Bonds

Love

| Dots Writing Dojo

Love is something you can’t describe fully no matter how hard you try. I understand how love is both truthful and unreliable. I mean it’s actual form is really that scattered and variant. It’s more than what other sees; and its form is not just contained inside those who choose to love and respect each other, like best friends; but, it actually exists way beyond their existence as well as this dimension. I feel that lucid dreamers can experience love in it’s strongest form because they can read thoughts even when those they are located too far away from each other. For example, I always end up calling my close friend who is in another city just when she is about to run in trouble. It’s like my Lucid Knights are still protecting her. Thus, I love God more than the rest because God granted me the mind of a lucid dreamer.

love

Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.

Time is a Funny Bond!

| Dots Writing Dojo

I have been very busy with studies, this new blog, and my first book. Today, I was scrolling over my older blog and I found something startling. I have been taking content randomly from my older blog and putting it on my new blog. I never check the date or try to match them to the current dates while posting simply because there is no spare time to implement this strategy.

On August 19, 2017, I wrote the blog post “My Thoughts on ‘Key Of Solomon'”.  Today while reviewing my older blog, I found the same post under date August 10, 2016. I have no clue how this happened! I am a lucid dreamer, which is how this is possible. I am making the clicks unconsciously. I completed my entire research thesis on fruit fly the same way; I got my reference letter about stereodepth vision the same way; and I drive safely the same way.

august-2017

 

Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer.

In Love, They Waited Patiently

| Dots Writing Dojo

Note: I wrote this poem for my Belgian (Muslim) ex-fiance. I was in love with him when I wrote this; later, circumstances removed these feelings. But, that’s why I say “InshaAllah” when it comes to these critical things. “InshaAllah” means “if God wills”. So the attached prayer is that the match will disappear on his own if he is not for me. Prayer is a bond and intention that can work beyond human knowledge and comprehension.

I wrote this poem when I was around 25 years old. Its one of my oldest poems; and, it has not been edited at all simply because its a real memory. If you read it and compare it with the rest of my works, you will notice that it is much simpler in nature.

Oh my love! My heart pains for you
This insatiable pain is so consuming
I feel intoxicated with your thoughts
I am encompassed in your existence

This love is so beautiful
I never dreamed of this to happen
When the larks cry out the song of love
In my heart, every day

You are so far away and yet so near
It feels so poisonous and yet so relieving
This love that I feel for you my love
Demands the best of me, for you

I love you. I love you. Oh! I love you so much
I love you. I love you. Oh! how strongly I love you

You have won me over and over again
Oh my conqueror, my King
My love, my man, my friend
Love me today, tomorrow, and forever
Mould me into any shape you like and make me yours
Love me; desire me; and, don’t ever let go

I feel trapped
Unable to join you yet
I await your arrival InshaAllah
For one day, we shall join in Holy Matrimony
And that day, God will smile with us InshaAllah

True love will bloom and nurture under His Guidance
Without his permission, our love will wither away
Thus, I must be patient and so should you my love
One day God will join us, one day He will InshaAllah

Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.

How Good Men Teach Women?

| Dots Writing Dojo

I was at a business event in Oakville when one of the guys who was a bit drunk started being slightly verbally intrusive towards me. One of his male friends looked right at him and asked him to stop. He also asked me to walk away and to ignore him. He seemed angry at this man for saying something odd to me; and, I learned right away that something was going to go wrong if I didn’t listen to him. Around a year afterwards, I ended up in Ottawa. Here at another local business event, a rather old and fat stranger approached me and said, “You want to have babies, don’t you? Your features look like this.” I looked at his face feeling scared and shocked; and, I remembered that man from Oakville who felt that he had to intervene right away to protect me. My reaction now was similar and faster: I memorized this man’s face and avoided him throughout the event and after the event.

Another respectable business professional I came across in Toronto advised me to learn how to drive because he believed that driving is almost mandatory while working in Canada. I was really young back then; and, I am glad that I paid attention to his comment and worked hard to get a G License.

Then another noteworthy American poet reviewed my poetry and said that my work was very beautiful. I listened to his words and kept his note in my notebook. I used to read it every now and then and then think about writing. This is how he played a critical role in gearing me in the right direction with respect to my first book.

Lastly, a male lawyer told me about the condition of the abused Canadian women and advised me to start the “Buddy Program”. This is how I started gaining real experience of how abused women think and react differently than other women; how to talk to them; and, how to help them by sharing resources and contacts. Although this group is currently really small, it serves as an inspiration to everyone who wish to start their own “Buddy Program”.

