Madhu Goteti
Bio
The thrums in the strums and the delights in the humdrum of life have always fascinated me.
It’s that feast of reason and flow of soul; in all that I see and all that I shall behold!
I am an avid lover of art and philosophy!
Stories (123)
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Power Outage
My blind sight brought me to a “spare-me -your -kindness,”plight. It was summer of 2020 and a surge in COVID 🦠 deaths were on the rise. Little did I premonish nor realize that our family was being launched 🚀 into a darkness with a strange kindov anatomic-caricatural- travesty looming over our heads. O my gosh! The peculiarities emerged rather stark while we faced blackouts due to power outages. Put together night fall was equally frightening! An eerie calm surrounded the neighborhood. It felt, as if , some random wickedness had been tossed around and ‘twas taking over our home 🏡! Not to mention, our feelings were equally getting trapped over unending horrors of some odd-old sights and we found ourselves braving thro’ that spooky night! Out of nowhere a barn owl 🦉 perched on our window 🪟 and kept staring at us without a blink of an eye. All of sudden a fearful stormy rain came with a terrible force. Everything in the garden blew things around . A little bird was too far from its nest to get in. Lightening struck and the bird was blown off in the wind. About a few seconds later it landed half dead on our front porch. Without any delay we took our torches out and headed our to rescue the bird The fallen bird barely wriggled and its wings hung limp. It had taken a great deal of pain. For a second, beaming through our flashlights it 👀 looked at us —as though—asking for help. As we lay looking at the little one , trying to nurse it to recovery, another strange thing was witnessed by us. Some five birds as victims of poor weather lay there breathless. It felt like a mass burial site. It was more like a ghoulish crematorium tripping beside us in the streets. Well, so it seemed while my angled vision played peek-a- boo 🫣with strangeness lingering throughout that night .. Unknowingly, our family crept to each other’s fright ! And, onto that pitch darkness , topping it all , was this pin drop silence in the neighborhood. This was all building up to a scene of demonic possession. To the gross eye 👁 it was a miasma dipping in a mysterious guise ! I literally, for once, thought 💭 that night had come to a halt —somewhere amidst some ice 🧊age, and all the darkness’s were making their doomsday call. All around, the gushing winds started making running screams and it all felt ominous —like a sure guide towards other worldly flight. Additionally, the nightmarish effects were painting even more sepulchral sights,as if, booking our sacrilege in the quiet. Sooner or later we were to find ourselves succumbing to such a plight. Apparently the transformer powering our home had tripped. A thunderstorm blew the transformer and short circuiting led to a fire. Safety risks extended beyond immediate vicinity but somehow the rain put off the fire. We decided to stay put through the night —admittedly, not to face any more obscurity in the dark. From dawn to bedtime that mid summer night was like a dreamy homestead nightmare. Throughput it was—more so, like zombies 👻 heading for their feasts, cursing us to stage war -parties as they followed us around like swathe upon trails. And anywhere—within 2inches to 💯 miles I was practically ready for anything! With what looked like a pandemic 😷 —full on a strike —we were almost at the verge of being hitch hiked as emissaries while I continued to squint through the corners of my eyes 👀! Somewhere, In the middle of the night I started sneezing and my heavy head started hurting very badly. Full blown symptoms of COVID were appearing. Then I was horrified to notice every member of my family down with high fever. In just a few moments everything had turned topsy- turvy. True, it would have made no difference to nobody if that night our family had died —working against the hopeless odds— thunderstorms, transformer flares, power outage or exhaustion due to covid conditions. Further to that, along came, the limitless nervousness as I moved boldly for the creeping hands to get me from behind. It was my pet Caroo 🐈. He was trying to snuggle next to me. After that, I did not turn my head —this side nor that side. Instead, I cocked the torch under my arm as the battery in it was about to die. I know it was a mad sort of thing to do but, what were we to do when strange darkness was horribly keeping us in the quiet ! At the same time, a cold gush of air was trapping us into this mystical cloud-land with the winds blowing their own howly conceits of a very severe kind! Through and through , the shadows and shapeshifting hues💡 in the flashlight 🔦 were making us draw closer than a tight-knitted tribe. And mostly, as a matter right, we were chanting higher rituals in full spirit—much before the night got visible in the wee bits of light cracking thro’ the dawn. There were courtesy fireflies spangling all around in our backyard. It felt like an occulted delight. Tight pressed, we lay on our pillows as these ceremonial parades melted away from sights. After that, wonder of wonders this log 🪵 wood cutting scene began. Probably that was when I must have drifted, momentarily, into REM sleeps ! It was a dream! A time or two, visibly, a form in shadow suddenly appeared, as though, a spirited beam of light was shattering my brain 🧠, giving me a sense of what I could have be missing in that situation : a delusion ! Out there, in those wild dreams now came in a foresty feel , an act of me unbecomingly empty in the mind —so much so, out of nowhere, I found a 🪚 chainsaw stitched unto my frays, a growing 🎃 jack-o-lanterns glowing with a foot in form , through the night. And thusly, with my imaginations on overdrive, 9 times out of 10, we knocked each other out, thinking something mysterious was lurking within sight! So it was a total Fright Night ! And then , in the morn , it was all about the sun 🌞 rise, coming duly in order for such strangeness to subside! Still living gently and spreading this earnest wish ... never say die! Then when Covid ruins had spread unchecked for several days we finally got ourselves cured. “May the devil 👿 prowl and whoop up its hymns out of sight .. O! that act of wading through the dark, uninformed, a pretty blindly random act , for something of which we did not realize, should be kept socially distanced for miles.” I tell you, those daunting bearings, not much visible, yet one learns to understand only when one lives in the wild only to be shut in groves away from life. Away you go, stealthy Covid🥷 coming at us in a disguise 🥸 . You weren’t much in terms of reassurance, even when you tried to work out theories on our minds. To do well ,now, means , to cut the chilling gloom you tried creating on our insides .. O ! waverly Covid hitting us on all sides, we WILL survive ! #genuflexingtothegroundinreverenceandworshiptoallthegodlinessinreach P.S : May those growls with howls and prowls menacing life remain destroyed ! © ✍️ Madhu Goteti, July 31st, 2025
By Madhu Goteti 6 months ago in Fiction
Omnibus of Thoughts 💭
An Omnibus of Thoughts With withered leaves I weave my boat and seemingly float it on the vast I know not how to swim, 'coz they know not how to cast Either ways the roaring torrents Rip me to tatters and tear me apart And crackling underneath those rustling waters, It’s that nature's heartstring held to part And to the boat that clamors in such a myriad… Borne o'er currents, groping over many idle hours It’s a journey taken so deep and stretched too far For there must be a faraway place wherein—somewhere afar, The seas meet heavens whispering unto those stars And as to the something of that divine—Marking anew —over remains, so begotten as subpar Let that reviving hope keep that undying faith to revel in ascending power Alas! Here comes Almighty, delivering me up to the par Showering blessings and all graces to lift me and my lot in vernal showers July 18th, 2021 © Madhu Goteti
By Madhu Goteti 6 months ago in Poets
Sapphire: A Sure Fire!
