In the language of occult, there are seven regions of mind. Our is the physical region.
They tell us that we live on the physical plane, but in our sleep we may go to the next region, a mental region which is often called the astral plane.
But is it always true that our sojourn in the astral plane can only occur during deep sleep, after death or before our birth? I conjecture that it can happen during our daytime activities and also during our daytime dreaming.
In the moonlight I could see a pool reflecting the silvery tonalities of the night. There was a half moon hung in a silent sky like a crescent lantern. It had been a scorching day, an oppressive heat which was causing a burning sensation in my eyes and brain as I lay there. I crawled towards the pool to escape from these suffocating airs. My head was spinning and there was a constant thud of blood rushing into my temples. My tongue was parched and stuck to roof of mouth. The burning sensation in my stomach grew as if someone has splashed a bucket-full of boiling water onto my entrails.
I looked into the pool and it seemed a shallow structure. I crawled towards it and dipped my face into the water, and it felt pleasant. I put my entire head and shoulders into it, and under its impact the whole body of water broke into myriads of pieces of shining glass, each piece reflecting its own universe of trembling rays. I dragged my body further and slid into the water completely. I felt like a lonely animal quenching its thirst in a desert waterhole.
I could see the bottom of the pool with long slender grasses growing out of it up to the surface. The plants were waving and beckoning me to come closer. I swam towards them. There were hundreds of tiny flowers sprouting from them in an exquisite arrangement. I touched one flower with my finger tip; the flower began to grew in size, and I could not comprehend the reason for this phenomenon.
On the other side of pool there was another big clump of plants growing and made into a sort of green carpet. I wanted to step on it to feel some sensation of solidity but found it almost soft and springy. A big red flower opened its cup, and a pleasant perfume issued forth. It exuded an intoxicating, scented air overpowering the senses, transporting me into unknown lands.
Suddenly I was being pulled down by a strong force. I resisted the force but became exhausted after some struggle. I decided to let go. The force accelerated and I was going down rapidly expecting to hit the bottom at any time thus smashing my body against the solid floor. Even under this feeling of panic, I managed to keep my calm just enough to savour the last moments of my being. I waited for my consciousness to be snuffed out soon.
I never hit the bottom though, and it was like being driven down into a liquid abyss. Sea creatures of various sizes and colours were passing me by. Big fishes of enormous sizes were inking the blue waters with their liquid trails. Giant tortoise floated by with their small flippers of turquoise shades, surrounded by other small creatures of silvery tonalities. It was such an enchanting display that I soon forgot about my strange situation with all its pain and agonies, of time past and time present.
It was like looking into the kaleidoscope of my childhood memories. All those broken pieces of coloured glass and beads came together to form exquisite patterns, forever changing and at every slight touch a new pattern. No arrangement was alike but each was different, even dazzling and terrifying. Such was my pitiable state at that moment.
Then I entered a place of total silence. It was a big hall with faded emerald green columns in some coral reef structure. Large shoots of seaweed and algae were shooting from these. These were tall structures of about 50 feet high and though fast crumbling, still had a certain grandeur about them. Turbulent waters were gushing through but surprisingly without any sounds. It reminded me of the metaphysical emptiness speculations of the philosophers or related to the structures of our dreams as linked to some seeds of loneliness.
It seemed that time has stopped and with it structures of my existence. This tragic beauty was overwhelming, best to be accepted without reason, without any human analysis. It just stood there ending all my speculations. There were many chambers and I moved from one to other and opening up new panoramas of sensations and wonder.
Then came a wailing sound, something poignant out of the depths. I moved towards it. I surmised that the sound was coming from an alcove in a chamber where a lady was sitting singing some plaintive song. I moved closer and looked at her face; it was a pallid face with a strange beauty behind it, and her slender body and long hair framed those haunting eyes into an arrangement of some great art.
She looked at me, and her hypnotic glance ventured straight into my soul. There was more to her than her body and pallid face. Perhaps human beings are more than their outward looks, some sort of symbols which we have to learn to decipher. It is a stressful task; most people never bother to find out these realities hidden behind the symbols. Only some sensitive beings have that privilege or taste for such ventures. We tend to be pragmatic detached observers of only the mundane realities of our daily chores.
There was something familiar about that face and I tried to open my recollections in hazy archives of my brain, but it was all in vain. Honestly I could not put my finger on exact location of that strangeness except some misty caverns of my memories. Was she a femme fatale or an image of my soul? Her eyes reflected longing for liberty and for a melancholy at the same time.
I have come across such situations before, perhaps in some cheap novels or in some sentimental films, but this situation was not of the same order. There was no hint of hedonism here, but on the other hand there was a suggestion of great sadness for exploring depths of your being. Against my wishes I was getting deeply involved. Could I fall in love with that beautiful creature?
It was not beyond possibility. Perhaps I could love her, or her doom-laden soul and thus walk into that abyss of tenderness from which no escape was possible. I could wander in that labyrinth for ever tasting a drought of poetry and tragedy.
Her slender body moved forward like the flow of a river and I could hear some sort of music within ears of my mind. It might have been my imagination only but it was a symphony of many sounds and I could imagine all the subtleties of some attractive musical composition.
She moved to the end of a chamber and through to another door leading into a corridor and then to where, I did not know.
She lifted her hand either to beckon me to follow her or a sort of adieu. I was in a dilemma, and the spell was broken. My rational being exerted itself. To follow her into that unknown spell, perhaps to loose my liberty for ever under that goad of that enchanted phantom.
My passions started crumbling as if being dissolved in the waters. Heat of heart and the hankerings of my soul were gone. I accepted my situation with some regret though, as I did not want to struggle any more. I buoyed my body upwards.
The same force returned and it started pushing me upward, in opposite direction to its previous manoeuvres. Its movement increased and I began to rush upwards with great speed. Presently I was catapulted out of the pool with such a force that I fell outside the pool on the solid ground. I lost my consciousness temporarily.
I was lying on the shore, and waves of Mediterranean were glittering in the sunshine. I forced myself to stand up. I was tired and hungry. I decided to walk to my villa where I intended to prepare a meal to quench my growing hunger and then go to sleep, perhaps for days together. I was so exhausted.
Copyright © 2003 by Durlabh Singh
