by Linda Hawley
The Year 2015
It did take me three full days to recover in Vitre from my jet lag and prepare for our travel to Mount Abu. When we finally arrived in Udaipur, India, it had taken thirty-three hours to fly, instead of twenty hours, caused by a mechanical delay with one of our planes. I had been coughed on, squished, inundated by exotic smells—both of spices and humans—and was so exhausted that Chow insisted that we find rooms somewhere, and travel on to Mount Abu the following day. I didn’t resist.
When we arrived in the city by taxi from the airport, we quickly learned that the annual pilgrimage to Mount Abu’s temples and shrines was well underway. There wasn’t a hotel room to be had anywhere. With his unfailing patience, Chow left me in a café to rest, while he sought out a place for us to sleep. After he was gone an hour, I was willing to sleep on the dirty café floor and was actively contemplating the possibility.
“I found something,” Chow said as he came up behind me, startling me out of my upright trance.
“Okay,” I said and stood to follow, limbs heavy and zombie like. I felt drugged.
The only transportation Chow could flag down in the mass of pilgrims was an auto-rickshaw. When the three-wheeled cart stopped to pick us up, I simply looked at Chow curiously, then stepped into it while he bargained with the driver, fixing the price.
As my head led my body into the tiny space, I was immediately engulfed by the mixed smells of sweat, wet fur, urine, mold, bad feet, and spices. Quickly, I pulled my shirt to my nose and tried not to gag. Chow climbed in and looked at me as he crinkled up his nose, then looked ahead. The driver started moving.
It was a ten-minute journey I shall never forget. I’m convinced the driver was half out of his mind, for he heeded no traffic sign, nor rules, opting instead for any maniacal driving that suited him on the unpaved, dusty, potholed road. As we weaved around other motorized and human-powered rickshaws, camels ridden by whole families, and trucks filled with stones for road-building, I had to hold on to my bag for dear life to keep it from tumbling onto the dirt road. When we finally stopped, I was filled with gratitude and left the device as though it were flammable.
Not looking forward to the smell memory created by the trip, I tried to find something unique and alien to focus on, to tie it to something I would never encounter again.
Now that I had left the smell-trap, I repeatedly breathed deeply. Chow paid the driver, who quickly left, then turned to me and burst out laughing. I had never seen him like this before. I watched Chow as he lost complete control, giving in to the stress of the day as he exercised his funny bone.
That’s when I noticed the roses behind him. In front of me, I saw hundreds or perhaps thousands of roses of every imaginable color.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I said in astonishment.
Chow reduced his laughing fit and turned around to see what I was gazing at.
“It’s the only place I could get for us,” he said, wiping his eyes.
“We’re sleeping in a rose garden?” I asked, unsure, considering our recent travel experiences.
He started laughing again; he was still working out that funny bone.
“Chow, where are we?” I asked seriously.
“We are at Sahelion Ki Bari.”
“And what is Sahelion Ki Bari?”
“A garden.”
“We’re sleeping in a garden?”
“No. I’ve secured the caretaker’s guest house. He will sleep amongst the roses.” That was all it took, and Chow was in a full-on laugh attack.
I sat down right where I was on the concrete and waited him out. I imagined a simple bedroll, pillow, and light blanket; it was enough for me today.
Chow finally gathered himself, took a deep breath, and stepped out to find the caretaker. I decided to simply sit there and breathe deeply. They returned together a half-hour later.
It took two days of rest for me to recover; at least my recovery time was decreasing. Chow seemed resilient from jet lag and spent his time touring the garden, which he then told me the history of.
Sahelion Ki Bari—meaning Garden of the Maidens—was situated on the banks of Fateh Sagar Lake and was built in the Eighteenth Century. It was full of fountains, pools, extensive lawns, sculpted marble elephants, and of course the fragrant and glorious rose garden.
