The Mystic Journey

By Jyoti Anand

Fifty-year-old Mira is a middle-class woman who has been thrown willy-nilly into a wide world of claustrophobic, inconceivable privilege in Mumbai, India. By day, she is a devoted companion to Vikram, her sweet and loving husband, and best friend to Megha, her soul sister. But when darkness falls and Mira sleeps, her astral travels lead her deep into a different realm where she realizes bliss, fears, and premonitions not found in the earthly world.

Miras house servant, Chandra, is a beautiful, underprivileged tribal girl from a distant village in Tamil Nadu who is unfortunately bound by blind customs and an oppressive society. As Miras dreams, musings, and astral travels shape her evolution as a very special and unique person, these episodes not only bring her wisdom and solace, but also help her to transform Chandras life and the lives of many others. But will Miras out-of-body experiences strengthen her to triumphantly emerge from her roller-coaster life or lead her somewhere she never imagined?

The Mystic Journey shares a tale of joy, doubt, fear, and the unbearable lightness of being as an Indian woman seeks liberation through her astral travels.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: May 18, 2018
• ISBN: 9781480859685

Jyoti Anand

Jyoti Anand has been grappling with her astral travel for some time. She blogs about her many out-of-body experiences at themysticjourneyofjoey.blogspot.com. Jyoti has an adult daughter and lives with her husband and young son in Mumbai, India, where she is hard at work on her second book.

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Copyright © 2018 Jyoti Anand.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Archway Publishing

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-4808-5966-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-5967-8 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-5968-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018904355

Archway Publishing rev. date: 06/18/2018

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21 - Postcript

Endnotes

I acknowledge with happiness and pleasure, My husband Anand the love of my life. My children Prerna and Rahul. My son in law Avi Singh. My beloved pet Dino who was a brave heart. My editor Mr. Murli Raman. My soulmate Niloni. My guiding angel Sujata. My entire extended family and all my wonderful friends.

Jyoti Anand

Chapter 1

Yesterday, I knew Bliss.

I knew bliss, I saw it, I smelt it, I felt it.

My mind wanders to the long, long moment of bliss I had lived. Or was it many moments?

I am sound asleep after a tiringly busy day. It’s a kind of happy tiredness, a slowing of my

whole self, in happiness at a day well-spent, doing a whole lot of stuff that demanded my

perennially hassled attention. I’m on a sail boat, it’s a long wooden sail boat. And it seems

to be floating gently along on auto. The pristine white sails seem to soar straight into the

sky. Did I go on to a boat and fall asleep, I ask myself. I look around at the beautiful,

turquoise-blue Mediterranean Sea. It’s beautiful. The sky seems to meet the sea,

seamlessly. I can’t seem to make out the horizon line at all, it seems as though it has

united with its Love, the beautiful, azure sea.

I am alone on the boat. Me and the silence. Besides the lapping of the waves

against the hull, there is no other sound. I love the silence, it’s so peaceful. No sound of

humans, no other sound. But wait, I see a seagull flying towards the boat. Its white wings

looking like perfectly-controlled sails, it dives straight down towards me, making a beautiful

sound. And I now have company. I love this company. It’s not intrusive. We float along in

companionable silence, mostly.

It is beginning to get dark, I can see the sky changing from blue to a gently fiery orange.

Strokes of orange and yellow, like a painting and soon, as the entire sky turns grey, a

sadness comes over me. The beautiful day has gone by, and I stand and watch the night

blanket everything. I am tired but extremely happy that I have seen such a wonderful

sight. And now, I must sleep, go back to my peaceful sleep. I curl up on the bench of the

boat, and drift into a blissful sleep, as the sound of the waves against the

sides of the boat rock me to sleep.

And suddenly the boat rocks violently, shaking me, roughly. I’m still far, far away inside

myself, but the shaking is incessant, insistent.

‘Mira, Mira, wake up, it’s time…wake up!’

