Preface
There have been a lot of
things said about me, some untrue, some very close to the truth, but none
actually hit the mark. The reason is that the truth is elusive and facts change
with different perspectives. Fact is stranger than fiction, for fiction is a
made up story, whereas fact is a question mark. I will give you my vision of
the facts.
Many people will believe in
magic, just as others will not believe in UFOs. Probably to the disbelief and
disappointment of my followers, I must say that I am neither a magician nor an
alien. I am a human being, just like all humans, same body, same organs, same
brain.
Many people do not believe
in the power of the brain. On the Planet of The Apes, monkeys and apes managed
to develop their brain faster than humans and most aliens, ( at least the ones
I could examine,) seem to have smaller brains than ours. Mankind has the possibility
to dominate the universe, but probably luckily for the universe, we do not
trust ourselves enough to make the grade.
This mistrust left people
grasping for a reason why there have been humans with super abilities like
Jesus or Nostradamus or Merlin, or Hobbits and turn them into gods or prophets
or wizards or elves. People will never believe Harry Potter if he tells them
that his magic is but pure brainpower and mental exercise. I have said this
many times but no one ever believes me. Most people will not believe that this
world is a cycle of life. Things grow and die, back to the earth and grow again
and die again. Some of us want to die and when the cycle turns they ebb with
the tide. Others are determined to live on. The brain is so powerful that it
allows them to overcome death. Some return as other humans, or as other beings
within the earth. This depends on how developed the brain is. Most people refer
to this as reincarnation. Unfortunately some of the people who want to return,
(and this possibility is only confined to well trained and really developed
brains,) fail to do so completely and roam the world as ghosts or spirits.
Sometimes a ghost, can be described like a brain, which is a hidden file on the
monitor of the world,( as on a computer,) trying to find ways to return,
sometimes by contacting humans. These spirits have different motives, sometimes
to help, sometimes to hinder the living.
This knowledge I learnt as
my life unfolded, and a life is not an
easy thing to put in words. Memory too has clouded particular instances and so
has my pride or my wish to portray the people I cherish in a good light. I
wrote this first part as I was travelling through a Europe, which is roping
itself in to unite.
The story was written on a
diary. It does not mean that each part of the story was written on that
particular day that appears at the top of each part. There were days when I
wrote 4 pages and days when I wrote none.
Book 1
The Calling
The Initiation
31st December
The stone was fascinating.
It was big, nearly round and it was peaceful. My 9th birthday.
Gianni went away for a walk. “Hello,” I shouted. The stone shouted back to my
surprise. “My name is Mario.”
“Mario, Mario,” the stone
replied and then it turned into “Echo, Echo.”
“Your name is Echo?” I asked
and it replied, ”Name is echo, name is Echo” I never knew that stones could
speak. “Stones don’t speak,” I said.
“Stones don’t speak ,” it
answered.
“Then what are you ?” The
stone repeated the question. “I am Mario, it is my 9th birthday and
Gianni brought me here.”
“Me Hera,” the stone
replied.
“Echo or Hera ?” I demanded
getting a little impatient, but the stone merely repeated “Echo or Hera,’ and
left me unanswered.
“Echo or Hera are you a
stone ?” The stone retorted with, “Are you a stone?”
“No I’m not.” I sniggered,
and for the first time the stone changed her voice, for all the time it had
been repeating everything I said back to me with what looked like a copy of my
own voice. “Neither am I”
I was a little startled at
this change of voice, but being a very inquisitive child I could not help
asking, “Then what are you?” Again the stone repeated in my own voice this
time. “What are you ?” It might seem stupid but even today that question still
troubles me.
“Things are not what they
seem,” Gianni who had come back said. The stone repeated using Gianni’s voice
this time. “The stone doesn’t talk, it’s what is called an echo that you hear.
The stone again repeated this using Gianni’s voice. I could not actually
understand what was going on, “How did you do that ?” I asked Gianni.
“It’s easy, you just ask
Echo questions and it answers back. Hera lives on the stone, you cannot see
her, but you can hear her. She is a very wise spirit. She who is not seen but
heard.” The sea was rough and came into the bay like an army of men waving
their clubs as women screamed in terror. The water vanished and only a mass of
dead bodies lay. “Your ancestors,” Hera whispered, “Massacred by the legions of
Dalma.”
“Who is Dalma ?” Hera was
silent, the waves crashed again, as swords clashed and horses kicked their way
to death. “Gianni did you see that ? What does this mean ? Who were my
ancestors ? Who is Dalma ?” I turned around and saw that Gianni had tears in
his eyes. He suddenly kneeled before me and kissed my feet. I was stunned.
Gianni was like a father to me. He was big and strong with black hair and brown
eyes. “Why do you kneel ?” Gianni looked up at me, “Mario you are designed for great things.”