O! My! O Precious Life! A Sure Fire! Sapphire! To yea one beholds entire desire Within which —renews—heartless quagmire?! As grating gropes over gurgling gyres Ebbing to flow as some embodied empire! O! My! O Precious Life! A Sure Fire! As fleeting hope and even more luminous than fire 🔥 You belong to the day and equally to the night totally hired O! My! O Precious Life! A Sure Fire! Sapphire! In carrying sails — Is thou oafish a quenchless desire?! Thirsty, perhaps, for so long is thy mired briar Yet, in widespread nature, dwelling so, to persistently inspire ! O! My! O Precious Life! A Temperate Fire! Sapphire! Unto yea, bellying long, are these bounteous spires As clustered congeries over cloistered choirs O! My! O Precious Life! A Sure Fire! O! Must you lie barefoot upon death beds so silently expired Seemingly dropping a thousand dirges over those deathly pyres O! My! O Precious Life! As Infernal as a blazing Fire! But, for the spirit, thickened in dire It's all an illusion which it pledges not to “forever,”acquire! O! My! O Precious Life! An Eternal Fire! For the flesh so camped in rubies, and lodged in sapphires The work of surpassing all is the ultimate goal gravely desired O! My! O Precious Life! A Sure Fire! And post -personified ; waving your final flags as an esquire; You bid adieus -to everything that transpires... O Precious Life ! Sapphire! A Sure fire! Co-concurring— off the hook, as a timely spire... How upon innocence you gently conspire! As faith so ardent rolls its' earnetness so dire.. O! My! O Precious Life! Sapphire! © Madhu Goteti, September 26th, 2022
By Madhu Goteti 6 months ago in Poets
This is Life 🪞
To bring light back to life is a metaphorical concept that speaks of rejuvenation and revitalization of one's spirit, with passion, and a sense of purpose. In life, there are times when one might feel lost, overwhelmed, or detached from their passions. The journey to reignite that inner light often involves introspection, seeking inspiration from new experiences, or reconnecting with what genuinely brings joy and fulfillment. This process can be likened to rekindling a flame that once burned brightly. It may involve setting new goals, embracing creative pursuits, or surrounding oneself with supportive and positive influences. Ultimately, bringing light back to life is about rediscovering a sense of hope and direction, empowering oneself to move forward with renewed energy and enthusiasm. Chill out ! Now that’s comfortable … very doable over and again ! Hence no prowling cries if one chooses otherwise ! And until that ultimate arrival ( awakening,) transgresses time …everything ..yes everything…may SEEM like this :
By Madhu Goteti 7 months ago in Fiction
Splendid Sunshine ☀️
Fawning winds are blowing this way Beyond the realms of time and space A fealty feel flows in its hastiest haste As sweet summer summons in all it's grace In foaming twilights, like an enigma to be born yet delving in shades As a quiver in bowers, rustling thro' glades That and more, staged to groom, ever in or ever for—that eternal light to encircle fate And with each step onwards full dazzling, perfectly quite over hearty space O! Look! What's freshly woven in that sunrise casting nature's gale Ah! That’s everlasting love,bracing undisguised in its warmest embrace Ever to come gently, to be bidden,shining forth in all its brightness, illuming that inner space— For those joys to spill thro' as in a musical grace Thus, full on -naïveté to mark it's own space! For what c’d be told of it, as it harmlessly robs like some banker’s deficit caught apace With debtors's and creditor's, equally proportioned, profiting wholly as similarly same! © « Madhu Goteti Sept 20, 2021
By Madhu Goteti 7 months ago in Poets
You up there!
