The Akashic Plane: Where the Ethereal Meets the Real

By S.M. Patel

Topper grades, drop dead Greek God looks, bags of money — Akash Joshi, who had missed all these boats, had ended up as the quintessential average of averages. His harrowing articleship at the accounting firm and less-than-great performance at college become the final straws that leave him contemplating the ultimate escape of suicide.

Akash does find his escape. Not quite in death, though... But in a parallel universe hidden in plain sight. A near-death experience bizarrely bestows upon him the yogic power of an awakened Kundalini, letting him transcend the material dimension into a higher order of the universe.

Right after, a murder at the accounting firm lands Akash amidst a dangerous puzzle. Poking around the firm’s suspicious clients drags him deeper into a web of nefarious characters and their sinister underground links. But he is determined to solve his way out of this maze, hoping to finally become someone his parents would be proud of. And with his new superpower, he might be the only one to be called upon to crack it.

Little does Akash realize that this adventure can cost him his career and life, both already hanging by a fine thread! With the stakes so high, will he be able to rise above all the challenges before the noose tightens? Or will his superpower abandon him when he needs it the most?

• Language: English
• Publisher: One Point Six Technologies Pvt Ltd
• Release date: Nov 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9789356670495

S.M. Patel

SHWETA PATEL has given most of her life and career to fighting fraud and financial crime in banks. May be that was an overhang of her childhood which was spent in reading her grandfather’s vast collection of financial crime, espionage and other crime thrillers.Her only claim to fame as far as writing goes though is the humour column she used to write for a college magazine. (Thankfully, that was from a time when every forgettable written word didn’t leave an online footprint forever.) Before that, she also wrote some poems in school, that clearly didn’t go on to become a national treasure either.She was born and raised in a leafy suburb of South-Western Mumbai, but given her reclusive tendencies, she currently lives and writes in her penthouse in Pune, where she resides with her husband and a very naughty ginger tabby.

Book preview

Chapter 1

CT-Orn

His eyes were foggy. He rubbed them once and then rubbed them harder. He could hear his mind go Wait. Wait, what! Was this some kind of a practical joke? The last thing he remembered was running towards the sea at the Gateway of India. Running towards the sea… hold on! Was he dead? He could not tell what was going on. There he was, thrown in the middle of a snow-capped mountain between two icy peaks of blazing white snow and just crisp blue skies with not a cloud in sight… Just snow and skies as far as the eyes could see, awash with the oblique rays of daylight from a hidden sun he could not see. It was windy and cold, but he wasn’t shivering. It was pleasant maybe, but certainly not as cold as this place should be. Was this a movie set?

And there was more. There was a tiny figure in blue, sitting in deep meditation at the top of the peak. Was that who he thought it was? Clearly, there was an explanation. He had somehow landed right back in Goregaon, in Film City and they had thrown him on one of the stages. Or was it Mehboob Studio? But Bandra and Goregaon were too far from Colaba. Who was playing this joke on him? His mind was racing while processing a thousand thoughts a minute. The last thing he could recall was that he had landed hard somewhere after running off of the promenade at the Gateway, followed by a blur. There was one way to confirm this.

He raised his hands to look at himself, to check if his body was in one piece. Both hands in place… both legs, check. So that settles it, sure enough. He wasn’t dead. He ruled that out. Just as he was thinking through the other scenarios, the figure in blue opened his eyes and started on a very slow and graceful march through the soft deep snow towards him. As the figure loomed closer, he could tell that he was almost luminous, as though, if it were night time, he would somehow glow in the dark like a lightning bug. This was certainly no model or actor. He was the real deal. Here was a magnificent presence walking towards him like a ball of pure energy! It was ethereal.

There was an excitement in his mind, but also a fear mixed with awe that froze Akash in his tracks. He could not move! And it was not because of the icy winds, because somehow, he could not feel it… or feel anything really. He stood there like a rock until the figure came within a few feet of where he stood.

As the massive and magnificent personality stood there with his sweeping dreadlocks swirling around him in the wind, Akash could not help but be mesmerised by this sighting, and those deep brown Rudraksha coloured eyes that sparkled in the oblique rays of the sun. The long bass and distant note of a conch went off in his head to the rhythmic staccato words of Kalabhairavam Bhaje rolling fluidly to the slow enchanting beat of the dhol drums. This could not be anyone other than Rudra himself. Rudra, Shiva, Mahadev – known by his many names was standing within touching distance. Somehow, the person in front of him was so ethereal. He stood in his tiger skin robe, half exposed to the elements and his famous Trishul shaped spear held in those toughened well-toned muscular arms.

Like a cheap minded human, Akash started to think how old he might be. Not a shade older than forty-five or may be fifty, like how old is Akshay Kumar again? May be younger than him as well, he thought. I am many thousands of years old, said the figure. Don’t bother counting. And he laughed a deeply guttural but extremely friendly and disarming laugh. Akash was still in his petrified stupor. Great, thought Akash and of course, he can read my mind. Akash thought to himself even though he could not get a single intelligent word out of his mouth.