He kept on looking at me as
if in some sort of trance. “Why do you say that ?” Gianni slowly rose and
taking hold of my hand led me closer to the water’s edge where the waves had
regained their calmer self.
1st January
“You have just seen a
vision, which the spirit Hera only reserves for the chosen one. Many parents
bring their children here, for Hera chooses only the pure of heart and free of
mind. Hera chooses but once in a thousand moons.” I was looking at the sea
where the battle scene had been so vivid but a few moments ago. “Do you mean
that what I saw was a vision ? I saw armies and dying people. Who were they
Gianni ?”
“I don’t know, my chosen
one, I didn’t see them.”
Now I became sort of
desperate and alarmed, “But the horses and the mothers grabbing their children
and asking for mercy even as the blood dribbled from their bodies ?” My voice
echoed all around, but I was not interested in the echo anymore. “I didn’t see
anything, I was not chosen to see the vision.” I held Gianni by the wrists and
I shook him like any child would, “But surely you heard Hera tell me about
Dalma ?” Again Gianni shook his head.
I looked at the sea again.
It looked as it always did, blue and serene. It was hard to believe that I had
seen the sand and strange buildings going up in flames and mothers and children
and horses as men dragged the women away or murdered them before the very eyes
of their own children. I had never heard nor seen such violence before. I had
seen how the fishermen cut the heads off fish and how the house wives chopped
off rabbit heads and plucked chickens, but I had never seen humans do it to
other humans. I had never seen such a thing at Huta, my island home.
“My chosen one, let’s go
home now,” Gianni announced. From then on, Gianni called me, ‘The Chosen One,’
and treated me like some idol. It was quite a funny feeling at first. I had
been just a normal village boy and now I was not allowed to carry anything, or
do any rough work, the sort of errands that village children do. The children
often helped to carry water from the spring and take it home to their families
or various elder people in the village. It was also normal to help with
ploughing the little patches of fertile land scattered around the rocky barren
cliff face of the village, or to pick capers, olives, oranges, apples, prickly
pears, and other fruit which grew wild a little way off from the sea side
village. The village lived on these products. They grew potatoes, wheat,
turnips, pumpkins, tomatoes and so on. Meat was scarce. Goats, rabbits and
chicken, normally bought for a high price from other villages. Fish was
plentiful.
However soon all the village
was calling me “The Chosen one,” and I was excluded from any work whatsoever.
2nd January
Ix-Xih, (meaning ‘Old Man,’
which however at the time carried great respect as Ix-Xih was the wisest man in
the village, ) with a doubled up back, long white hair and a beard came up to
Gianni’s hut. The neighbours had come to us to give us warning prior to his
arrival. Gianni scrubbed my face and made sure I looked as smart as possible.
“My Chosen One, Ix-Xih wants to talk to you. This is a great honour. He is one
of the wisest men in Huta.” I do not remember what impression Gianni’s words
made on me, I was but a child and knew nothing of man’s ways and the older I
grow, I find out how little I still know, for man is unpredictable.
Ix-Xih took my hands. “My
dear Chosen One, you came to our village as an infant. The woman who brought
you to me told me that your parents were both dead and that they wished you to
be called Mario, which means “The Light,” in some foreign country’s language.
It means that you come from some other country and that you are bound to answer
some sort of calling that is reserved only for a chosen few. We entrusted you
to Gianni here and he has done us proud. We are honoured to have ‘The Chosen
One,” here in our midst. One day you will leave our tiny village and the shores
of this island. Your eyes will see what none here will ever see, what none here
will ever hear, you will touch what our hands cannot touch and you will feel
what our hearts cannot feel. You will then start to understand what we never
will. This is your destiny. You will carry the torch of reason, the torch of
wisdom. In you lies the leader of our race and you will jump into the skies and
show us what lies there, then you will guide the ones that will follow and they
will tread into your footsteps which will serve them as a fountain of wisdom.”
3rd January
“I don’t know when the
spirits will come to pick their ‘Chosen One,’ but you have been given a sign.
You must open your eyes and your heart, use your ears, your senses and you must
look for the signs that will lead you to the world of ‘The All-Knowing,’ which
is where all chosen ones go.”
“You will also have to learn
many things. You are but a child. One thing you must always remember, that
wisdom is a great thing, but it must be used well. There have been chosen ones
who decided to use their wisdom in evil ways or for their own egoistic profit.
Then the earth fell into a deep, sickly night where thousands died and others
suffered, till the evil one’s wisdom drained, for evil is stronger than wisdom
unless your wisdom is healthy and pure. Then flowers blossom and the sun
shines, and then ‘The Chosen One,’ can roam the earth telling stories and
feeding his wisdom to the common people for wisdom must be shared. As ‘The
Chosen One ,’ you must always remember your duty to your people. You have been
chosen a pure child. Wisdom lies only in keeping yourself pure. Evil things are
always a temptation. If you are wise you will opt for peace.”
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