Tears Of Freedom - Short Story
“Helena, how long would you continue to suffer like this from the past?” Her friend asked. Helena said no words.
Her tears continued to flow out of her soul uncontrollably as they do every morning.
As she laid her head over her friend's shoulder, Helena could feel her mind drifting away into the past.
She can remember her body being used for prostitution at a young age, given to all these men she now sees in her dream almost every night.
I believe that nightmares are the cries of our innocent self asking for freedom, because it has never anticipated for the dream of the pain to last this long.
“Aisha!” Helena finally called out to her friend. “Yes my dear” Aisha replied with the usual hopeful voice that comes from her deepest longing to one day see her friend free and happy.
“I have killed one of the men that usually come to force themselves on me in that cursed house.” Helena quietly confessed to Aisha with more tears flowing uncontrollably.
“My soul is dark Aisha. And I feel as though knowing God and how loving he is to mankind has made everything worse.
Sometimes, I feel like I could never be forgiven by God, Aisha. I know it’s not true. But this is the way it feels.”
Aisha stayed quiet as the usual obedient friend she has always been.
Aisha has cried so many tears for her friend Helena over the course of the years. She has no tears left to cry.
Helena continued, “I came into this world with a horrible karma due to my past sins, and I kept creating more darkness even in this lifetime.
My hope for freedom is dying daily Aisha. My soul cannot even find refuge in the love you so dearly provide for me.
My heart has become cold and hard against myself.
Somewhere deep within me is the voice of darkness, always tormenting my mind. So you think God has forgiven me?”
Aisha remained silent with a gentle smile on her face which Helena could easily decipher as a comforting answer.
She turned and cupped Helena's face into the palms of her hands, looked straight into her eyes and whispered, “maybe you need to leave Calcutta.
Maybe Calcutta reminds you too much of all your pains. They say cities and countries have their own souls.
I don’t know if I believe that. But maybe it’s true. Maybe another country, another city is calling on your soul.”
Helena: Maybe the soul of Puttaparthi is calling mine. I have been dreaming myself in another city. I could not tell but my soul can’t help it but feel like it’s somewhere in puttaparthi.
Aisha: Have you ever been to Puttaparthi?
Helena: No. I heard about it from the group of the Christian nuns who serve the poor here in Calcutta.
It was their leader known as Teresa who spoke about it.
I served foods to the poor with those nuns before.
There was this peace and this contentment about them that I always wondered if I could ever also feel one day.
Aisha: I have a family in Puttaparthi--my mother. If your soul feels called by the soul of Puttaparthi, then you must go.
If it keeps coming, then it could be a good omen, a sign from the forces of the universe.
It took some days for Aisha to arrange Helena’s trip to Puttaparthi.
Helena arrived in Puttaparthi a few weeks after her last emotional conversation with Aisha.
That’s where I met her inside the body of this old man called Bai. Bai means pure.
It was in my clothing store that we first met. The transportation station was loud and dusty as usual.
Taxi cab drivers yelling at each other and the merchants at the market place calling out to their clients and making trade.
The night before we met, my soul knew someone was arriving in Puttaparthi to meet me.
I was familiar with the experience of souls meeting in the dream world before their bodies do in the shadow world of forms.
But most humans don’t pay attention to the whispers of time which is the only language dreams know how to speak.
I needed to travel a few days ago, for a month, to a prayer camp not too far from the market place. But my soul held me here.
Helena appeared in my dream many times. And many times I was told that I would be a medicine to her wounds.
We were telepathically connecting to each other through cities soul. Every city has a soul, a field that carries a certain unique texture.
But in the dream I could never see her face. But souls recognize each other not by how they look, but how they feel inside their heart when their eyes meet.
This remind me of the story of the two mystics who planed to be born in the same family to share the secret DNA message in their bloodline which was necessary for their earthly mission.
One was designed to fulfill a Messianic mission. The other was meant to prepare the way for him. One of them end up being killed by decapitation.