I was sorry not to investigate it further, but we were late in arriving for our GOG meeting. Chow had sent word to Brahma Kumaris World Spiritual University that we were delayed. I prepared myself mentally for the long journey to Mount Abu over mountain roads, knowing it would be difficult.
We traveled by Jeep, which apparently had excellent suspension, because the trip wasn’t as jarring as I’d prepared myself for. Our driver made the trip in five hours, which was lightning quick, compared to the standard. We passed many pilgrims on the journey up the mountain. Streams flowed from the lush hills, and the statuesque mountains of the Aravali range mesmerized me. I was glad not to be driving the Jeep, for I certainly would have driven off the embankment, plunging into the gorge below.
As we arrived at Brahma Kumaris World Spiritual University, a warm feeling enveloped me as I stepped out of the jeep into the cool mountain air. Before me on a hill, was the white, three-story Universal Peace Hall, a very large building with domes on either side. Nearly fifty steps climbed to the archways which spanned the front of the building; behind them were ground-to-ceiling windows that covered the entire level. Each building end curved around to the sides, creating a beautiful majestic presence. When the Om Shanti Bhawan was built thirty-two years previously, it was the largest structure without interior columns or pillars on the Asian subcontinent. The name of the spiritual organization, Brahma Kumaris, adorned the front, above the center three archways. Climbing the steps to the Peace Hall were hundreds of pilgrims, clothed in every imaginable color. The contrast of their adornment to the whiteness of the building as they ascended, coupled with the clouds touching the surrounding mountains, impacted me deeply, as though the pilgrims were ascending into heaven itself.
Chapter 30
MOUNT ABU, INDIA
The Year 2015
The Amrit Vela bells rung me from my slumber at four.
Can’t the Nectar Time come later in the morning? I thought, as I pulled my bed covers aside.
Dressed for the morning meditation in the casual and modest white linen clothing given to me upon my arrival, I stepped out of my small bedchamber into the pre-dawn air. It smelled of fresh mountain air. Solar-powered lamps lit the way to the Universal Peace Hall. Chow met me on the pathway, also dressed in white.
“Sleep well?” he asked.
“Well enough. Still asleep, I think. Had a vivid dream.”
He smiled. “Anything important?”
“Don’t know yet. How was your sleep?”
“I also had a vivid dream.”
That woke me up. I put my hand on his arm, stopping both of us, then looked him in the eye. “Were you co-dreaming with me?”
“You said I needed your permission, right?”
“Yes. Thank you for respecting my wishes,” I said, and then we continued walking.
After crossing the street from the University campus towards the Universal Peace Hall, we started to climb the many stairs, which certainly would rouse me. As we entered the hall, my first sensory encounter was with the slight aroma of incense.
We met our GOG friends in the assembly hall and, along with the pilgrims, joined the meditation in the main hall.
Afterward, I asked Chow, “How do you feel?”
“I feel peaceful and invigorated, with my thinking clear and sharp.”
“Hmm. I feel exactly the same way. I also don’t feel any need for caffeine.”
“No Mountain Dew up here,” Chow said flatly.
“I beg to differ,” I joked.
He chuckled.
We ate breakfast with many others, back at the University’s dining hall. I listened to the rhythm of the accents, trying to tune my ear. Every
one here seemed happy, and smiles were abundant, even at this early hour. After we ate, Chow and I split away into our private GOG group; there were five of us.
The small white meeting room contained five white cushions prearranged in a circle on the floor. Along the wall was a small table with a glass pitcher of water, along with glasses. There was nothing else in the room except white curtains and the ceiling fan to move the air; it gave new meaning to minimalist. Chow and I sat next to one another, among our new friends. With all of us dressed in white, the only color in the room was our bodies and hair.
“First of all, I want to thank you both for coming so far to meet with us. My colleagues and I only traveled from Mumbai,” Aarushi began with his thick accent.
He was clearly the leader of the three. Aarushi was the shortest, at only about five-foot-one, and had a squat body. With his wide black eyes, high forehead, and thick wavy brown hair, he had a striking intensity. He looked to be in his fifties.