It’s Vikram’s urgent voice, he’s shaking me by my shoulders, supposedly gently. I try to

emerge groggily from the depths of my sleep. I don’t want to leave this place; I want to

sleep peacefully for some more time, please let me stay here a little longer. Please Vicky, I

think, stop waking me up, ‘cause I can’t come out of here so quickly. Vicky, please wait,

my bleary eyes plead with him, as his handsome, blurred face swims into view.

I’m coming back, please wait, I’m coming back.

He looks a bit relieved, and straightens up, smiling a too-bright, happy, good morning

smile. I half-acknowledge him and slowly drag myself back to the world.

I always come back.

Yesterday, I knew Bliss.

I knew bliss, I saw it, I smelt it, it enveloped me.

Then it left me abruptly. Brutally.

But then, it’s such a pleasure to come back too. My Vikram’s handsome, chiselled features framed a brilliant smile. He’s always managed to have such a happy expression on his face. Even if a worry crosses his mind, or he is a bit stressed after a phone call from work, it is just as though a small shadow has crossed his face. He’s instantly back to his cheerful self, having efficiently taken care of his work.

Seeing that I was awake, he turned around and kept the tray of my morning bed tea on my side table, and plonked himself next to me on the bed. He smelled fresh from his bath, showered and wearing a delightful perfume. His starched, ironed powder blue full-sleeve dress shirt was embellished only with his subtle platinum cuff-links. His beige trousers were impeccably pressed too, and held up around his trim waist with a tan leather belt. His long legs stretched languidly away from the edge of the bed, where he sat easily, pouring out my tea, just the way I liked it, black with a hint of lemon and garnished with a sprig of mint. He then proceeded to make his own bonus half cup, but that always has a generous helping of dairy-fresh milk. He too does not have sugar though, at my insistence. He calls me a Dictator, but then I don’t mind being a Hitler, if it will save his health! After all, we are both in our fifties now. I’ve just turned fifty and he’s all of fifty-six! And he wears his years so well! My friends too tell me I am ageing gracefully!

We did a bit of small talk. We love doing this, nothing specific, about how there was a kingfisher that he saw in the garden just a while back, or how tall the bamboos were growing in the bamboo bed along the compound wall of our bungalow. It makes us feel close to each other. Who said togetherness was all about sweet declarations of undying love day in and day out? Give me a spirited discussion of the pros and cons of the new organic achar/ pickle that my friend Sweety had got along with her from her last trip to Hyderabad when she had gone to visit the ashram of her spiritual guruji, any day!

He poured me some more tea. I thanked him for being such a sweetheart. This ceremony is not a very regular ritual with us. That day was special. Most days, I’m up much ahead of him, I just cannot sleep when it’s become too bright. So it is me that brings him the tea in bed! And then, more often than not, we meet straightaway at the breakfast table because I’m mostly busy supervising the maharaj in the kitchen and the maids, while he is busy showering and getting ready. He doesn’t need tea as soon as he wakes up like me, and is content to have it with his breakfast.

This day was a special tea in bed tete-a-tete between us because I had just not woken up. He knew I was not there, that I was away on my Astral Travels. When this happens, it’s very difficult to wake me up, and I invariably wake up rather late. There have been the rare occasions when he has had to leave even before I could wake up, because of some urgent work at the factory, or an outstation trip. But Vicky is so sweet and understanding, he just literally hand-holds me. And never ever asks me to tell him what had happened when I was away…and even when I do tell him what I had seen and where I had been, he wouldn’t probe, but just listen and nod and just ‘be’ with me.

When I was bright and chirpy again, he got up, and saying he had to go to the bank about a due diligence on one of his prospective clients, very reluctantly left with a quick kiss on my forehead and a squeeze on my shoulder.

