Of love I speak, that I experienced and let bloom,
A delicate flower in a darkened room.
Of love that was ignored, left in the cold,
A story untold, a hand left to hold.

Of love that was embraced, with a fervent grace,
That filled the heart and lit the face.
And of love that brought a new life near,
A joy so profound, a crystal-clear tear.

But of hatred, too, I must confide,
That hid within, a shadowed guide.
A jealousy masked by a friendly smile,
A quiet rage that grew all the while.

Of hate that burned in silent screams,
In shattered hopes and broken dreams.
Of hate that came in whispered lies,
A darkness where the light soon dies.

The skies are usually in tints of grey, but not in a way to reflect sadness, for it’s the time of Lughnasadh. It’s when the Cancerian rains begin to pour and, with the season of Leo, one can feel the moisture in the air. There’s a wilderness around, with overgrown grass and trees burdened by the weight of their lush leaves.

I remember a time when I was obsessed with a plant called morning glory  in year 2020. They say it’s a very risky plant to grow, as it takes over everything and is nearly impossible to eradicate. That’s exactly what I wanted, I wanted the morning glory to take over my garden, It was in my mind’s eye to see my garden covered with flowers in lilac and pink shades every morning. I had ordered some seeds and scattered them randomly in the garden, but they didn’t germinate. Later, on a new moon night, I planted some seeds in a small pot. New moon night is the time to set new intentions, to begin a new work, to set foundation. Only a few sprouted, and when I put them in the garden, they barely grew until the Cancerian rains began. Then, within a month, the morning glory took over the entire garden, and every morning the purple and pink flowers bloomed.

Interestingly, the morning glory didn’t kill any other plants. It found its way and everything grew in abundance. Nature is the greatest consciousness, it has its own mind that can never be fully understood by the human mind as it transforms itself at every moment. The moment the human race understands its pattern, the next moment it transforms. The ancient witches closely observed the patterns of nature. During the initial phases of Wiccan learning, One learns to observe the patterns of nature, the transforming light, the moves of the breeze and read the messages.

I have recently moved to the west coast of Canada, British Columbia. After Almost four years, I witnessed the serene beauty of the mountains. The place where I live is very close to the ocean, one can hear the seagulls and experience the fresh breeze of the ocean. I have felt that the spirits are stronger here, Their presence is more perennial. Since my arrival here, I have experienced a remarkable intensification of my psychic abilities. I frequently find myself drifting into a trance state, immersed in the profound bliss of existence. However, this serene immersion is briefly interrupted whenever I have to step into the realm of the corporate world.

Let me say this, as I do not hesitate, Corporate is a slow poison to Humanity. It’s a cancer that slowly kills one’s soul. It makes one less human as it dehumanizes the being. One slowly forgets one’s true self. It’s a sad reality, that to survive in this world, especially here in these hijacked countries of Indigenous and Shamans, one has to be in the corporate, an active participant of the matrix. I am convinced that I am not a being of corporate, It’s been a great struggle for me to be among them. I have found my ways of being in corporate yet remain in the higher realms. I usually go for easy jobs where I have to work minimal and interact minimum, but I always make sure that I cleanse myself of the toxicity of corporate. I ensure that I work out, stretch a little and perform the Wiccan ritual of rejuvenation. I often talk about four elements of a Wiccan: Virti, vivek, vinay, vigyana. I might have explained about these elements in other posts. Virti is Viraag , the detachment. It’s a phenomenon that one experiences. It doesn’t happen when you leave the world you were living in but, it happens when the world leaves that lives within you. It’s this element that helps one to be in the higher realms yet remain in the worldly loops. It reminds me of Vadim Zealand’s concept of pendulums. A pendulum metaphor for the energy of collective consciousness, that one gets attached to and remains hanging and be part of those eternal oscillations. Corporate is one such pendulum.

When I came here to the West Coast, I found myself trapped at a corporate place for a month, where I had to put a lot of effort into coming out. The place drained my energy, not because of the structure of the facility, nor the energy around it, but because of one being. I came across an idiotic personality. Yes, an Idiot. I laugh as I write this. I believe that when a person with a high ego, accustomed to their throne in the corporate world, encounters a Wiccan, they may feel an unexpected sense of threat. The Wiccan’s serene confidence and mystical presence can challenge the egotist’s sense of superiority, unsettling their carefully maintained sense of control and dominance. He watched all my moves, questioned me after every minute, and spoke in an extremely rude tone, his words were unwise. I am a creature of darkness, who is least affected by the circus that goes on around, I pay little or no attention to the insignificant drama. But, often, People seem to get a little disturbed because of my non-participation, hence they tend to provoke.