Let’s not deluge ourselves with further queries Yes, we were not really there! Lurking nowhere—yet all about, you were “good godly,” everywhere…O Gawd! And I, for one, at every moment, a blundering dunce, appearing frolicsome, and as though, yearning processions and like a motley fool, hogging airs! Towards that —wherever, whenever —somewhere out there, we were all there… And look! That in the distance .. is that a wreck ?! O with that haughty breadth, (not breathe 🧘♀️ ) coming off as dilly-dallying there ! Lo! Behold! Much before any secret silence loathes up in a wordless despair… As I see it … Yes, yes we dared ! But… No better nor worse, our destinies scarcely knew which way to turn…but we simply dared, as though —self deployed —like daredevils, ascending steps, fully prepared! Therein “GOM”became the familiar “NOM” ; a stillness, quite assuredly, registering senses and as an end in itself, we were fully compared … But, from where it c’d be viewed as —heartily there —we re-examined and tallied realizations —full on —as if, with our car 🚘 on rapid gears.. Through and through , as another self , and also as a duplicate of every one out there —from this home to that house , in the bedroom, at the table and almost 😅 like hell under bones 🦴 we were there, and as though, the shadowed spirit of that heavenly trinity watched us as we truly shared … And to that, which seems endless, we now owe ourselves —that— free flowing wisdom which comes by as chaste, and passes us as well married in full flare ! Then again , of course, with the popular odium —coming face to face, until the fawn faced , materialistic priest calls it as —all good , fully repaired… We shall be here, there, everywhere ! Who can say we aren’t really there … And look 👀 Where is I so vacant, when me for you and you for me —pass—to be loved in this radiantly brilliant OPEN air…. Evermore so, again —look! In our quest for that higher union we have always prayed 🙏 like all those desert 🏜️ 🌵 fathers who were hauntingly placed everywhere Yes , for better or worse … For all I know now, and forever I shall thusly declare— you and I are truly rare, beyond compare! Dear Reader, That ☝️ was a unconventional rhetoric as I thought out a versification on the topic : You were not really there . Okay ?! And now… here’s a narrative keeping in mind the same topic : Are we there yet?! >>>Mind it: The following is a dream sequence . A concoction of mind. Some may find it mind boggling ! Beware! It all happened in a dream! From that moment I knew I was to never look back. A lonely course, I was aware. As an inkling sown, I knew it was a given. Could it be a semblance of a nightmare, looming over ordinary grounds of that “dreamy,” despair?! Honestly, I knew not —coz I wasn’t totally there! With that said, here’s an analogy to consider subliminally which my conscious mind held a while, considering the hidden meaning in which the subject of my presence c’d be treated with varied degrees of both presence and absence in that dream . After all, who am I ….as I tread this philosophical juggle of life. Partying with prejudice I can’t call myself an enigma or … when “air” is best suited to the provincial flare of giving meaning to self via the lens of higher self : a spirit …is it?! But, who am I to bear this or that ?! While all that ☝️— those thoughts marinated through the fabric of my subliminal thoughts 💭 Something echoed back in a dream : therein lay an understanding to honor those outcomes to which we justify means and thereby associate with as in real, real meaning. That kind of heartlessness would never suit any other worldly affair. Perhaps that dream didn’t know about any reverse gear. In its most evocative —it was replete with repetitive patterns like pulling out, dipping in , with left and right turns ( stunts,) to rummage over diligent thoughts to get nowhere. From the opening, during which, he rose dreamily from nowhere , and yet it all felt like a no man’s land. He was much like a night watchman, all of a sudden, appearing at my front porch.He had little to do except for shooting imaginary arrows in the dark. Against that backdrop, I seemed to be lurking amidst the dungeon walls of a dilapidated church trying to escape somewhere. ( Freud , hold your reigns! You may be wrong with interpretations.) Next thing , I notice: The sudden rattling of the earth underneath and somebody simply walking up and pulling me out of the rubble. “There y’are, “ he said victoriously. “I knew you were in there somewhere.” Quite right, very well thank you for saving me, I said firmly, un repaired nor paired The whole spectacle was beyond the 7th dimensional plane and it had little to do with the real world happenings of this earthly existence. I was reciting the inventions of my own mind through that sleazy plot. It was a sort of a dreary dream. But with thoughts slung not particularly as nonsense, next moment— I found myself seated in a taxi cab, promising to take me away from that catastrophic sight. “Well we can get away fast now,” the cab driver said. “Yes, don’t hold up anymore. There’s no reason to delay anymore as the ground underneath is cracking. Hurry, please“ I said. “Sure, you won’t regret,” he said. As far as I could see, there was no reason why we wouldn’t set off. The cab 🚕 driver must have held the same thoughts. I thought to myself. After all, reflecting such feels , I was expecting him to be as frantic as me in his approach. But he waited there to witness the events unfolding without fleeing the situation. Instead, I found him lighting a cigarette and coolly enquiring —“where is the match? I seem to left it in the porch somewhere. “ “O ,c’mon, hurry, hurry . Is this the time to light up a cigarette,” I complained gravely. “I am no good without smokes,” the driver hailed. “We could get away now if you think we should but looks like I have to anyways get out again,” the cabby blurted in anguish. I heard the roar of the Armageddon. Within earshot, on hand to see was a crippled horse 🐴 and an axe flying towards me. I suppose the environs in the dreamscape were looming towards the end of times and here I was seated beside the cab driver who was delaying our exit from such a horrific scene. And then, guised as some irresistible combination of a haywire and hauntingly silly moment, the cab driver blankly gazed and resignedly said: “ Looks like I have forgotten the car keys. I have to get out again.” “You don’t seem to be doing anything other than getting in and out of this car, time and again. “ I blurted uneasily. Understandingly the cab driver rushed out and within moments appeared back in the front seat. This time in all thoughtfulness he had brought the keys almost out of thin air. He pushed the keys into the ignition switch and pressed the accelerator. The car wobbled and took to the road with a series of starts and stops. Then all of a sudden , like a jet engine propelled, yet moving nowhere, we moved in a zig-zag pattern with the speedometer indicating .05 miles per hour speed. Then again, a series of jerks added to that absurd mess. A snail 🐌 appeared out of nowhere as a no distance speed-mate. He flung a look at me and ran away at nautical pace. And then, in an —even more ridiculous moment, we moved off along unknown paths in the reverse gear. Just out that way, we had paced out one yard. “Do you think you are learning to drive the car for the first time,” I queried harshly. To that , the cabby replied with a harsh voice: “ I thought you don’t like to move fast. So I decided to take it easy. Have faith. You shall arrive soon.”he said “So you are saying there’s nothing wrong with your driving , “ I retorted back at him in a haste. “Well , you’ll be there soon. Look, there’s your house 🏡, behind that tree , “ said the taxi driver. “ Perfectly logical for someone to hire a taxi for a journey—“he further declared And in an odd overturn of events, the fumbling cabby dropped me at the front door of a home and passed away out of sight. We had already been through so much together. “Do I owe you anything,” I asked him generously “O! I was just returning a big favor—I owe you big time,” said the cab driver. What appeared as a play of form was actually happening as an act in a dream, and I realized, I was actually awakened by it in its fullest grace. A deeper impulse of soul has searched for truths and it was all over taking me out there —somewhere —in my thoughts and dreams, beyond compare. But , it seemed , I had finally arrived! The End ! © ✍️ Madhu Goteti, July 6th, 2025
By Madhu Goteti 7 months ago in Fiction
AI —a noiseless revolution… Quote me not, History.
