. It’s to help with the program.”

Sue smiled and said, “I like talking to people, I like helping them, I like having a quiet working environment; it keeps me calm. I like dealing with local issues where I can make a difference and see the results, and I like…”

He interrupted. “And what would you like from your life?” He’d meant to say job rather than life, but now he’d said it.

“From my life? Well, I guess maybe another husband, a cabin by the river, a career in healing, seeing my children happy, and their children happy too. I would like to travel more, go to Peru and Tibet. Do you want more?”

“That’s good for now. How will you get those things? Do you have a plan?”

“Yes, I do. Have you been to Guru Baba’s talks in the community centre? He says that the Law of Attraction is very simple – you get what you want. You must imagine it first, and then desire it with all your heart. It always works.”

“Always?” asked Shama.

“Yes, always, eventually, though maybe not how you imagined.”

“Then what’s the point of imagining it, if you get something else?” Here was his issue again – over-imagination.

Sue said, “I am not explaining it very well. He says that you desire on a personal level but you receive things on the archetypal level. So you get what you want in essence, though it may differ in detail. But the seed is always your imagination.”

They hatched a plan together. The next day there were posters all over town saying, “Night of Desire – Free – This Saturday at the Transparent Temple.” Transparent Temple was the popular name for their huge, glassy community centre.

People talked about it all week. There were rumors it was a sex show, a swingers’ night, or a workshop about the Kama Sutra. Excited singles and nervous couples turned up on Saturday. Teens lined the glass panels, peering in.

Sue told the gathering to close their eyes and imagine their deepest desires. If they wished to share something, they should raise their hands. She would tap that person’s shoulder, who should speak aloud, telling people what he or she truly desired, in as much detail as possible. After ten minutes people lost their shyness and spoke aloud.

The man wishing to see the Pyramids of Giza heard about the woman who wanted to ride a camel. The woman wanting to make cupcakes heard about the man who wanted to open a sweetshop. The man who dreamed of building a fairytale castle heard about the builder who had registered the URL, Camelot.com

As soon as people related their dreams, they found others who shared them. They began to manifest them together.

One Megabyte

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience with tags , , , , , , , , , , on October 6, 2012 by javedbabar

Alan and Patricia were always welcoming. As soon as he neared their forest cabin, Bobby began feeling happy and relaxed. His weekly trips there were a tonic.

There were things going on at the farm that he didn’t understand, and that worried him somewhat. Tomatoes grew better when exposed to advertising jingles, mushrooms were affected by satellite TV channels, and he was encouraged to drink a “healthy natural beverage” that somehow unsettled him.

Alan’s workshop was full of technology. Bobby wasn’t sure if this was the right word though. It was state of the art technology once upon a time, but these days of smaller, better, faster may now cause it to be labelled junk. There were many metal boxes with buttons, wires, levers and cogs.

“Do you still use all these” – Bobby didn’t know what to call them – “machines?”

“Sure I do! They still work. Why shouldn’t I?”

Bobby pulled out his smartphone. It never received a signal on the farm but here it worked beautifully. “This phone has more power than everything in this workshop. I’m not trying to show off; anybody with twenty dollars a month to spare can have one. I just mean that your machines seem outdated.”

“So you think I should donate them to the museum?”

“Not necessarily,” said Bobby. “But maybe. Wouldn’t you be better off with a small, simple gadget with multiple functions? And when technology advances, you can upgrade.”

Alan looked at him with seriousness. “What is the data limit on your smartphone? Ten megabytes? A day? So three hundred megabytes a month. Well, I transfer one megabyte a month.”

Bobby was about to be impressed, but then thought, hang on! He said, “Do you mean one gigabyte? So you transfer three times more than me?”

“No I meant one megabyte. That’s plenty. I do use some compression technology, but that’s it!”

Bobby was confused and stood blinking.

Alan pushed a few buttons and lights appeared on metal boxes. “In the early days there were radio transmissions for only two hours a day. When TV came along, we had only one hour a day. Telephone calls were very expensive; you’d watch your minutes carefully. With computers there was limited bandwidth, it was precious and you preserved it. A photo took half an hour to download, and a movie took all day.

“We appreciated those things. Our family would gather around the radio. We would watch TV together. Receiving a call would be a special thing.

“Now everything is always available. It’s too much. People receive endless news, data and popular culture. It is making them sick. They flick through these things as if they are empty boxes, always looking for the next one, hoping it will be full.