“We’re happy to go where we’re needed,” I said simply.
“Excuse me. May I ask, is this room secure?” Chow asked with concern.
“We are thirteen hundred meters above the sea, surrounded by people on a spiritual journey, at a secluded institution that promotes spiritual understanding and is friendly to our organization,” Aarushi answered with facts, his face expressionless.
“There is no threat here,” Shubham added, shaking his head. He was an inch taller than the leader, with jet-black hair shaved close to his head. His face was small—beady eyes, modest nose, minimal mouth—but Shubham had the thickest mustache I’d ever seen. He had a firm, fixed nature, and he appeared to be in his thirties.
“They teach about the nature of the soul, God, and karma here,” Aahan softly chimed in, taking a spiritual tact. Being the tallest of the three at five-foot-six, Aahan had engaging hazel eyes, a dimpled smile, and an easy disposition. It was difficult to pinpoint how old he was, but I guessed him to be about my age. Aahan seemed to always speak about matters in a spiritual context and seemed quite peaceful and content, clearly a peacemaker.
Chow and I looked at one another, saying nothing. These three were unlike most members of GOG in North America.
“Let’s proceed my friends,” Aarushi continued, certain they’d resolved Chow’s concerns. “There is a complex government problem which has become a crisis—that is why we have brought you here—to help us.” He seemed to wait for some acknowledgement.
Both Chow and I nodded.
“We are aware, Ann, of your spiritual gifts,” Aahan said, flashing his dimpled smile.
“Spiritual gifts?” I asked him, uncertain.
“Your gifts from God, my dear,” Aahan said, leaning forward.
I nodded my head. It was just his choice of phrasing that I didn’t understand at first.
“We believe your gifts can assist us in resolving our crisis,” said Aarushi.
“What is the crisis?” Chow asked.
“When our government created its human database by RFID chipping with biometric retinal scans and fingerprints, we knew that their intent was to control and track all Indian citizens. Earlier this year, however, our government began rationing the food of its people. Using their tracking database, each citizen is only allowed a certain amount of food each day, depending upon their height, weight, age, and occupation,” Aarushi explained.
Chow and I looked at one another; neither of us had heard of this before now.
“Of course the wealthy obtain all the additional food they want on the black market, and the government turns its head. It has caused a great problem of malnutrition amongst the poor of our country. They only have enough food to remain alive—nothing more,” Shubham added.
“What would you like us to do?” I asked compassionately.
“You have spiritual gifts, my dear. You must learn how God wants you to use them. We met here at Mount Abu so that you would find clarity, through inspiration, to best help relieve the suffering of our people,” Aahan said, staring me down expectantly.
“Can you give us details on how they’re storing the RFID and biometric data?” Chow asked.
“Yes. We know a great deal; we have someone on the inside,” Aarushi confirmed.
“Good. Why don’t we spend some time learning all you know?” Chow asked.
For several hours, our GOG associates filled our brains with their knowledge about the Indian government’s operation, including the logistics. We didn’t yet have a plan of how to thwart their control of the food supply, but we did understand how they operated. It was enough to get Chow and I focused on creating solutions.
Chapter 31
INDIA
The Year 2015
“Do you think we’re in the right place?” I whispered to Chow.
“Yes. I do not see how it could be any place else,” he said in my ear.
“But they said there would be a guard here, and we walked right in.”
“It is two AM. Maybe the guard is taking an unauthorized nap,” Chow said with a wilting smile. “Let’s just look for the equipment.”
We opened the door accessing the next room and immediately knew we were in the right place from the cold, air-conditioned room, and the computer racks.
“There it is,” he said gratefully.
Excitedly, I replied, “Let’s do it.”
Chow pulled up a computer chair and began to type on the keyboard. We had found the password in the director’s office, on a sticky paper under his desk blotter. Some things never changed with time. We memorized the pass code and left the paper where it was. If his superiors knew of the security breach, he’d be fired, but it was our goal to be invisible today. I saw Chow scanning the list of files, looking for the right one.