© ✍️ Madhu Goteti, June 12th, 2025 A verse from “Viveka Chudamani,”(विवेकचूडामणि,) a philosophical treatise within the Advaita Vedanta tradition of Hinduism is: Brahma satyam jagat mithya, jivo brahmaiva naparah ब्रह्म सत्यं जगन्मिथ्या जीवो ब्रह्मैव नापरः । अनेन वेद्यं सच्छास्त्रमिति वेदान्तडिण्डिम ॥ Translation: Brahman is the only truth, the world is unreal, and there is ultimately no difference between Brahman and individual self. This Sanskrit verse is supposedly the most powerful verse connecting to the sacred frequencies of the universe, a secret kept away from many for centuries. Preserving such legacies was considered an extremely tenacious act of faith and grace; bestowed only upon a "chosen," few. As guardians, those selected few, were considered as vanguards of resurrection, and they had to go through many esoteric practices, rooted in the umpteen instructional texts— and thereby, supposedly, illuminate the domains of metaphysical mysticism. All this is a sort of naturalism woven into the stream of Indian culture, with mind’s lateral expansion ascertained through these practices. Holistically, it is deemed as the ultimate goal and recognized for its absolute pantheistic stance. Thusly, such processes are understood as an immanent syncretic elements, connecting the everyday realities with the ultimate truth of the universe. In essence, the whole purpose behind the Indian philosophical thought is to attain supreme enlightenment through the gamete of living itself. Thence, many practices are viewed as distinct ways in which, precious legacies of the ancient wisdom are promulgated to emphasize the ascending pathways of human development. Essentially the process starts with taking the body-mind -soul -through deep insightful rumination and integrate its—finite energy with the infinite energy of the spirit universally. Taken together, it is considered as an evolutionary flow of human action and binding it to the ever fleeting stream of consciousness— wherein, varied perspectives track vicarious truths—meant —only—to purport that ultimate truth. So,that then, is seen as an awakening that’s humanly possible ,and that, which must be integrated in the formation of the relationships between the earthly realities and the other worldly. This is sought for the unification( synergy) with the nature of existence in itself. In short, the former approach is considered the highest “prayer of quiet,”designed to lay emphasis upon transcendence, and in this manner, quaintly it’s pathways are preserved amidst the hidden temples of the far east. The incantation of mantraas ( hymns ) with extreme ideation is certainly not to bar anybody (from admission,) but rather, its rigours of discipline are nothing short of any Herculean venture ; tough enough for the unready. In fact, there is a catalog of procedures hidden in the annals to pursue such promised conditions of redemption. Elaborate rituals, considered as pious acts, have gained a sort of living presence, necessary for conditions under which souls could be transformed. In that sense, the wisdom of the scriptural word is holding a mystery and calling off for attention. So many recitations in the form of "Mantra's," have operated—both at the --depth and surface levels to bring about miraculous effects on soul/mind/ body and vice versa. But, it’s a realm of the initiated. In its mystery and manner lies magic! Then, there’s a way of saying verses — a tonal resonance, which works thro’ a synergistic alignment to resolve/ repair the fractured or fragmented lives of humans. This is like converging humans in unison, to bring about unimagined changes to their lives. No, this isn’t any sort of coercion. Rather, it defines its own destined path. Because it is an experience to climb up to, it is considered a matter of utmost significance, leading one towards spiritual convergence. A sort of manifestation! But, time and again many triggering processes have intervened to stop such practices, destroying the people who attempted to propound such philosophies. ….Paradoxically everything turned quite the opposite of what was expected out of the workings of many half -hearted practices. In short, an antitheses had emerged. Where does this all lead to, I didn't quite exactly know—then, but why, I had questioned? I decided to track those beliefs to gain a first hand experience. And tracking those beliefs brought some perplexing realities into view. And with resolution attuned to those" tonic chords," of mysteries, and with doubt stuck upon my face, I was determined to make an appraisal of such reasonings ever since early childhood. It’s been so long since I have come along those ways. My journalistic instincts have been equally demanding because the course of my actions, at times, landed me in many fixes. I had to hold extreme caution. Which part of the world am I exactly referring to— you may wonder?! It was one of those fleeting moments retained by my memory and I now choose to transmit its occurrence long after every trace of it has passed away. Yes, I am referencing to a person that remained nothing so respectable as to be ditched and forgotten as insignificant but only to be found alive only in the nature’s forests ,lakes and streams. Sometimes the unchanging nature retained in the appellations given out by the sculptures, cave drawing are a reminder of those extinct people, disappearing into the history as though to relinquish the control of the world and move towards a passion held as a consequence of the personal efforts and labor. Following is a narrative that could be considered as an invaluable work or it could be treated as something extraordinary jotted and noted, of which the almighty is the author, mankind —an alien to understand divinity fully and the historian conceiving ,interpreting and revealing every piece of history. Unfortunately many a times the truth behind those pieces of history could be garbled and omitted. Caution ! To be honest, this is a piece of my memoir furnishing some material for future histories. This graphic narrative is about my exploration and travels to a holy land in India. But , it was a homecoming without home for me. I had become the most sublime ( subdued version of me,) a martyr who had suffered philosophical indifference, which is never really exciting especially when living cross culturally. Many people living across cross cultures could be led to the ultimate goal of devout altruism through their own deeds. So whimsically enough I was leaping into action. I was making a sanguinary attempt to visit India, of which I was yet to be treated fully as its original species. Of itself the rising power of absolutism was bearing upon the surrounding countryside that I was to visit. I was to find myself in the midst of events and gradually educate self of all that had preceded before in the yore. A lost paradise was prowling