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I too got up, and after freshening up, went to the kitchen to find out what my maids had been doing. Vicky had asked them to make a simple meal, and they had done just that. I asked them to add one more dish, a mushroom and broccoli salad that he really liked, plus a little chivda* as a treat, and thus got a decent package going for his hot lunch that would go to the factory in a while. I was in no mood for a great lunch, but I did have a quick breakfast of sabudana kichdi* that I so loved. I rounded it off with my watermelon-kiwi juice sitting under my favourite umbrella on the sit-out, facing the sea. Dino had woken up from his morning nap when I went to the washroom, and had been waiting for me outside on the mat. He followed me all over the house, this beautiful golden retriever, my baby; and I spoilt him silly. He was my official food-taster too! Now he lay at my feet, the golden hair on his tail riffling gently in the breeze, squinting up at my face once in a while with one eye. I smiled back at him reassuringly. He was always searching my face to find out my mood, and was always supportive, and specially so when I woke up late like this after an episode. We had a soul-connection, Dino and I.

I reflected back on Vicky’s face that morning…I felt a bit sorry for him, and I felt selfish as well, as though I was making him be so patient and understanding. It wasn’t as though I was going on an astral projection by choice. These episodes kept happening to me. I was really thankful to my God that I’d got such a patient and undemanding husband. He did have his quirks and unreasonable demands; after all who is perfect? But they only showed his soft nature all the more. I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else, not now, not ever!

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And suddenly, all hell broke loose! Aman had woken up! He had come in from an outstation business trip late last night and so had been sleeping in. His flight from Hyderabad had been unduly delayed, and he was really ragged with waiting at the airport half the night for the flight to take off!

He stormed into the living room, saw I was sitting outside and strode out there, holding his morning cup of tea. Dino had already sensed he was up and had bounded in to escort him to the sit-out. Aman yelled out into the hose for Chandra to get his breakfast out, it was such a beautiful late morning! Then he plonked himself into a wicker chair across from me, after a huge hug and kiss on my cheek. ‘Ma’, he said, ‘Before you ask, lemme tell you, yes, my trip went off rather well, the animation is progressing beautifully, I’m so glad I chose this company to do my animation and graphics for my ad film!’ Then he took a long, slurpy sip of his steaming hot tea, grinned at me wickedly, and pulled out a pouch from his pocket. There was a special limited edition show of a jewellery designer I was fond of in Hyderabad, apparently. And Aman had chosen an exquisite, layered pearl string necklace for me. It was stunning in its simplicity, just the way I loved my jewellery! Dino sniffed at it, and seemed to approve, gave a soft woof, looked meltingly into my eyes, and went back to lying on Aman’s feet. I promised to try it out later, and kept it on the table.

Chandra came in quietly, carrying the breakfast table. Everyone knew Aman’s favourite foods, and he did not have to ask for anything specifically. He was the darling of all the help, with his infectious cheeriness and constant playfulness. Of course, he was mine and Payal’s and Vikram’s favourite person too! And so, the tray had his plain croissants, butter, jelly, and a double masala omelette, sizzling hot off the tawa. It also had his cup of English breakfast tea, all mixed and ready, with more in a small teapot. One cup wasn’t enough for his ravenous appetite. To please me, he had a tiny cup of the sabudana kichdi, and some cut fruit too. I always insisted that breakfast was the most important meal of the day, and the family had no option but to eat heartily. The fruit, he would make me eat, very smartly.

He thanked Chandra, and she smiled her brilliant smile at him, her pristine white teeth flashing happily, as she said in oddly-accented English, ‘Good morning, Aman saab!’. Chandra is a blindingly beautiful young girl from a very backward class tribal society, Paliyan, native to the Upper Palani hills of the South Western Ghats rainforests in Tamil Nadu. But more about her later, for my musings about her were interrupted by Aman, who was saying something to me. Chandra had glided away back into the house, and Aman was asking me what my plan for the day was.

I told him that I had woken up late, and he understood. I was feeling very drained out, and all I wanted to do was rest up in the morning, potter around in my terrace garden, and then, after lunch, I told Aman, I thought I’d catch up with Megha Aunty. Megha is my childhood friend, my bestie.