He was one step up in the hierarchy of corporate. Even though I have no interest in my qualifications, I am more qualified than him. He would often call me in his office, which he considered his Palace of Justice and expressed his frustration and how I was a failure according to him. He had heard great things about me from many, but I did not satisfy his expectations. He warned me that he would fire me. I often wonder why Wicca’s power is not for everyone. Because not everyone can use it wisely, it comes only to those who have learned to in content, those who have experienced the bliss in the higher dimension, and those who have realized that luxury is not a necessity but an adornment. The clowns of corporate can never tap into Wiccan Power, they consider themselves Godly figures once they sit on the throne of corporate. As I sat in front of him, I witnessed the shadows behind him taking different forms.

Such an idiot, I simply sat and listened to him, For answering him was way too low for my class. Those who lick their feet are admired by them. Some were admired because of their special skills in slavery. Also, where I worked, it’s a big name, a government-owned system, perhaps one day I will openly expose it, but I am at peace now. The spirits heard the prayers, and I came out of the place unaffected. It wasted my time, I could toast a piece of bread with the heat he was trying to put on me.  And what about him? I do not want to sound sinister, but I had seen the shadows following him often, he had started taking sick leaves after that conversation in his little palace, his office. I found my way out, it baffled him. They wanted me to be there and not leave, but like a slave, feared and feeding their ego.

Am I a failure, perhaps in corporate? Does it matter to me? Not. I am a being of higher realms. Their little thoughts and games do not affect me. I am loved by the spirits of higher dimensions. I am admired by the entities who have been my spiritual teachers guiding me all the time. I am loved by those who made me who I am.

Reminds me of Lines from Manas

Jaaki kripa lavles te matimand tulsidaas hu |

Paayo param vishraam ram saman prabhu nahi kahun ||

Whose, very little grace has transformed me and made me who I am, There is none like that supreme power for me and I have experienced eternal peace.

I am at peace where I am, I am content.

I am exploring the dance within me these days. Listening and experiencing the Dhamaar taal , the 14-beats cycle. It’s an ancient taal which is played in Dhrupad. I was unaware of Dhrupad style until one day, I got a chance to witness it Live. I was mesmerized. I could never imagine something like this, very ancient, very divine and transcendental could exist on this planet. I felt as if they (Drupad singers) had tapped into a dimension in space, very otherworldly. The physicists have proved scientifically that the frequency of classical music is the same as the frequency of the dark matter in outer space, I do not have details, But you can read it online. Also, as I usually stay alone here, I get time to read and write. Cook and eat good food while listening to music. What’s more one needs to be one with the eternal flow, to experience the bliss of higher realms as I often speak about in my articles.

The story continues..

Back in 2014, When I met Hemant, I felt as if he could be a good fit for the Bewitched cauldron in future. He had the spark to learn, zeal to explore Wicca, and he had excitement to experience the magick. I have had a vision, a vision to create of space to experience magic’k’. The circle of wise seekers who could summon magical beings and create a dimension of an extraordinary life; A coven, to enjoy otherworldly experiences, to travel hills and mountains. I had not formed the coven until September 2015. It took me one year to decide on initiating them into Wicca. Them..? My search began in 2014, I knew I would find some seekers who could tap into the magical dimensions. I knew, there were some who would love to know the “witch’’ in me and themselves. I would often see myself teaching mystical arts in my dreams in before coming to Jalandhar. Wiccan Power comes when one is completely immersed in the material world and seeking answers, seeking liberation. After I met Hemanth, I was still looking for the seekers to form a coven. I wanted the feminine energies to be the part of coven.

In Manas, it is written,

Jaane binu na hoyi parteeti |

Binu parteeeti hoyi nahi preeti ||

Without knowing, one cannot trust and without trust, one cannot love.

A coven is an eternal ritual of love. It’s love that transforms those who are involved in the ritual.

After the beautiful days of orientation, the regular classes had started. It would pour continuously every day, as they were the early days of Lughnasadh and the ancient Celtic festival of light. I would sit in the class, hear the professors speak, understand a little, as much as I needed and then roam around in search of a nice place to eat and drink.

It was one fine day when I sensed a very strong aura, a magical personality sitting very next to me). I noticed a girl sitting next to me. She had long, lustrous, wavy hair that cascaded down her back, contrasting with her short stature. Her black eyes, partially hidden behind a pair of spectacles, were intensely focused on the notes she was diligently taking. Dressed in slightly clumsy clothes, she seemed oblivious to her surroundings, wholly immersed in her task. A heavy bag rested by her side, suggesting she was prepared for anything the day might throw at her. There was a certain charm in her quiet concentration, a determination that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. She was an avid reader and very intelligent. She was probably the most intelligent girl in the class, always engrossed in her studies, while I, on the other hand, had the least interest in academics. Despite our differences, there was something about me that caught her attention, and I often noticed her observing me closely. Over time, we developed a bond, spending hours talking about life, sharing stories, and discussing books. I still chuckle when I think about the time she fainted at the sight of blood and collapsed right into my arms. It was moments like these that made our friendship so unique and memorable.