“Patricia and I pick one thing a day and focus on it, whether it is a message, a photo, or scene from a film. We enjoy that thing only. It is like a meditation. And we’ve found that after one hundred years, we’ve never been bored yet. Do you want to see today’s special selection?”

Bobby nodded.

Alan showed him a picture of the Lucerne Valley one hundred years ago, before the time of roads, factories and malls. There was just land and light. Its beauty made him weep.

T-Phone

Posted in Classic Sci-Fi, Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on October 5, 2012 by javedbabar

The farm was hot and full of bugs. Maybe the ecosystem wasn’t quite balanced yet, or the ladybugs were of a lethargic species, and the mosquitoes of a dynamic one, for the latter were winning hands down. The forest was cooler, with widely spaced Arcadian Firs. Their branches captured much of the light, which meant less vegetation on the forest floor, and thus fewer bugs. Bobby dozed in the forest daily from twelve to four.

On days off he’d visit Alan and Patricia, who said they’d lived in the valley for one hundred years. Alan was a prehistoric geek, obsessed by communications. He captured local transmissions via an antenna, many miles long, strung between firs.

“You always seem so happy together,” Bobby said to Patricia as she poured him Lady Grey Tea. She’d said it was a perfectly refreshing afternoon tea, which she preferred to the floral taste of Earl Grey. “What’s your secret? Is it just your time spent together? A hundred years in the forest has surely drawn you closer. Or is it something else?”

“Alan says that we are in tune. We have the same frequency. Do you know the difference between AM and FM radio signals? You don’t? Well, AM means Amplitude Modulation. The size of the waves rises and falls, conveying the information necessary to transmit a message. FM is totally different. It stands for Frequency Modulation. The size of the waves is constant but the distance between them changes, which conveys information. Well, Alan says that he is AM and I am FM, but we’re in tune with each other. It doesn’t really make…”

“Hello again, young man!” said Alan, bursting into the room. “So good to see you. How’s your teatime? You like it? Good, good.”

Patrician poured him a cup too. There was no need for her to ask him, as she was in tune.

“Has she told you about my new invention? I can tell him, can’t I, love?” Patricia nodded. “It’s the T-Phone!” He pulled out a mobile phone as big as a brick. Bobby had last seen one of those in the 1980s. Was Alan that much behind the times?

Alan smiled and said, “I know it’s not much to look at, but wait till I show you what it can do.”

Bobby said, “Please do.”

“I’ve tried various forms of information propagation – AM, FM – I heard Patricia telling you about those – and SSB, TETRA, amateur radio, unlicensed radio, even radio control, but they have never conveyed all the information encoded. There is always loss.” He stopped for a moment. “And digital information is even worse; its binary form removes gradation.”

Alan tinkered with the brick-sized phone. “Do you know Instagram? Well, what that does for your photos, the T-Phone does for your voice. It enriches the frequencies, avoids noise, and prevents fading. It creates a richer sound.”

“Why is it called the T-Phone?” asked Bobby.

“Because the technology it uses is Telepathy. There is no physical transfer, thus there is no resistance and loss. The T-Phone uses silence as a means of communication. Everything is contained within it.”

Bobby noticed that Alan said these last words without his lips moving.

Speaking Together

Posted in Classic Sci-Fi, Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on October 4, 2012 by javedbabar

Though he was surrounded by fellow workers, Bobby often felt alone at the farm. On his days off he went to visit Alan and Patricia, who he thought of like great-grandparents.

They claimed to have moved to the Lucerne Valley a hundred years ago, and made him feel welcome. The first thing was always a “nice cup of tea”. There were no cold mugs or tea bags for Patricia. She used heated teapots with quilted tea cosies, and bone china cups that were  rich blue with gold patterns, like ones that you saw on antique shows.

Patricia had a special shelf of tea caddies from all over the world. She ran her fingers along the shelf and stopped at the caddy that “spoke” to her. She selected a tea spoon in a similar way and dropped three spoonfuls of loose tea into a teapot, the tea leaves dropping, tinkling and crackling.

“Why do you always ask me how I take my tea?” asked Bobby. “You know I take it with milk and sugar.”

“Well, what if you’ve changed your mind? I don’t want to make assumptions. That’s poor form. It is not the way of taking tea together.”

She says some strange things, thought Bobby. He said, “On the farm, we drink tea with…”

“Never drink the tea on the farm,” she said seriously. “Don’t touch it.”

“But they tell us to. They say it is better than water. It is a healthy…”

She told him again not to drink it, saying it wasn’t what he thought it was.