Correct! Good men can teach women a whole lot of important things without breaking any boundaries or compromising the women. For example, in all these cases, I am not close to any of these men. These men are wonderful human beings and that’s why they were supporting and protecting me although they don’t know me well enough.

Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.

Same/Similar Food Urges

| Dots Writing Dojo

I get food urges when my siblings get them, especially when my brothers get them. I get this experience a lot when it comes to my two younger brothers. For instance, today I bought Sushi Family Pack after running around in the mall for a bit. When I got home, I ate a bit of it. Later in the evening, my younger brother surprised by suddenly visiting us along with his family–I had no idea whatsoever that he was coming. I looked at his face and then I realized why I got this strong urge to eat Sushi today. The fact is that he loves Sushi and he always eats seafood with his family. This is an indication of scent-based telepathy, I think.

dino-reichmuth-147745-unsplash

Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.

 

My Lineage: I am Rajput

| Dots Writing Dojo

I have heard stories of my ancestors who were called “The Rajputs”. I needed to go through a voyage of self-discovery, which I felt would somehow help me figure out my lineage. The only thing I know about my background is that some of my ancestors fled from India when Indo-Pak subcontinent was being divided into India and Pakistan. The Rajputs are the Royal Warrior (Military) clan of Indo-Pak subcontinent; and this race fought many nations and thus their history and historical remixes or origins are very cluttered. What is that additional whirl I feel whenever I meet a British, Belgian, or Chinese? Are these reactions generated towards those who are somehow historically related to me or are these due to my overactive mirror neurons? I know less about the Rajputs because I am Canadian and I have discovered myself in Canada. But when I look at the Rajput lineage, I feel there is a strong connection there due to common bloodline. These people are very courageous, which is how my courage is also defined. Here are some similarities between me and the Rajputs:

  1. Honorable Rajputs protect their women no matter what. I am a buddy from the Buddy system because of that.
  2. Rajputs love martial arts. I have some training in Martial Arts and I am willing to learn further. I have found that wearing the Gi somehow empowers my mind and puts it at ease. Also, I have been noticing the similarities between the Rajputian Khanda and the Sumarai Sword. Both of these swords have similar designs because of matching origins.
  3. Some Rajputs are lucid dreamers and artists. Its history! You can easily find out about this by reading about it. One of the top Bollywood Director, Musician, and Singer is a distant relative of mine. It all makes sense inside my head. This is why I am a Lucid Dreamer and an artist.
  4. Royal Rajputs love catching crime and then eliminating it slowly and cautiously. Is that why once I became a Knight in my sleep and then I ended up solving a real crime? Does that mean that I am the progeny of a real Knight? Or does that mean that I am just like any other expert Lucid Dreamer?

Its been a voyage. I recommend that you learn about the Rajputs slowly because they are a very large and ancient clan─I really love the fact that the Rajputian women used to participate in warfare and weren’t just sitting around like the rest of the women!

Rajputs
The Rajput Warriors – Son of A King – History of India | Educational Videos by Mocomi Kids
Arjun the Warrior Prince
Famous Pakistani Rajputs
Famous Indian Rajputs
Chinese Rajputs (formed through extension of rule)

Rajputian blood is Rajputian. It knows no bounds. I clearly see why my close friends call me “Chivalrous”. Its in my blood!

Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.

Jasmine

| Dots Writing Dojo

Note: This story is based on one of my childhood memories of my loving governess, Jasmine, who was responsible for babysitting and teaching me while I was in kindergarten. I was an accelerated child so I started reading at an earlier age.