"Har Har Mahadev!" he said, finally folding his hands together in a humble namaste in the manner of paying obeisance to the great supreme destroyer of the three Worlds. That was the best he could think to say, as he struggled for words. To which the towering figure responded with a nod and a smile. And that’s why I am here for you, son, he said as he raised his right hand in a blessing.

The language spoken was not English. It was not Hindi either. Was it Sanskrit? Akash could not tell. But somehow the spoken words were clear as crystal in meaning and import. We are speaking in thought vibrations, said Shivji. The kind humans in flesh and bone won’t ever understand.

Akash was left even more confused by this statement. Then am I not human? Who am I? He was still blankly staring at this fascinating being in front of him. The Shivjis he had seen on the mythological shows on television with their hideous make-up, and God-awful wigs despite their picture-perfect build, their amazingly photo-shopped abs, battleship jawline and perfectly sculpted features could not hold a candle to the perfection that stood in front of him. He could not describe it, but this version in front of him was infinitely more spectacular and magnetic in His appeal. And it wasn’t anything particular about his features or his voice or even the dramatic hair. It was a surreal quality of a kind you find only in paintings like the ones on ISKCON’s walls. At the same time, it was like he was at the epicentre of a giant magnet’s field. He could not get his eyes off the brown eyes looking at him with beneficence he could never be able to relate back in any human language. May be that’s why these guys here seemed to talk in some fancy thought language.

Did you ask who you are? What a loaded question, he drawled and then did that guttural laugh again in that rich baritone voice you only heard on the radio. Hey. What’s that? There’s something stuck on your nose. Okay now you’re just messing with me Shivji, thought Akash as he placed his finger on his, wait. Where was his nose? Forget about a nose, he didn’t even have a face to hold the nose. He started feeling frantically for his head. No nothing there. Nada. Zip. He felt nothing. He tried to pinch his own arm. Aaaah! He could see his arm, but not feel it. This was all getting too baffling for his simple average mind. A body he could not feel. Seeing him frantically search for his own body, Shivji decided to help him out. Look at you getting all worked up. Relax! It sounded funny in my head. I didn’t mean to scare you, kiddo. There’s nothing to be so worried about. You, my friend, are just the soul that was inside Akash’s body.

And how was that nothing to worry about? thought Akash. How were these God beings so cool? Oh no! he wailed like a long siren. "That’s what I thought. I’m dead as a doornail, aren’t I? What have I done? Shivji I was very young. I had a whole life to live. My mother needs me, I’m her only son. Please help me! Akash’s eyes started welling up with tears he never thought he could cry because he didn’t even have a real body anymore. He thought about how much he wanted to go back to his stupid average life. It suddenly meant more to him than anything else in the world. His mother, his friends, his daily trips to Churchgate and back on a train, and his amazingly mundane existence suddenly seemed to have a whole new meaning. Oh crap! This can’t be true…" he continued to moan feeling completely helpless and distraught.

And then he met Shivji’s deep intense and boring stare, as he was chewing on what may have been a piece of betel nut. And the academy award goes to… Shivji said in a loud rising stage voice that suddenly dropped to a whisper when he chided Drama Queen.

Stop FOMOing. You’re not dead. You are just having what you Earthlings call an out-of-body experience. Ever heard of that? Akash was too overwhelmed. So, he was not dead. All this tension was driving him to his wit’s end. He had no idea what he had done to get him here. "So how did I get here, Shivji?" He managed to muster up the courage to ask.

"So, here’s what happened. You jumped into a wormhole, think of it as a neat little crack in the time-space continuum when you ran through the Gateway of India and leapt out of the chains into the jetty in Colaba. You landed on a ferry, hit your head and almost died, but did not actually die. You’re just having what’s called a near death experience. You were screaming for your life. But you uttered with utmost passion and belief the words Har! Har! Mahadev! It was so passionate and intense that I had to come and protect you when you asked for my help in that way. It moved me. I saved you. So, your dead ass body is lying in that boat, but you are here in soul form transcended to this let’s just call it – soul world. You can choose to go back into your body any time you wish. It was a very rare coincidence that happened to you. Almost one in a million years, when such a thing happens."

Hearing those words from Shivji, was like music to Akash’s ears. That he was overjoyed, was the understatement of the decade. He had his body so he could go back to living his life again! "Thank you, Shivji, he gushed. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your help. I’m obliged for life. I will go to a Shiv Mandir, every Monday, no sorry every day forever. Pakka."