Alan came in from the garden and said, “Good afternoon, young man! How are you this fine day? Well, I hope. Good, good.”

They took tea together, each adding some milk and one sugar. Alan said, “We’ve monitored the communications in this valley for a hundred years now.”

Bobby had found Alan’s antenna, a wire running through the forest, strung between Arcadian Firs. “At first I manually recorded the few messages sent daily, later by phonograph, then tape deck, digital recorder, and now computer. Everything is stored on hard drives and processed by speech-to-text software, and analysed semiotically.”

So that’s how they spend their time, thought Bobby. They don’t sit around drinking tea all day. They analyse communications. Maybe Alan is a shadowy consultant, working secretly for The Authority.

“But the voice always comes first.” He stopped and looked at Bobby directly. “Am I boring you, or would you like to hear more? You would? Good, good. Now listen to this.” He played a clip of a woman speaking about potato prices. “And listen to this.” It was a man talking about property prices. “Do you note their different frequencies? No? It takes a while to master, and later you can even hear things in what most people call silence.”

He led Bobby to his workshop, filled with electronic equipment. There was a monitor showing green waves reflecting, refracting and diffracting. “See what’s happening? They’re all out of synch. That’s why people never really understand each other. That’s the meaning of the Tower of Babel story.” He pointed to the house. “Patricia and I have spent one hundred years together. We are tuned to the same frequency. We fully understand each other. It is like Eden before the Fall.”

Crazy Mixed Up Fun

Posted in Classic Sci-Fi, Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Sacred Geometry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on September 28, 2012 by javedbabar

Shama was enjoying his new job as Lucerne’s Building Control Officer. He was unqualified for the role but they were in desperate need, and his casual labour experience had somehow made him top contender.

He pulled a file from the stack that arose from his desk towards the heavens. It was marked “GIANT SCULPTURE” and stamped “STAGE ONE APPROVED”.

Details however were scanty. There was an undated MOA, Memorandum of Understanding, between Lucerne Village and Guru Baba’s office saying that a “giant sculpture” could be built “in the centre of the valley” whose “precise form and dimensions are yet to be determined.” The document was yellowed, with strong key impressions and whiteouts, with no diagrams or illustrative references. It seemed manually typewritten many years back.

How could a giant structure be approved without any details at all? For all they knew it could be a giant swastika, or a huge phallus. Someone was just pushing problems down the line. The buck must stop somewhere, and as BCO it was most likely with him.

No wonder the previous guy had disappeared. It seemed he was mixed up in shady business, letting people build whatever they wanted, probably in exchange for “donations” from Guru Baba’s people or construction companies. But would Guru Baba, one of the world’s leading holy men, really be involved in a dodgy scheme? It was probably the builders.

Shama had seen a large scaffold near the middle of the valley, and trucks entering the worksite, and also a crane. Good for them, he’d thought back then, creating high-paying local jobs. It must be there. They may have half-built it already; he had better take a look.

The security guard wouldn’t let him on site. He called the project manager, who roared up ten minutes later. He was an Indian fellow wearing an orange hard hat. “Hello, I am Karamchand. I hear you are the new BCO. Are you new in town? Welcome to the valley!”

Shama was surprised by his friendliness; he was not surly or secretive at all. “I am interested in the sculpture construction,” he said. “How is Stage One progressing?”

“It is taking longer than we expected.” Karamchand winked at Shama. “But who is counting, hey?”

So there is some funny business, thought Shama. Stretching out the construction schedule, drawing out funds. Maybe it’s money laundering.

Shama felt that he should leave, but his curiosity got the better of him. He said, “What is it going to be? My documents seem to be incomplete.”

The complex scaffold gave no clue to the hidden structure’s purpose. What he discerned was a huge cube and wheel. He had heard the expression “squaring the circle”. Was it something to do with that?

“Oh yes, of course. You are new. I have only been working on the project for ten years myself, but I will tell you what I know.” Shama looked around. The entire construction crew was Indian.

“Guru Baba has designed the structure based upon Vedic mathematics, with associated mantras and yantras built into the forms. It is a fusion of East and West, and inspired by the word fun, which means art in Hindi. It is a Rubik’s Cube with four hundred and thirty two faces, each one of which rotates in turn – one every thousand years. Its structural dynamics and electromagnetics ensure that there will be zero wear and tear.

