Psychic Detective chapter 12

As he talked I slipped gently over the very edge of dreams.

I ‘saw’ the Temples and heard the Elephants as they roared and trumpeted moving toward the Temple dressed in their finery of jewels, and painted with Gold, Silver and Bright colours. I smelled again the smells of India. I felt the heat. Saw the beauty that could only be Indias in its art and architecture.Each work of art a symbol and a manifestation of a God or his powers, symbolism in every gesture and posture. Ornate Stupas and Monasteries which held colossal gilt figure and imported glassware.
The Indian sculptured Art, usually mainly reddish limestone, where benign Buddhas smiled Benignly down on worshippers,; all the temples exuberantly embellished with sculptures and Jain manuscript illuminations, brightly coloured with the protruding ‘farther’ eye.(Third Eye) Rajput paintings were characterized by nature and the sinuous grace of the human form.
Many religions each offering their own interpretation of the one Great God.
I heard again the music, the bin (a plucked lute) and mridangam ( a double-headed , barrel shaped drum) and the sitar (the long necked plucked lute). The tabla (a two piece drum set) and the voices which sang with the instruments, telling stories of the trials and tribulations of a nation, or singing about the love of a girl for a boy she couldn’t have, because she had already been promised to another. The music haunting to the senses.

I ‘saw’ the great Indian desert, Jaisalmer, the village right in the heart of it.
This was where the Colonel had taken a company of men to search out some brigands who had gone to the desert to escape capture. He had pursued them for a month before he had caught up with them; he and his men suffering real hardship with the heat; but after a brief, if somewhat bloody, skirmish had returned them to the fort to be imprisoned for their crimes. It was after this that he had been promoted to Colonel, the youngest serving Colonel in the Army at that time.
I ‘felt’ the heat of the desert where no wind blew and only large Carrion flew in search of any perished traveller, animal or human.
I ‘saw’ the magnificent Temples with their Golden Gods. The God Bhrama, with three heads looking all ways at once. I had interpreted this as the one Great God being able to see all things at all times. The Elephant god, Gavesa, the one Great God being as strong as an Elephant and the strongest Beast on Earth. Siva, the Dancer Goddess, with a thousand arms, the One Great God who could do all things all at the same time, ;and it didn’t matter that it was depicted as a woman, for the One Great God was both male and female. There was Karttikiya, the God of war, with six heads and who rode on a Peacock. There was good and there was evil fighting for supremacy. Nothing changed I thought.
I had realized whilst in Tibet, that all religions were basically the same, all asking only one thing of man, that he loved his fellow like the One Great God loved him, and do no evil to anything, either human or animal.
I ‘was’ in India.

I came back to the ‘now’ coughing and spluttering fighting for breath. As I opened my watering eyes I found the Colonel leaning over me with smelling salts held close to my face. As I gently pushed his hand away, he said:
‘You alright, m’dear? Bless my soul, you went out cold, dead to the world you were, thought for a moment you were a gonna by jove m’dear’ he was peering closely at me.
’I’m fine, really. I am sorry about that. I do it sometimes, something to do with my blood sugar’ I fibbed, crossing my fingers behind my back. I did not want to go into great detail of what had happened, but I didn’t want the Colonel to think I was odd, hence the white lie.
‘You need a drink m’girl, Brandy’ he proclaimed as he crossed over to the sideboard to pour one out for me, and to drink one himself.
I had stood up and was holding onto the mantle of the fireplace. As I stood there my eye was caught by a photograph of a strikingly handsome young man with a cloak tossed nonchanantly over his right shoulder, It wasn’t his riveting good looks which caught my attention, but the ring on his finger. It was ‘the’ ring.

Psychic Detective chapter 12

hilarydougill

Co Durham, United Kingdom

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