That would be completely unnecessary, but you are indeed most welcome, said Shivji as he started to walk away towards a colourful creature that showed itself in the snow at a distance. The creature too was moving. As it drew nearer Akash recognised the famous bull. Nandi Bull sauntered towards its master and sat down exactly in between Akash and Shivji. Akash was reminded of and now clearly understood why his mother would address him as ‘Nandi Bail’ every time he came between her and the television set when she was watching her favourite soap opera where someone was invariably echoing ‘Factory mein aag lag gayi’ three times over.

Nandi was a most beautiful creature with a colourful ornament hanging between his horns and a large brass bell tinkling as he turned his head and stared towards the nothingness in the north. There was infinite innocence in his eyes, prompting Akash to stroke Nandi’s forehead gently, over which someone had thumbed a fresh brush of vermillion. Shivji gently caressed the bull with his icy blue fingers and grabbed up a little bag that Nandi carried on its saddle.

What do you feed him, in this snowy mountain? Shivji gave him a dead cold stare. Alright, that’s it. I don’t have the time for your Earthling conversations about your dog, and my cats and the weather. Nandi is not a coffee table conversation piece. Nandi come on, let’s go. TTYL, pal. Shivji herded Nandi up the snowy cliff at a fast and practised clip. As he climbed effortlessly, he was whistling softly to the tune of Jai Jai Shiv Shankar the Rajesh Khanna hit from the seventies. This Shivji was way too cool, thought Akash. It looked like he was following Bollywood songs made about him and weed. His quiet attitude made him such a man’s man in Akash’s head. So masculine and yet not chest beating macho. But he could as easily be the complete ladies’ man too, thought Akash. Sorry, should I be saying ladies’ God? Either way, it was so super easy to be a Shiv-Bhakt.

Akash continued to follow them stumbling his way through the deep snow. He didn’t really want to be a pile-on. But the magnetic pull would not let him leave Shivji’s wake. It was no wonder that millions flocked to Kedarnath and other temples for one glance of Him. Also, no wonder that millions of single girls like the thirty-five-year-old Kashmira in the neighbourhood went to a Shiv Mandir every Monday in the hope that they would find a human, anything like Him. But obviously, Kashmira had no idea what the real deal was. And she would never believe Akash had actually met with him.

"Shivji! Shivji! He called panting and puffing his way uphill. Can you give me like an autograph or something to prove I’ve met with you, a selfie would be great?" Shivji threw up his empty hands and said Sorry, this is soul-level land – the Soulosphere. We don’t do pens and paper here, and definitely, no cell phones are allowed. Nothing from the world of matter works here, kiddo. You are in the spirit land. He grinned a bright naughty TV anchor grin.

Now that Akash knew he could go back to his body anytime he just did not want to leave this strange place anymore. It was so immensely blissful here. Wait. It’s not like you can go to your body anytime, pal. You can only go back to your body until it physically exists, came the punchy response to his thought wave with that hint of a smile that was always at the edge of Shivji’s lip. If someone finds your dead body which is what it is right now with you here, and ships it to your mom, Shivji continued You’re literally going to be toast in a matter of hours. Then there is no going back, my friend.

Akash jumped out of his bliss bubble. Oh no! How do I make sure no one finds my body? And he quickly realised there was no answer to that, as Shivji continued to march ahead and ignored his question while rubbing vibhuti ash across his upper arms. He had to quickly think up something.

"Here’s what I can do for you baccha party. I’ll grant you a wish. Deal? Just one wish. That’s it. No second chances. Make your wish and make yourself scarce. Are we clear? Will that make you go away?"

Sure, of course, Akash totally lapped it up. Getting a wish and then getting back to Earth. This was all starting to sound like those magical stories in his Dad’s dusty Amar Chitra Katha collection that helped to hold up his rickety bed. And he started thinking about the wish with a twinkle in his eyes. Imagine a life with no pimples, he thought. Wow, he would be free of those nasty zits forever and no more early morning nightmare break out when he carefully examined the contours of his cheek every morning. Shivji was shaking his head and clicking his tongue. Dude, have you heard of a thing called ambition? O-M-G. Your super-big picture thinking has got to be a lesson to us all!

Akash was mortified. Shivji’s sarcasm was not lost on him. That’s why I was thinking it through, right? I have tons of ambition. And I want to change the world too. Like we obviously need more forest cover, and yes, I would like to put an end to all wars. But when he said that out loud, he felt like a Miss India at a beauty pageant stage event.

OK. Alright. I’ll admit it. I’m not big on saving the world or anything. But can I ask you a question?

You already did, pin cushion Shivji winked. That’s it. Now he was getting roasted by a God in his most blissful soul state for his very earthling pimple problems. But heck he was funny. Would have been funnier if the joke was someone else maybe. Go on, ask another one, said Shivji and he scooped out a little snake from his sling bag and started to wrap it coolly around his neck like he was casually draping a woollen scarf.

Akash tried to suppress a shudder. "In that