Jasmine carried the girl in her arms who was crying like an infant after losing sight of her mother. “I want mommy. I want mommy, mommy,” she cried impotently as the governess addressed her gently while wiping tears from her small and round face. “Your bangs are so beautiful. They fall perfectly on your forehead such that you look like a princess,” she distracted the child further and kissed her left cheek as she sat on the checkered mattress. “She loves me. She is not mom, but she talks so softly. I must behave during this session,” the girl chided herself as she played with the hemline of her frock and nuzzled comfortably on Jasmine’s lap. “What do you want to do now? We should read, shouldn’t we? Which book do you want to read?” she asked the girl while pointing to her six books, which she had been eagerly carrying in her small backpack. Feeling lightened and soothed by her governess’s loving voice, the girl pointed to one book, “Let us read this one. It has pictures and description of a farm. I love farms Jasmine, love them,” she chuckled and rested her head against Jasmine’s bosom. She was a keen reader and as usual she surprised the governess by finishing the entire book in around five minutes. “Wow! You read so fast,” Jasmine exclaimed loudly as the girl played with her really long braids. “Who does your hair, Jasmine?” she asked curiously while caressing her governess’s braids. “Your braids are as thick as ropes. They are so pretty. They complement the shape of your face,” the girl cleverly returned the compliment that was issued to her a while ago. “Thanks! You are such a bright and sweet child,” Jasmine laughed as she closed the book and placed it in her backpack. “Your mom will be back soon and until then we should…,” Jasmine did not end up finishing her sentence because the girl broke down again. “I want mommy, Jasmine. Please, please…,” she cried in a rhythmic and lawless voice that echoed around the room and then wandered outdoors. “Oh! There, there. Let me clean your face. Your nose is running and your cheeks are looking so messy with tears,” Jasmine complained as she picked up the girl and ran to the washroom. She seated her near the wash basin, rinsed her clean hands with tap water, and wiped her face clean. The governess then washed her hands with soap and offered the child some water by cupping her hands. The girl drank the water from her hands like a thirsty pup and started feeling content, relaxed, and loved. “She is as caring as mommy,” she told herself as she threw herself in Jasmine’s arms and decided to nap.

Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.

Always Look Back

| Dots Writing Dojo


Note: This is one of my childhood experiences. None of this fabricated.

When I was a child, I prevented someone from kidnapping one of my siblings. The entire incidence is actually an example of telepathy, which exists between family members and loved ones (Expert Biologist Rupert Sheldrake: article, video). When this incidence occurred, I was in grade 4 or 5. We were returning from school and I had decided to run ahead while my younger brother was still several steps away from me. As I got inside my home, I kept getting a nudge at my heart like something was off.

“Where is my younger brother?” A small voice whispered to me.
I answered it quietly, “He is behind me.”
The voice persisted, “Are you sure?”
I started thinking slowly and then replied, “Let me check.”

Despite being so stressed, I looked back; I felt worried when I couldn’t see my younger brother following me. Then, for some reason I started feeling shaky and ran outside. Then, I got a massive shock. A really old woman was forcibly holding my younger brother’s tiny arm. He was crying for help; and, I got intimidated for a bit. I analyzed the situation immediately and realized that I wouldn’t be able to shake her off. Thus, I ran inside and complained to one of the men who used to work with my parents. He followed me because he knew I was a serious kid who didn’t like to joke around. We were lucky because we got there in time; he held the woman by her arm as he attempted to free my brother. Later, the police was also called as we found out that she was actually trying to kidnap my brother.

More I analyze this situation, more I realize that the voice inside my mind is something different. I have used it several times as an adult as well. Looking back is a philosophy that every human should apply, especially when it comes to watching over their loved ones.

look-back

Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.

Something Watches Over Her

| Dots Writing Dojo

Note: This post is based on one of my personal experiences. I think that the following is an example of channeling. I have not learned channeling formally, but I am somehow able to channel unconsciously and consciously. Even if I am not channeling through humans, I feel that something still watches over me. For instance, once I survived an accident and did not get killed simply because I had said a prayer a couple of minutes or perhaps seconds before the accident. 

She joined a group of experienced and passionate individuals who had either experienced paranormal phenomena or were willing to learn about them. For several hours, they shared their expertise and experiences in a very serious manner. By the time their meeting ended, she was exhausted and sleepy. “Let us go out and eat something at the restaurant,” one of them suggested. Despite her need to have a great time with her new friends, she decided to take a break and head home. “I will see you all some other time,” she smiled at them and walked towards the bus station. They waved their hands with a resolute understanding of those who had really seen struggles of life and slowly walked away towards the restaurant.

Thus, she stood alone at the bus station and waited for the bus. Unwillingly, she leaned against the glass and dozed off. Suddenly, something robust, something melodious, and something milky white held and rocked her as energy flew back in her tired and slim body. Perhaps, this rejuvenating experience lasted for a minute or so. As soon as she had absorbed this shared energy, she opened her eyes and smiled. There was nobody else there except for her. Now, she was ready for her long ride back home.

“Who or what was that?” she thought in a puzzled manner as she started walking away from the bus station. “Perhaps, it is not wise to stay in a desolate spot in the night,” she thought as she opened her cellphone and dialed home. “Was I standing in the energy field of someone else who was standing here in the past or was this a warning from one of the channelists of my group? Was something bad going to happen if I stayed here?” she kept wondering as she forced herself to walk calmly towards the nearest mall as she waited for someone to reply to her call.

Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.