I remember the story said that when their mothers met and greeted each other, both children's souls leaped in their respective mothers womb.
This was the first time they were meeting after leaving the dream world we all came from--the real world.
I knew someone entered to store. I felt the unique presence of her soul. “How much is this Sari?” She gently asked.
My back was against the doorway. But her voice. Something about her voice caused my dream with the faceless woman to vividly reappear in my mind.
When I turned and saw her, I knew my assignment has come. Something leaped inside me. And I knew she felt it too.
I was now an old man and have helped so many souls find their freedom. I knew she was my last assignment and at the same time my call to return to the dream world.
I gave her the price of the Sari and she continued to say, “I am visiting a friend’s mother here and would like to give her this Sari as a gift. Do you think this is a good idea?”
“It’s a beautiful Sari.” I replied. When our eyes finally met again for the first time. She froze.
With a curious expression on her face she said, “you remind me of someone. I cannot tell who. But…anyway.”
She bought the Sari and left. I did not ask her where in the city she was heading or if she will be returning to the store. There was no need to.
Mektub! It was already established in the sacred scroll of the universe that I was a medicine to her wounded soul.
I am now close to one hundred years old and all my life I have been a medicine to souls.
Not all of them heal; but every soul touched by the light of God can never remain the same.
Eleven days later, at eleven in the morning, she returned to the store to buy more Saris.
I was preparing for my afternoon prayer routines when she arrived wearing the Sari she first purchased.
“I see that you did not give it as a gift after all. What made you change your mind to want to keep it for yourself?” I asked her.
Helena: I felt as if it should be mine. So I came back to buy more for my friend’s mother and her sister.
They have been so kind to me. Your Saris are unique and expensive. That’s why I like them.
You make people feel valued when you give them a unique and expensive gift. Won’t you agree?"
"Yes, you are right." I replied. "But people are more unique and more expensive than anything you could give them."
Helena: How so?
I replied: Because there cannot be two of you and you can never be for purchase.
After hearing those words I noticed her mood has changed.
I did not know then that she was sold as a prostitute at a young age; that she was used as a merchandise to be purchased by men for sexual pleasure.
I did not know she has never felt unique and valuable. I knew like most wounded souls, Helena has not yet found the eight keys to gracious living.
Tears started to flow out of her eyes. I looked at her and I asked her: "How old are these tears?"
Helena: Forty years. For forty years I have been walking in the wilderness. It's dry and I am also thirsty.
"Woman!" I called her with a gentle authority. "from now on you will never again walk in the wilderness for the rest of your life.
You have heard the sound of the soul of this city in your dream and it has brought you to me.
Your wilderness shall now rejoice and blossom like a rose."
At those words, her eyes became dry. A new glow appeared on her face. With her eyes and mouth wide opened, she became speechless.
By this time, she has realized that I was one of the gatekeepers of the city's soul.
Gatekeepers are the souls through which the creator releases his healing energy into people's lives through city souls.
I gave Helena a chair to sit and closed my store. After reciting my sacred healing prayer over her head, she started to shake uncontrollably.
The healing Qi from my body that moved through my hands into her crown energy center has caused a turbulence in her subconscious mind.
Helena fell from the chair into an ocean of golden waves of light-particles that I could see everywhere in the store.
Every single article in the store started to glow. Her body and mine became one with all the particles of light.
Everything became light. We were now standing in an auragram where everything started to glow even brighter.
Truly indeed The Lord wraps HIMSELF in light as with a garment; HE stretched out the heavens like a tent and lays the beams of HIS upper chambers on their waters. HE makes the clouds HIS chariot and rides on the wings of the wind.
Helena went into the dream world while her body laid quiet on the floor in this world of shadows.
Her soul went into a deep trance and she fell into a deep sleep only to wake up the next day. She is now free and ready to learn the eight keys to gracious living starting with the first key: Awakening Happiness From Within.
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Written By Alain Dagba - All Rights Reserved