The most surprising moment came when, one day, she turned to me and asked, “Puneet, are you a boksi?” I was puzzled and asked, “What’s a boksi?” She explained, “A witch in Nepalese.” She said she could sense it—smell it, even see it in my eyes. I was amazed. Only those who possess magic within themselves can recognize others with special abilities. In that moment, it felt like we had known each other for many lifetimes. There was a special connection between us, a bond that transcended the limits of this world. I wanted to understand her more, and she wanted to understand me. We would spend entire days together at the university, and even after coming home, we would continue our conversations over long Skype calls, never quite getting enough of each other’s company.

It felt as if she had tapped into my inner magic, unveiling a part of me I had kept hidden. She admired my way of living, always listening intently while I spoke. She was a keen observer, her eyes always searching, as if trying to piece together a puzzle. Had I known her in a previous life? It felt possible; the mysteries between us were bound to unfold soon enough. Her questions would spark deep, beautiful conversations that seemed to last forever.

In the beginning, I was hesitant to open up. I had always kept my distance from people, wary of getting too close. But, as I mentioned before, once we truly know someone, trust begins to build. I felt she understood my essence and was eager to dive deeper into the secrets of Wicca. I shared with her endless stories of my paranormal experiences, my visions, and my dream of writing a book. She was fascinated by my writing style, often calling me a “romantic writer.” I would laugh at this, pointing out that I had never written a love story. But later, she realized that when one is immersed in existential love, they naturally become a romantic being.

She often spoke of the beauty of Nepal—of Pashupatinath and the gentle breeze that seemed to carry whispers of spirituality. Her vivid descriptions made me yearn to experience it for myself. I had never been to Nepal, but her words planted a deep desire in me to visit someday. When Mystique came to India for her studies, she had a different perspective on spirituality. She would often remark that spirituality in Nepal had become quite Westernized. She loved talking about the changing seasons, the play of light, and the nature surrounding her home. I realized this wasn’t typical; only those who are highly sensitive to energies can describe existence with such beauty and depth.

It was the year I truly felt the magic—”magick”—of the Manas. Every day, after returning from university, I would listen to a chaupai from the Ram Charit Manas. This was a personal ritual, something I had never shared with anyone. Before going to sleep, I would write the same chaupai in my journal, followed by my own reflections. Sometimes, I wondered if those thoughts were truly mine or messages from the universe. This ritual filled me with a renewed energy each day, relaxing my senses and giving me a liberating vision of how to live and experience this journey.

Years later, I realized that this ritual was just the beginning of a beautiful cause. I had learned a few ragas of Hindustani classical music when I was in school, but while immersing myself in the Manas, I discovered ragas that seemed to breathe life into the chaupais. I’ve never been religious in a traditional sense—I’ve always been a skeptic. And perhaps that skepticism has allowed me to understand the Manas on a deeper level. The Manas must be experienced in the present moment; it’s not just an epic or a sacred text. It’s a key that opens a dimension to higher realities. To truly experience it, one has to live within the dimension of the Manas. What I’m saying is beyond words; only those who have experienced it can truly understand.

A year passed, and in that time, I met Mystique, Raven, Hemant, and a few others. Mystique and Raven had a special connection; they would often meet and celebrate even when I wasn’t around. In this one year, we all developed a unique bond. We spent entire days together, sharing joy and laughter, and eating meals as a close-knit group. We had built a foundation of trust, often sticking together and talking very little to anyone else. This close connection led people around us to speculate—we were often asked if we were part of some cult, Satanists, or even members of the Illuminati. We would simply smirk and choose not to answer, keeping our mystery intact.

Mystique was particularly curious about Wicca and witchcraft. I knew she was ready to become a Wiccan, and I was waiting for the right moment for her initiation. But was I certain about the others? I had my doubts. I decided to continue observing them, giving them more time before revealing the deeper secrets of Wicca. I wanted to change their perspective on Wicca. Wicca isn’t just about pricking voodoo dolls or chanting nonsensical words. I wanted them to feel the energy, to experience the essence of higher magick. I remember sitting in a particularly tedious laboratory session where we were expected to sit quietly for three hours. Sensing the monotony, Mystique turned to me and asked if I could start a mystical ritual. Without hesitation, I began. Almost instantly, we lost track of time. Those three hours felt like mere moments.

As we walked out of the lab, Mystique was glowing. She said she felt as though she was in a state of pure bliss, a state she never wanted to leave. She didn’t want to be pulled back into the mundane reality of the world. I laughed and reassured her, “It’s an endless ritual. Even if you step out of this state, I’ll guide you back whenever you’re ready.”