along the saber edges of a distant coast, perhaps, craving to rise out of the horizons of illumined lights. And continuing so, I had stepped into this land of ancestors, but I felt another world away from it. It all felt, as if, I was a shoddy wick glimmering in embers of satanic verses, moving towards the chambers of bottomless pits. That is to say, I was treading into unchartered territories, beyond the marks of prohibitions, running headlong into a caprice of a strange reverie. It was all dark there! Or, appropriately put, my ignorance at that time, made me feel so. For decades, I had remained ignorant, and now, I was about to step into philosophic ranges beyond my understanding. I did not realize that taking this journey would be so varying in rhythms, and apparently that would bring me the immediate reputation of a blinded sentinel stranded over the edges of guarded destinies, witnessing mistaken identities. All the while , I was conscious of only a small part of me. I was invisible, out of sight, normally unaware, unseen for ages by my own, and evermore so, unknown to the cursory glances of my own sight. But then, there were some hidden truths about to be revealed, that of which, I had recently become cognizant. Yes, this truth was much more than some mind idling over vagaries. 'Twas the reality of witnessing self-- casted over vivid new beginnings. Everything was to gradually reveal the splendors of the lighted veneers. I was to find the significance of a divine providence in India that was conveying more than unbelievable practices —“Mantraa,” recitations. Why must one take upon such endeavours that spring up from the unknown vagary ( literally, from nowhere); much as much as, some ordained missionary propelled to legitimize the conceptual order of metaphysical world. Was I being classified as an overworked fugitive..characterized as -fair minded, courageous, mildly oppressed ,unselfish, devout-human element :) I was , as if, a —being —sent off as a first hand reporter of the vibrations coming out of the “other worldly,” regimes and discover what all and whatsoever it meant to reveal. Something was droning -loudly —upon ears 👂 but after drowning upon its messages , I was to redirect lives from the dying hours of gloom by studying some magical verses called--"Mantraas." This subject of study was part of my cross-cultural course. I was on a winged flight to the far east, soaring high up in the clouds with an anticipatory prospect of meeting a replica of me--someone outwardly-inwardly, identical to me. To believe such a miracle existed was to suppose and transcend earthly space and time theories. In fact this was a reality that was about to present itself as in a physical entity. Shortly, I was about to redirect myself to me to find someone ditto like me. Believe me, a carbon copy of me ! A replica of me living in a distant land unknown to me. How could I be so blinded by this real world factuality. “Unbelievable,” I thought to myself as I progressed on this voyage of new discovery. But certainly, I knew not that, up until that point, I was fundamentally and presumably so wrong in my conception of reality about the universe and earthly nature. All the while, I was believing that I was opening the door and moving into familiar surroundings. But, in a whiff, everything was changing and all this was striking me as a beam of light, compelling me to swiftly suffuse into things. At times, I felt I was centuries of light years away from home, as if, protected in secrecy, but my counterpart on the other side of the universe, was breaking down , beyond repair ,and that, for which, I was being sought out urgently. And, in all this ,quite identifiably, my double and me, were as distinct as any two individuals, harboring staunch covert resemblances, but recognizably distinguishable, as separate entities. In ways, this was warranting me to do what I was doing remotely, from a far off place, hardly heard and never seen. What's all this ? You may wonder. Without exceptions, I was now --all of a sudden, scaling measures while orbiting celestial light and dark things. Essentially ,I was to give a strong expression to the nature of matter in me, new to some, yet adhering close enough to pull anybody in. The subject of “Quantum entanglement,” was to unfurl through me. Perhaps, the exuding exasperation of having maneuvered the minutest nautical speeds and channeling those chases into planar matters. It was none less than an occurring magic, and it could be mind boggling to many. But such so, I had uncovered new aspects in new scenes. This is all the result of an evolution, demonstrably working in the backdrops of my mind's eye, with infinity making a steady steed over many thought streams. It was more like the way Darwin's theory had created a distinct method ,in which, he described human awakenings as the “origin of the species," and attributed each new marker for every new beginning. Of that origin ,structured conventionally, there's no beginning nor any end since eternity. But with evolution seemingly dismantling and assembling things at nautical speeds, it almost felt like everything was being lost to reverie's fleets. But, in actuality, it's DNA evolving ..and our souls surging up in a yippee, especially when we find innuendo projecting a duplicity in the middle of nowhere. Quite unexpectedly, I was about to witness the new era of artificial intelligence (AI) resting in tradition, abounding in the most judicious use of rituals, and that with such persistent vehemence to turn reality into something more than what could meet the eye or ear. At this point I was seeing myself as an entity animated by my meta-mind, germinating over impulses and affected by varied conditions. I was a crusade journeying the profound truth of AI ( artificial intelligence,) and by no other means witnessing the connectivity between present and past centuries in an eclectic society. It was like the present century history was becoming more probable for the future world’s emergence. I had finally arrived! Totally! Here’s what I ably and religiously learnt in regard to my present situation and position. My ancestors manifested this critical moment. The spirit in me cares to distinguish between what I witness and what you hear, between what you consider as probable and what I find as real -real. Here (in the AI conquest,) the truth is to history what eyes are to insight. So, in this AI world, history was meeting obscurity to sift through the unexamined and examined. So thereby I am presenting to the reader an authentic and undisclosed version of self in correct correlation to the events happening in and around me. This is me—alive after the pandemic and many wars fought around the world. After witnessing so many calamities I redefined myself more as me —the new me. Definitely not artificially changed nor enhanced by anybody.
