I Think...It Happens

It was raining. It had to be. Making it rain made my day. So what if it was always dark in my solitary confinement cell.

But I was happy. I now knew I could will and it would. It had taken some effort and it had also taken some time but it had returned a huge payback by happening exactly as I could never have imagined it to be. The Lord taketh away but then when he gives it again, he gives it in abundance. In this case, I was probably as close as anyone could never be to being a god. I was the new GOD. I could make it happen.

To explain the rain, don't look for the clouds but try to read my thoughts. For the last hour or so, I was engulfed with a single-minded pursuit of communicating with god to make it rain. That kind of communication operates on frequencies far beyond our normal limits of hearing. Such frequencies that are much higher than we could ever hear, also travel much farther than we could ever hope to. Most people could scarcely hope of generating a sound that ventures into this frequency range. But then, I was most, unlike most people. That would also explain why I was also generally disliked by most but that's for another day and time. Travelling far enough means being heard in heaven and places beyond. Being heard is just that much of a step away from making it happen!...and it was happening already.

I got it to rain. It started a little while after I activated all my brain cells and connected with god. But then time is also always measured from a starting point. On another scale, it actually took about a year or so of solitary confinement before I could activate what I willed. 

So about a year ago, in my dark cell, it started with the realisation that I could get small incremental behavioural changes in inanimate objects just by thinking it…or more exactly by thinking it so through that my thoughts would crystallise into a phenomenon that even my eyes found hard to get used to. So if I found it difficult to see the front wall in my dark cell, I could make the wall glow. Or if I wished it to, I could make the floor suddenly warm up on a very cold night. Yes, my brain waves were of higher order but my needs were very basic indeed!. All that aside, what matters is that I could think, communicate and crystallise my thoughts into activating materials and events. That done, it would only be a matter of time to scale it up, from mere floors and walls inside, to the earth and skies above and outside my solitary confinement cell.

A good time to take a pause from riding brain waves and explaining the solitary confinement bit. So I was not the kind of model citizen that I was expected to be. I had this bad habit of voicing my thoughts even before I had heard and understood them. Frequency and communication at play again but this is about those times when it would get me into trouble. The rainy day bits are about the time, I hope when it gets me out of trouble. 

And before I got imprisoned and into solitary confinement, I always thought loudly, audibly and publicly and did it several times over. So I was a political prisoner in a country which was a prisoner to its own kind of politics. For as much as I can remember, the country doesn't have a name anymore. Just one of the many collateral effects of having stayed too alone for too long. So where ever i was and in whichever country that was, I wasn't welcome. I had spoken, up and out and against conventional wisdom and generally acceptable thoughts and I had already done it too many times before. It wasn't so much a dare as much as a fact that I was losing my thoughts to the outside world and still learning to harness them in. Then suddenly one day I had announced that I could talk to god.

Everyone, including me, had heard that for the first time. Everyone, except me, was also offended. Religion was usually fodder for divisive politics in my country but my contact with God seems to have united everyone against me. United in anger at my blasphemy. The same people, who would have happily fought with each other as their business as usual, united to direct their collective hate against me. Everyone seemed so sure that while they had different gods, i had been speaking about and had spoken to, their very own god. So they all hated me. They say love bonds but they don't know how hate does a much better job at it. Ask the mob.

And then the authorities stepped in. For my own good, I was picked up and confined to prison. The good-bit is obviously their version in defence of their actions. The prison started out as a very social space and with time, it lead me to my dark solitary space. A description of my life would have followed a very similar theme of social to dark and lonely bu

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t for the fact that the time scale would be more stretched. Soon the popularity for my blood outside in the streets found its own takers inside the prison. Everyone except the walls and the iron bars started to hate me. It doesn't take a lot for trouble to trouble you in such times and places. I seemed to get into a fight with almost every second person there. The fact that I was the new brainwave nerd who wasn't built to fight it out didn't really help me or my cause....and that led to my current stint in solitary confinement. Details not required. Who cares for the names I fought with and for the cause I don't know. Then again, while no one really cares who was right, everyone knew that I was in the wrong. Wronged again but after being judged wrong too many times, I was put right into solitary confinement. There were no such niceties as an investigation or a trial. Everyone knew I was guilty even before they pronounced me as guilty and my sentence had begun. Prejudices rule in a god-fearing world and I had just become just another statistic to such prejudices. Not that I was told about the duration of my stay in the dark cell. Not that it really mattered anymore. Who cares anyway, since solitary confinement was always presumed to be a one-way street. You can enter but not leave. You move into your burial space never to rise again.

And so I was in darkness with darkness and lot of fellow darkness for company. That is when my thoughts could not be heard by anyone other than me. That is when my thoughts started ignoring me as the centre of the conversation and started talking to each other. Such almost iterative and circular thoughts meant that the frequency of my thoughts seemed to climb-up with time much like music building up to a crescendo. Soon I could feel a numbing sensation inside while my thoughts continued their thinking. As explained earlier, such high frequencies travel further than we could imagine and then they were probably heard knocking on the door of heaven. If it so happened that my mind was still stuck up on seeing the limits of my cell, the wall seemed to light up to help me see. Or as I said earlier, the floors heard my call and warmed up in response. Thought in action was beginning to get reactions. Hard to believe but then with I, me and myself for company, there were not many people I had to convince anyway. I was a believer and probably god at the same time.

So I graduated to bigger better stuff. I moved on to get a tile to crack up and a broken part to repair itself. And then banging on the door while I was still a few feet away from the door. All the power of thought, or more accurately, me getting god’s help to make my thoughts make, break and knock at things. The bigger the move, the better and the deeper the thought required to remote control it. With extended duration thinking, I could move on to effects that were beyond my current living quarters. Think of it as a remote control for television except that the world now sits in that television. The world was now my stage and I was about to launch my first act.

So I thought when all I could do was think anyway that maybe I should get it to rain. It seemed like I was in a very dry geography. The guard, who spent his daylight hours to ensure that I lived within my darkness, had been talking to someone else about the fact that it hadn't rained yet in this place wherever that was. Everyone was also predicting that this, as usual, was one of those days when it would never rain...and it had been a never for a long period of time. So naturally, the rain was on my mind when I started speaking to god earlier today. And then an hour later, the rain was thrumming to my mind beats, over my head, in a country where it had hardly ever rained before.

To come back to the start, I now want them to come back and seek my forgiveness. Anyone who talks to god or anyone who god listens to, shouldn't be where I was. They should make me the next king, god for now and here. And all I had to do to make it happen was to think and think hard. But this was a pilot project to pilot nature to be at my bidding. I wasn't sure if it would happen or how they would react. So I talked to god and then waited and kept listening.

The rain is relentless. I hear it thrumming on the metal roof and running down the broken pipe into the mud, and I moisten my cracked lips with my tongue. I wonder if they’ll bring me food and water. I wonder if they’re coming at all…

I am waiting. There is a god, here and now, and it's in my mind. And I am waiting for food, water and people to be served on a platter. The next time it won't just rain. After the rains, comes the fire. I think. It happens.