“All permutations are accounted for. In four hundred and thirty two thousand years, it will complete one cycle, and mark the end of Kali Yuga – the current Dark Age. Of course we are part way through this Age already, so we will start the cycle five thousand years in. I will detail all this for you in the Stage Two MOA.”

Crazy Heart

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Sacred Geometry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 22, 2012 by javedbabar

Dimpy received a phone call. She answered immediately, saying, “Hello, Lucerne Village Hall, Wedding Registration Dept.”

A man’s unsteady voice said, “Do both partners have to come in?” He was nervous, she could tell.

“Yes, they do.” She listened intently, trying to gauge his voice. Was he nervous because he had learnt what to say and now that he had started the process, his heart was beating fast, and his tongue, erratic? “Is that a problem for you?”

“No, no, no, there isn’t. We’ll both be there. I promise.”

She said, “Excuse me, who am I…?” but there was no one there. He must have rung off. Her job was to confirm that people were engaging in legitimate unions rather than shams. Maybe she was being too scary with callers.

Two days later there was a commotion downstairs. She heard doors banging and someone shouting. It sounded as if a person tripped and fell. Was it those kids causing trouble again? Where was security? She’d better go and check.

A small man stood in the hallway, stiffly, looking lost. His eyes were dead and unmoving. Was he blind? He didn’t have dark glasses or a white stick though.

A large woman with a yellow and blue patterned dress, and a mess of dyed black hair, arose from the ground. It was she that had fallen.

It was clear that the man couldn’t see her; he must be blind… yet there was such a strange impression created by his sightless eyes that Dimpy dare not speak.

It was the look of love, and she stood as its silent witness.

There was also something incredible – supernatural – in the woman’s smile. Despite being sighted, she wasn’t smiling at him; she didn’t seem to see him either; instead her eyes rolled around continuously and her head followed their motion.

“Hello!” the man called out. “Is somebody there? I heard you coming out of your office.”

“Yes, I’m the Registrar of Weddings, Dimpy.”

“Ah, good to meet you at last. We spoke earlier this week. We have a two p.m. appointment with you, but I’m afraid we are one hour early.”

“Oh, yes, please come up. Can you… come up? Do you need help?”

“No thank you, I can make it up. I am very independent; I have been so for many years now. The only real problems have been caused by my beloved Samantha who insists on helping me around. The first time that she forced me to cross the road with her almost caused my death!”

Samantha, smoothing her hair, her eyes still rolling, said, “Yes I have no sense of co-ordination. I am always unbalanced and I am scared of going out. I used to get so angry about it until I saw this amazing man one day” – she looked at her fiancé – “Blind, but so accepting. He was content with his life. My heart beat all around my body, even more than usual, and my movements were uncontrollable. I wanted to help him across the road but I almost helped him somewhere else.” They both began laughing.

“Come on then, love,” he said, offering her his hand. “Let’s go up.”

“It won’t be necessary,” said Dimpy. “I’ve seen all I need to see. You wait here. I will do all the paperwork for you.”

A small man and a large woman; she, afraid of light, and he, not afraid of dark; standing still and always moving; yin and yang; their union was perfect.

Holy Things

Posted in Alternative Energy, Classic Sci-Fi, Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience with tags , , , , , , , , , , on September 14, 2012 by javedbabar

AMP co. had been testing their prototype 3D printer for two weeks, and fabricated another 3D printer, a six inch worm, a baby girl, and a 4D pink crab, but they weren’t sure whether the latter’s strange movements were due to continual flux between states of being, or its natural erratic motion; was it alternating between living and dying, or just picking its way about? The baby girl – who was now named Abby – was unconcerned by their chrono-spatial conundrum. She waved her arms about and giggled.

Sami found himself staring at the cogs and levers of the 3D printer. This was usually something that Alfred did when deep in thought.

After a while Sami said, “If we use the fourth dimension, we can make ancient things. We could make creatures that we only see as fossils now – prehistoric fish and dinosaurs. We could also recreate evidence of historical events, or of unsolved crimes.” He stared at the machine some more, and added, “We could make historical artifacts, like the swords and shields of great warriors, or kings’ crowns.”

Sami worked as an assistant to retired holy man, Guru Baba, of whom he was very fond. He turned to Alfred with a big smile. “We could even make holy things.”

“Like what? You mean old Bibles and golden Buddhas?”

“I mean real holy things. Objects that belonged to Masters – like Moses’ Tablets of Law, Jesus’s cross, and Buddha’s bowl.”