Aman smiled and then went on to persuade me to have some fruit, saying I looked a bit tired and hungry…and ribbed me on being a greedy pig once I started relishing the fruit, saying wasn’t my kichdi enough for me, why was I having the second breakfast. I made to tweak his ears, but he escaped. Laughing and leaving me much happier, he abruptly got up, saying, Mom, I gotta go, the rest of the post-production is still happening. I have to rush to the studio! Aman was an independent ad and corporate video film-maker, with a small start-up production house.

I finished up the bowl of fruit, smiling to myself still, at his antics. Then I picked up my phone and called up Payal, a daily routine. I had a nice pleasant conversation with her. She lived in Pune with her industrialist husband and his family. I was so happy to tell her about what I’d experienced last night. I normally do not share details, I usually just told her briefly about my astral travel…but this was a good astral trip, and I felt happy to share more. She was delighted and told me that she’d be in Mumbai over the weekend, there were some parties to attend as well. Chandra meanwhile came out and cleared the breakfast things, smiled at me and went back in, leaving me a glass of cumin water to drink. I loved the flavour of cumin or jeera, and besides, since it was good for the system, I always drank boiled water with jeera steeped in it. I sipped a bit.

I then gently nudged the golden ball of fur that was Dino, nestled on my feet, and got up. There were things to do. Chandu mali¹, the gardener, was watering the lawn below and doing some weeding. I signalled him to come up to the sit-out. It was actually a very large upper level, half in the shade of the building’s overhang, and half outside, an open terrace. This space had a clear glass banister all around, and was lined with large stone bowls, with trees, actually trees, growing inside them. I had got the large bowls made specially out of granite. My brother Dilip was in the stone and marble business, and often visited Tamil Nadu and Karnataka to source granite. So I had got him to make these from a place near Mamallapuram there. The trees I had got planted in them were thin-stemmed with a shock of greenery on top. It was the pride of my terrace garden and the cynosure of all eyes when we sometimes had intimate musical soirees here, under the stars. I worked with the gardener, trimming, pruning and removing some infection that had crept into some of the manicured potted trees there. Then I gave him instructions to turn over the soil, and to spray some herbal pesticide on the foliage. I went inside, checked on the cooking and looked through some mail that had come – random NGOs and charities that I patronised, and sales catalogues. Then I went in to get ready. I had fixed with Megha that I’d meet her for a lunch at Otter’s Club on Carter Road, Bandra. Megha lived there, and that was her usual hideout. The pool was good, and Megha was a water baby. Even when she wasn’t in the water, she liked to be somewhere close by a pool.

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Chapter 2

Things are never quite as scary when you have a best friend.

Hmm, soul mates. In our hectic, blink-and-you-miss-it world, which flaunts all sorts of people, we find ourselves racing through more relationships than we’d like to, in order to find that one person to whom we can truly open up our minds.

A soul mate has keys to fit our locks, and locks that fit our keys. When we feel safe enough to open the locks, our truest selves emerge into freedom and we are our naked, honest selves, with no inhibition. I don’t have a soul mate, I have a soul group, I mused, as Sachin deftly steered through the traffic. I have Megha, I’ve had her for very many years. But then, I also have Vikram, I have Payal, I have Aman, I have Dino…

They represent to me, the epitome of love and partnership. No one can fulfil you the way your soul mate can. There is a ton of a difference between your soul mate and a life partner — a person who dovetails and fits perfectly into you. Your soul mate makes you feel complete, there is no black hole, no lacuna. Yes, a life partner, on the other hand, can be a great supporter, I know Vicky is…he is also a true companion, but then, a life partner has to fit into certain roles, and thus, he is limited in his capacity to enrich my spirit.

We’re all naturally, as humans, designed to fall in love, and so we find our mates. And if we do find our soul group, that set of people that makes us feel secure and protects us, we are truly blessed.

Well, I know a woman who has