“Got it,” he whispered.
I handed him the USB thumb drive containing the virus.
“Uploading,” Chow confirmed. “Five seconds…done.”
He handed me back the small device, and I pocketed it. Chow returned the chair to its original position and reset the keyboard as well. We stood back to make sure there was no indication of our presence. We backed out the door, closed it, then went through the next room. Chow peeked out into the hall; still no guard. We left quietly. Once we were outside the building, we slipped back outside the perimeter fence, then replaced the breached entry. Chow hacked back into the video and audio surveillance system along with the motion detection controls using his handheld and restarted the live feed. There would be no trace of our intrusion.
“All done,” Chow announced with a smile.
I returned his smile.
“So all I do is remember that I have a body?” I asked him.
“Yes. Just imagine what it feels like to breathe deeply in your physical body,” he told me reassuringly.
Chapter 32
MOUNT ABU, INDIA
The Year 2015
Feeling the heaviness of my chest, I breathed deeply, then looked over at Chow. He had also just awoken and smiled at me as he began to sit up.
“Success?” I asked, sitting up as well.
“I think so. Was it strange this time, having me there with you?”
“You know, it really didn’t feel any different than when you were with me in Shanghai. It felt natural.”
“That’s good. How was it coming back into your body this time?”
“It felt heavier—like I was weighed down—but other than that, it was no different than waking up from a dream.”
“I think our co-dreaming practice is paying off. We were both able to come back from the dream at the same time, whereas before, you were coming back after me.”
“This time, doing a real operation felt different from our practice sessions. I can’t wait to find out tomorrow if we had success.”
“Today is tomorrow,” Chow corrected me.
“Yeah, but I meant when we wake up.”
“Ann, the bell rings for Amrit Vela in two hours. I don’t know about you, but I have no plans t
o sleep before then.”
“That makes sense. I couldn’t sleep now anyway.”
“Technically, we already slept.”
“Chow, please let your exactness rest for a moment,” I said in all seriousness.
He looked down to our floor. We were silent for several minutes.
I decided to change the subject. “I think these morning meditations are making a difference for me.”
“A difference how?” he asked me.
“Well…you know I’ve been meditating since the CIA first trained me. It’s been a long time practicing. But here, in this place, sitting quietly still while staring at a point of light, something is shifting in me. I feel a life force within me, a sense that I have come home, as though I’d forgotten where I lived.”
I looked at Chow to see if he thought I sounded a little out there. Gratefully, he was tuned into my frequency, so I continued.
“Ever since I unknowingly unsealed The Prophecies by bringing my childhood crystal back from the dream, I’ve felt the doorway between my subconscious and conscious reality open wider and wider. But since I’ve been meditating, I’m sensing integration between both. Things that used to be entirely subconscious, I’m now aware of.”
“Can you give me an example?”
I thought for a moment. “I’m starting to understand who I really am. I don’t mean maturing, like everyone does. This is more like pure knowledge coming to me that has been coded into my cells themselves.”
“What is the knowledge?” he asked, my insight interesting him.
I paused, trying to put it into words. “That I was sent into this world to fulfill a divine plan for me. I believe my purpose was to open The Prophecies and to use the power given me to change the world. Think about it, Chow…think about all the things that prepared me for this exact point in my life. My near-death experience as a child. Having a dad who taught me to cherish the earth and to seek spiritual guidance. Joining the Air Force and having the CIA choose me for a paranormal project from hundreds of thousands of others. Being offered a job with the CIA as a paranormal agent once my Air Force enlistment was up. Having you target me to co-dream with.” I paused. “Even Armond’s death—which was an indescribable loss—taught me to consider pursuing a spiritual life,” I said quietly. “None of this feels random to me anymore. I have a sense of real purpose and gratitude for being able to change the path of mankind for the good.”