“We’d have to know exactly what they looked like; I doubt there are accurate depictions.” Alfred’s face was contorted. He wanted to be positive, but couldn’t.

Sami said that he’d be back in a few minutes. He went to the village’s community centre – known as the Transparent Temple – and took a book from the library. Then he returned to AMP co.

“Guru Baba showed me this book,” said Sami. “The illustrations are based upon exhaustive research.” He flicked through the themed sections. “Ok… Judaism… look, there’s the Tablets. We’ll need powdered rock… Christianity… here’s the cross; that would be too big to produce though, we’d have to fabricate it in sections… okay, here’s the grail, just some metal powder… Buddhism, here’s Buddha’s begging bowl, we need sawdust.” He looked up from the book. “Such simple objects. How did religion get so complicated?”

Alfred said, “Let me take a look.” He flicked through some other sections. “Look… we can make Siva’s drum… and Osiris’s crook… and Thor’s hammer. If these pictures are accurate, we’re really on to something.”

Alfred’s interest lay in mythology rather than religion. He felt that the basic stories myths encompassed – those of creation, fertility and heroes – were the basis of all religions.

He looked up some creation myths. “Look Sami, look at this. This is the first water… This is the first clay… and this is the point of Creation from which all things emerged.”

They both were silent, thinking how to create the dot.

Then Alfred smiled and said, “Maybe we’ve also overcomplicated matters. Shall I get my old dot-matrix printer?”

New Moon

Posted in Classic Sci-Fi, Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience with tags , , , , , , , , , , on September 1, 2012 by javedbabar

It was almost dawn and the moon was setting. Sami was tired from his long night “working” with Guru Baba, which involved watching, discussing and walking in boggy fields beneath the full moon.

The last surprise was meeting his shadow, which equated to the dark side of the orb fast disappearing. Whether visible or invisible, it was always there, beyond the dusty cratered surface. Sami’s soul too was thus composed, of light and dark.

Something shifted at the precise spot where the moon was setting. A dark spot seemed to shiver.

Sami was intrigued by this occurrence, and also frightened. The strange events of the night had been thrilling but unsettling. Nothing was what it seemed.

Sami looked at Guru Baba for reassurance. His holy bossman gave him a quirky look – his eyebrows moving in opposite directions, and his bottom lip curling as if sad. He said, “There’s someone else you should also meet. I meant to call him, but it seems that he has come of his own accord.”

Sami now realised that the shivering spot was a man walking towards them. Moonlight bent around, giving him a ghostly glow; he seemed a lunar apparition; a moon mirage. There was something familiar about his gait. Sami had seen him before. His white goatee was a further clue…

It was the man who had founded Lucerne’s Botanical Gardens, a controversial figure known only as The Gardener. He had without doubt created a fine facility for Lucerne’s citizens; the Botanical Gardens were five acres of wonder. There was a main path and there were countless sub-paths, leading to different habitats; the Amazon Rainforest was filled with mysterious fertility; the Egyptian Oasis was a cool, calm haven; the Babylonian Hanging Gardens were so vibrant that it felt like you were in an ancient cartoon book; other mysterious areas were filled with strange flora and fauna including, it was said, walking trees and flying flowers, and unicorns and golden monkeys.

The Gardener approached them. He greeted them warmly and then stood beside Guru Baba. They admired the full moon together.

“How are the gardens?” asked Guru Baba.

“You should come and see for yourself,” said the Gardener. “Where are you these days? I haven’t seen you for weeks.”

“I have visited a few times,” said Guru Baba. “But you’re always so busy with your students. How are they doing?” He turned to Sami and said, “Have you visited the Botanical Gardens recently? You haven’t? What a shame!”

Sami knew that he was ribbing him. Working as Guru Baba’s assistant rarely left a moment spare. Tonight was a perfect example; he was “working all night.”

The Gardener said, “The Extreme Gardening course is progressing well. It is a ten year course, and if all goes to plan we’ll soon be ready for mankind’s next adventure.”

“What do you mean?” asked Sami.

“We are developing new methods for purifying air, growing crops, encouraging insects and plants to develop healthy ecosystems, building a sustainable atmosphere, and seeding hydrographic systems. Within ten years the technology will be ready, and ten years after that, well, humans will be living on other planetary bodies.”

“Will we still be around then?” asked Guru Baba.

“I don’t think that we will, my old friend.”

Guru Baba turned to his assistant and said, “It will be down to you, Sami. Are you ready to be the Man in the Moon?”