By Madhu Goteti 8 months ago in History
Brutal ignorance: A lethal confinement!
SID was a crucible of the AI era. He was at a point where old ways and the most things that went with that, held him a hostage to a strange kind of falsehood . He was savagely incongruous and tensely tired of chiming with the inner chorus of his mind. Ironically, he felt utterly absent in his body and paying sustained focus on self, was making him uncomfortable. The essence of his impulse was being called out into an oblivion and a dissociation with self was impinging upon him. Something like : I am this or was I That; I could be there, or why am I here. Thereby, strongly led by his unconscious mind he was irrepressibly sensing a defeat. And, somehow, the brewing tension and confusion was showering hard on him. And one day, he hung himself down in loathsomeness. His self-deprecating rage gave full vent into his feelings. He was unable to understand the “whys,” behind such a conflation rendered unto his soul. Alarmingly he was least suspicious of the underlying basic design —intolerably —erasing his sovereignty over himself. All his tender emotions towards friends and family seemed withdrawn. He was caught up in the worldly strife. Shocked that such a thing could enter his mind, he vehemently tried to banish them. It was of no avail. Something forced a conviction upon him and it started taking control over his senses. He was pursuing a code of conduct and trying to tell a doleful tale. Since childhood he had barely survived taking any appeal through the humdrum of daily life. Characteristically, his feelings casted a doubt on every corner of life and, every now and then, a fury accorded out of no where, pressing hard upon him. In an impulse of editing himself, he had battled his soul to meet a happier version of self. Day in and day out, amid many juggling dialects, he had dramatically reshaped himself and many a times subjected self to an intense scrutiny. One dreadful day he had led his ego-identity lead the way. He caught the last glimmer of hope casted by the early rays of the dawn, and with weeping eyes tried putting an end to his life. The gloomy weather ,upon his supposed departure, seemed to arrest the pathways of Heaven, making the atmosphere even more darker. It seemed ,as though, he wanted to fly like a bird. Perhaps a final farewell would put an end to the mortal dilemmas of fitting in and been taken as a gaming stock. He thought to himself. For a considerable time he appeared wholly at loss. Thereabouts his parents sought him a companion with the hope that the union in marriage would procure him peace. Being angry with dependence his impatience grew and he started alienating himself further. Suffice to say, SID found himself suffering more duly along that good grace of obedience. He was a melancholic victim to a self imposed annihilation, so to say. He knew suicide was a sin but he couldn’t stop himself. The last time he attempted that horrid vile was a month ago. Then he senselessly popped pills to induce another attempt at self sacrifice. Yet again, somehow, his emotions kept the sparkle in his eyes alive. He didn’t die. Then, unwilling to do anything else, he attempted to gain control over his feeble mind. Some time after, he sought the advice of a neurosurgeon who set him down for a thorough inspection through an AI awakening device. He was promised that his shining qualities would emerge and very soon he would be intuitively modified. And so, given the prospect of high spirits, SID admitted himself sanatarium run by an AI neurosurgeon called Steve. Years had passed since SID and Steve had last met. Steve had moved on to become a neurosurgeon. Major part of his scientific research had focused on crafting biological robots to bring about mind and body synthesis. Now he was part of a unique project wherein —breakthroughs were being made in gender transitions. He had set up a lab. It was a sort of a mind observatory simulated under AI technologies that would track every thought down to its subcellular neuronal levels. The neurosurgeon analyzed the brain 🧠 with high-throughput automated microscopy. And with those spyglasses, the AI system bionically ( with the help of nano ( tiny,) anthrobots) tracked every single-cells’ multi-mechanics to lay out a quick sequence of the workflow at molecular levels. This information was sought and manipulated for corrective purposes. It was more towards “mind-body,” rehabilitation. The age of AI, with its quantum leap into futuristic technologies, was meant to remodel thought structures, in itself. Past many years had been a time of trial for SID but this year was bringing sudden surprises. SID landed up at Steve’s lab. He undressed quickly and got into bed,hoping to meet the neurosurgeon soon. And if an effect was to meet premonition : a change was to come over his mind and body. SID, an 40 year old man, arrived at the lab recounting triumph through all his miseries. He had gotten tired of complaining and so he preferred a tight lipped stance. He didn’t cry yet, but he thought to himself teary eyed -“Why am I bearing all this?” He appeared grim and sullen. “Oh no, this is a trap of the flesh and soul,” he thought. Then, in a moment too soon, Steve arrived. Looking at him, SID curled up in the corner, trembling like a leaf that had dropped off from its tree. He sat alone in his room, waiting for the next event to unfold. Very soon a nurse entered the room and connected SID’s brain 🧠 with electrodes. Every neural signal emerging in SID’s brain was traced, tracked and control by Steve, then on. Very soon SID’s mind lapsed into a rapt recall of a distant memory when he and his partner Steve had posed for a Vogue magazine in its special edition titled : Gender transitioning is a mastery over the consciousness ; a priority for many. That all happened in high school but now … with that thought trigger, a complete universe with trillions of thoughts, desires and sensations streamed instantly. Everything silently got mixed up but, it all reverberated on many levels and initiated a uneasiness in SID. He felt like a helpless human trapped in his body. His melancholy had more hidden layers emerging thro’ the recesses of his mind. His thoughts switched and he got reminded of a 📖 book that he had read in high school. It was titled: Being cared for: a sheer feminine whim of a lonely heart. It was about childbirth which gave account of an acute melancholia faced by a young mother