Are You Spiritually Sensitive?
It’s about time we free talk about these and here goes my attempt.
The first occurrence was extraordinary.
It started with simple questions that made my family think I was a genius born. But as my age jumped and my naive freedom of speech lost the track, I soon turned from a Mastermind to a Madman.
I was a very wilful child and my imaginations ran faster than my mother’s ability to comprehend what a mere 6 years old could possibly mean. Always filled with, what my mother called “unnecessary curiosity” , I was ahead of my age in asking questions. My questions were somewhat like-
- How do the ants and bees follow their peers without any navigation or maps?
- Why do people die?
- Why can’t I just live in someone else’s body?
- Can dead people come back?
- Why did God only give us earth but make other planets lifeless?
- What if the earth itself is a living thing and we are the cells or parasites?
The way I saw the world was so alien to my family and friends that soon I started feeling uncomfortable within myself. It’s like my soul knows this shell is not the right fit for me.
I never complained about my face or physique.
I always complained about my conscious.
The second occurrences came in like scenes from a movie.
There were gaps in memories. Missing links and strange presences made me confused; Am I dreaming or is it real?
I know many don’t believe in spirits as in like ghosts. Spirits that haunt us. I don’t believe in ghosts too. But I believe there is another presence among us. Not an angel nor a demon. A presence that is inhuman with a set of characteristics beyond our understanding.
I am not here to prove if spirits exists. I am here to finally see if anyone else ever felt the way I did and I do. I don’t claim to be a medium or any sort of spiritualist. I don’t mind if you call me modern names such as delusional or schrezophernic.
I have two very simple stories for you today. These happened when I was quite young and there were witnesses who had similar stories to mine.
I just celebrated my 8th birthday. My family at that time was abroad and I lived with my cousins and aunt in my hometown. My gran’s sister came to town for a visit to the hospital near our house. The hospital was well-known and so my gran’s sister lived in our house for a while. Unfortunately, one night she fell really ill and everyone was panicking.
We, kids, were taken to a room by our elder cousin, as the whole house was in chaos. I was staring through the window. Looking at the crescent moon, the dark clear sky, the trees and our veggie garden. After gazing for sometime, I felt there was someone standing near the fence of the garden looking up at our house. Our house was a three-storied building and I lived on the top floor.
I was focusing on how that person looked but I could make up a figure. It was like a shadow or just a floating black smoke. Suddenly, in the next millisecond, as I blinked my eye (or I thought I blinked), the shadow turned into a white cat and crawled down the fence. I kept looking at the cat as it walked towards the house and went out of my view range.
I felt like I was in a daze and suddenly fell out of it. I was profusely sweating and even my elder sister thought I had fever. After a few more minutes, we were called to my gran’s sisters room. I remember hearing the whisper, “she may not last this night.” We were all praying in her room, silently and respectfully. Midway, I remember hearing a cat’s meow that sounded sad by strange. It kept calling the whole time I was there. I didn’t keep the incidence on my mind and went on with my life.
My gran’s sister went on coma after 2 days of the incident. She was in coma for months before giving up. On her funeral, I remember the caretaker telling my aunt how a cat would visit her often. Since the day gran’s sister died, the cat was never seen again. The family thought it was gran’s sister who might have fed the cat but also felt strange that the cat never came back. The caretaker also said that the cat would only eat fishbones and never toughed any other food or even water.
This happened when I was in my teens. Even to this day I remember it so vividly as if it happened few hours ago.
I was in Dubai, living with my family. This specific day my mother washed our carpets for the living room and dried them on the roof. Both my parent’s were in hospital as they are both professionally doctors. I and my two younger brothers were at home.
At 3 pm noon, I had a feeling that I need to get the carpets from the roof as weather was very sunny. I was afraid the carpets would lose its color if left under the sun for too long, so I went to the roof. The door was red metal door, quite heavy and thick. So, as I step on the rood, I put a two bricks infant, making sure the door doesn't shut due to wind. I walk towards the space where the carpets were lying.
The sun was infront of me but strangely I didn’ t have a shadow. I noticed this because nothing had a shadow on the roof. Neither the chairs nor the table. I didn’t pay any heed to it. After all I was weak in physics. I started to roll the carpets when suddenly the door bang shut. I ran to the door. I was thumbing on the door as hard as I could; Screaming and calling names.
I don’t know how long I stayed there but soon I heard a voice. He was speaking in Arabic. I was screaming “Help!” and soon the door was opened. I started to rush down the stairs. Soon I realized, it was not my house. I ran in every direction. Looking for the gate of this building. Three older man started to follow me. Maybe they took me as a thief. I don’t know. I soon found the gate and ran to the streets and recognized the neighborhood. I ran to my house and rang the door bell. My brother opened the door with a confused look. “Weren’t you watching cartoon with me just now” he claimed.
I know a lot of people would have many explanations to my stories. Even I did. Hallucinations, Imaginations and even called them dreams because they were so vivid and real.
Are you also spiritually sensitive?
I believe I am.
Can you see things or patterns as well?
I know I do.
Do you dream things that somehow feels like real life experiences?
I often dream stories. Or glimpses to someone’s life. It feels so real. Complete. I sometimes write them as poems and sometimes as stories. Dreams I don’t stays here. With me. In my mind.