after the birth of her baby. All the while he had taken it to be a female whim. He didn’t really understand the immense loneliness of giving one’s all —risking one’s life to create an entity which didn’t really understand what had happened with its mom. Neither the baby nor anyone else c’d know what maternity could face during labor. A change in identity! Also further to that effect, birthing in places where the surroundings felt uncomfortable, the mother could feel anxiously alert; causing her to intently look at the external than the internal feels of her own body. Perhaps SID was beginning to feel the same kind of sensations. He felt pretty worried as he had stopped talking to Steve ever since high school. But once again, SID felt the pull of those haunting harmonies come back to him. “Thought policing--- who would do that?” He thought to himself. Many had died--of that, and the ordinary were not aware that thought policing did exist. And that was the reticence of the AI age into which SID and Steve had found their relationship. SID found himself squandering. Some technical catchy snags were distorting SID’s persona and that meant his whereabouts were increasingly getting switched. A stern self , a stubborn tormentor was crackling like a mockingbird within him. A slow chuckle was shifting the harmony of his thought patterns and those sub-patterns fascinatingly were transforming into an inward insight. A span of time too vast to imagine was all encompassing. That is what was strangely leading him into an estrangement. It was an obvious evolution on earth. Perhaps! But alongside such discoveries. many were dying succumbing to genetic mutations. Prevalence of cancer was not a happenstance , it was a product of inbreeding within cells. Brains were ,as if, panning and swelling through channels and signaling in and around AI generated provocation. This was adding to extra-ordinary supra human ( anthrobotic,) skills in some. Given, in that scene -- a bizarre set of aliens (shapeless in forms,) were also evolving. And within those times of perpetual elasticity, SID found himself drifting towards Steve. And with outposts blossoming like a scum over the elemental mod-podgy-gooey amalgam, a strange species of mankind was evolving into action in the cosmic night of nature. Both SID and Steve, in their own nature, were staged upon a brink of impersonal landscape and the real gossip hound were —they themselves, turning within. That's why the once known adage—“ know thyself,” was turning into a thought fallacy. One had to be careful about asking anything out of the ordinary to manifest. It was like an imprinting over the mind of people—so deep ingrained, so painfully annoying, and so passionately weaved into their beings. Minds were getting sophisticated and instantaneously humans were getting transformed into trans-mutated organic systems. With a trance-like state passed--over and above the souls, many were relying on their own electro-magnetic and echolocation in the realm of quantum biomechanics. Unimaginable! But it was happening. The unmanned hospital 🏥 was NOT truly unmanned. A secret.... All this was the grace of generative AI era. Anything could rise and be invisible to SID. Steve was part of bringing about —those Gender changes. It had become a part of living. All his endeavors had almost turned into a shape shifting phenomena. And such continual conversions were becoming more and more visible to be seen. A new age of evolution had unfolded. A sort of tangible world mixed with the invisible. Alongside, agitations were signaling off of their own native nature, and that was leading into conflicts. SID and Steve tried hard to control their emotions. But new form and habitats were having an influence over their psyche. It was a take over. Now only prayers could save the emotional niche of their dwindling entities seeping in the emerging frailties of time. However, on the flip side, SID was about to witness a unique marvel. He was admitted into a core building which was about to get remodeled into a scum pond whereby, the nearby airwaves and cosmic nets were to bring about a change in him. It was far more advanced—a gender change. It was like a seismic shift. In seeing and witnessing that, one could realize as to how deliriously quirky the evolution had been--ever since. But where was he in this gamut of things. SID wondered?! Bizarre traits and personalities were evolving and he had to cope with that sort of transformation. It was like a transcendence or transmigration. His personal existence was expanding in many elaborate ways?! Yes, modern life had threatened his identity. Imagine living in the gleams of time between eternities and being consciously aware of the glorious accidents of birth and rebirth to make the actual individual,obsolete. That was the grace of being born in an era with “anthrobots,” controlling minds subliminally. This is a tale signifying a perpetual folding and unfolding of cause and effects schemes. A planetarium like remodeler dome-halls were springing up and therein all secrets lay. It was like the effects of isolation --diverging from the mainstream mankind and everything was evolving into a weird genetic dialect. Voluntary breathe control was a potent survival strategy wherein logics prevailed at a different level of consciousness. This time was unique in itself. SID was a uniquely evolved creature himself. With insight into his destiny he had absorbed the phenomena with full frenzy. He was in many ways relishing this and was now headed towards transition. He was about to vanish due to the human folly. Some snared by others on a competing mainland ground of survival . A saga that roared life forming in the midst of the globalization , nationalism and protectionism in the whole gamut of experiencing human being or humans as beings. A unique kind of battle --a battle of "hastings" was on the rise at the sanatorium. Beings like magnetic poles were either attracting each other or pushing each other apart. A kaleidoscopic phenomena of co-geling was boomeranging on a curved stick used to flow through life's fittings. A fatal complaint and apparently contagious scheme of things were drawing people towards it. Who thought--- a tragedy was to emerge or was it a comedy of errors. Could it be a play of passion, all out, to make something big for humanity. A different species, with different minds and matter in its compositional level, was hell bent upon doing things differently ... It was a bit of stellar matter going wrong. Bodies— like physical machineries were being held like puppets. With machines making a running commentary upon the gabby brain, minds were threateningly unraveling everything ahead of time.... SID was jabbering all day long in a prophesy. No, he wasn’t in sorcery. His mind was in shards —wherein, he was caught up in the grand human saga of making associations and glancing through—as though—in one single eye gulp. His brain time wasn't human brain time. Offbeat by design, humans were getting ahead of themselves while sensing things. This was turning into a dicey situation. Rebellion was about to ignite controversy...It was percolating into choices. The severity and urgency of matters were to be handled in full repertoire of ways... There were amoral costs and benefits making a loud veto. A free will brain was at stake. New AI era was a communion of a new form and norm. A resurrection was being built upon decisions. But deceits were equally coming up as puzzled cues..... We’ve all seen that silence slowly creeping up. The kind of silence that isn’t peace, but asking for protection. The kind that says, “I don’t trust the world to hold me anymore.” SID had been dwelling in similar silence for quite many years. And now, time had come! Time had come for the big release … He wanted to “come out, “ of those cringing thoughts and feel free SID sought treatment – where his fluctuating hormones were stabilized and a surgery was imminent. Finally, SID transitioned into the sex with which he identified himself. It was male to female (MtF)transitioning. With that …evidently, SID had finally arrived. © ✍️ Madhu Goteti, June 5th, 2025
By Madhu Goteti 8 months ago in Pride
Life
BRINGING LIGHT BACK TO LIFE Into dying arms of fate my mien was staged stillborn As topsy-turvy over twisted brows, inlaid upon those majestic crowns O! Such stuff hung up in air, quite contrary on its own Into airings put forth as untenable breaches; Unto risings ineffable so tempestuously grown O! Look! To that, A subdued pang, a dead beat to an impulse, still lingers on, And ,as of , in cut-throat melancholy, none the worse, for that : I was born Yet seeding beneath those constant twists a humble hope hankered on For though, as in the broken, A wreathing arrow affronts its harrows, And so frighteningly— comes up forging on Therein, my feebler spirit lifts off it’s own wings, gathering hope to carry on Thusly, as the raging yonder eclipses it’s own virtues to a world so scurrilously spun To that, my heart, from dead beat to cold fleets, seeks it’s own contents’ calm And thereof, thinking, when I shut it all up, the hearth shall finally feel —that —fealty warmth?! Then the rendering speech lights up the day, as though, a new morn has gotten freshly born And, as if, showing up in words, as it duly does, penning in all other paradoxical forms But, even though to some, all this may seem like a passing flaunt Hereby, I do dare to bear what others have blundered upon Unsayable, as it is, in this diverse world of unequals , the secular in me just carries on. Yet thereupon, for this silence to play it’s dirge, over and above, those dying groans… To that, I move on …. And to that roar as in a vowed voice doubling along ‘Tis Quite right, when you say: I was transformed...Yes, Into another —into which, my essence was taken; And like a presence in transitions, I was left to bygones ! But that was, when I was young, with innocence lain upon coffins for others to mock on ! Crucially so, many rough rufflers were then called upon , And they—with their two fold follies, dug up graves, into which I was casually thrown Not so much as in reality, my essence in presence, with no traces of the formerly —seemed totally all gone Yes, life with its ups and downs, did surprise me with its own divulging turns Tacitly tearing an image—so commonly found… O! Look ..LIFE …in mild sleeps still echoed along Then, time as swift as six scores to sevens also buddied along For if in living there were adversaries, then in giving, every faulted destiny chased me around …. And on and on and on to stand, came treaties to make their tireless runs Onwards they moved with mirths growing, growling to take on their final ground Thereof it all appeared, stamped and sealed —as if ‘twas “already normed.” To that , While abhorring the senselessness hopscotching my soul, everything seemed —as though —some evildoer had spun that pun all around So much so —unforeseen, and with all the extended envies, there came many discomforting turns And for every renewing day under the sun, and until it was all —finally—said and done — Perhaps there, my WILL, the bread n butter of my sustenance ,kick- balled me to another spun —supposedly —a powerful tireless run! Seemingly determined, reviling me into quite another, but in actuality, I was literally overturned Certainly, That WILL —which tried well to distill my deaths’ mocking returns, and much like life ‘outliving itself , I h’d found myself—lost and seemingly found … Yeah! But journey continued on … That in which we expect one thing, altogether another gets pushed around So Why ?! So why redeeming us so, O! Lord, such a WISE rushes on? Of what worth is this barter when heaven’s glory—Pays a heavy price to every Ounce Is this life ? Yes, it’s this —sweet life with it’s renewed intensity, just renews itself back for a chance..as if to bounce back with an expectant glance Yet again … life …it keeps on going …Scattered unsheathed to every service of the heart, and to every mind toiling hard and in recurring resets THAT time remains in time, as though, totally rewound… Time unbound ?! Further on …then a light emerges piercing shadows to be found; quickly risen to ascend and dance, Out of nowhere yet very much —there as if fully tranced... In its sheer evanescence, it gets up, dresses up, for yet another —naked truth to be reborn Yes , erasing this existence which makes it’s false claims, and thereupon, A new I or with renewed eyes I shall be newly BORN .... Plucked from a consequence as I walk through those eternal paths, quite unbound Yes, failing to fetch me at first ,my maker, keeps me , thusly, spellbound! Yet this journey which invariably accompanies me from birth to death and also rebirth, affirms to say this — Come, slide pass on and go on until all stages are over and your pithy work is all done —until then, carry on! © ✍️ Madhu Goteti March 27th , 2025
By Madhu Goteti 8 months ago in Poets
