#the voice of the vedas

[bluecube92]

Same Voice Actor #16

[mplanetleaf]

Battle of the Ten Kings in Rigveda | Dasaragna War | దశరాజ్ఞ యుద్ధం

[thecoiledserpent]

↺ AUSPICIOUS PLACEMENTS TO HAVE IN NATAL CHART

basics of vedic astrology. ask box. pinned.

note: only applicable to vedic charts. apply to western charts at your own accord.

these are general placements and don't guarantee anything on their own. if you want to be a shitty person, then even mahabhagya yogas or mahapurusha yogas will yield negative results and bring bad luck and accompany a massive fall from fame.

mars / saturn in the 3rd house + house lord present in another house (not mandatory, but makes it better)

both mars and saturn are naturally malefic planets and naturally, harm the house they are sitting in. when these planets sit in the upchaya houses (3,6,11), then their immense malefic energy is converted into courage, valor, and strength. it is best when these planetss sit in the 3rd house, however. 3rd house is the house of initiation. having mars in this house increases the quality of leadership in the native. it makes them especially brave and gives them the opportunity to master the negative side of their mars and make it even more auspicious. even having a maraka mars is good in this house because it will repeatedly put you in positions where you are made to realize and accept your negative qualities, and also rewarded for mastering them. saturn in 3rd house disciplines the fluttery, airy nature associated with this house. of course, curiosity is still pretty much the trademark of any 3rd house placement, but saturn here disciplines one's efforts towards learning in younger years and taking initiative when older. in particular, it bestows the power of impressive speech that is enough to make heads turn.

benefic planets in the 1st, 2nd, 5th, 9th, 11th / laxmi houses or laxmi yoga

in the horoscope, if the 1st lord, 2nd lord, and 11th lord are situated in self-owned sign, then the person will be rich. if the mutual zodiac sign exchange of the 2nd and 11th lord is happening or 11th lord is in 11th house, then one attains lakshmi. if the lagnesh is located in 2nd house and 2nd lord is in the 11th house or 11th lord in the second house of the horoscope, then lakshmi yoga is formed. in the horoscope, if the moon is located in an auspicious zodiac along with venus but not in the sixth house then good wealth is attained. this is really a very lucky placement imo. goddess lakshmi personally gives her blessings to these people, and for hindus, it is highly recommended to pray to goddess lakshmi with a genuine, clear heart and revere her as a mother. however, do be cautious that you also pray to shri vishnu because goddess lakshmi rides an owl, and owls on their own bring darkness. when goddess lakshmi comes into ones life with shri vishnu, they come on the king of the birds, garuda and spread light and divinity into one's life.

the mahapurusha yogas

having any of the mahapurusha yogas is literally a lottery ticket placement lmao. the planet forming the yoga immediately becomes one of the dominant planets of your personality and it is especially pronounced if the yoga is formed in the 1st-7th house axis. for ex. i have hamsa yoga in 7th house and a mars ak; i also have a younger brother. in his chart's 11th house, he has jupiter and mars. hence, despite having no jupiter dominance otherwise, jupiter becomes one of my dominant planets. i also have pronounced physical features that are associated with a hamsa yoga because jupiter is aspecting the ascendant and hence heavily influences my looks.

i. hamsa yoga — jupiter

when jupiter in cancer / pisces / sagittarius is present in any of the kendra houses. preferably but not mandatorily, without conjunctions with any other planet and not retrograde.

to quote the brihat parashara hora shastra:

the native with hamsa (swan, in hindi) yoga has a virtuous personality and is learned in the vedas. the hamsa native has voice like a swan, has a handsome appearance and well developed nose. they are a king with phlegmatic temperament, honey like tawny coloured eyes, red, coloured nails, sharp intelligence, sturdy cheeks, round, forehead and beautiful feet. they have marks of matsya (fish), ankush (the iron hook with which elephants are driven), dhanusha (bow), shankh (conch), kamal (lotus) in their hands and feet. they are very passionate and their lust remains unfulfilled. they are fond of swimming and playing games in watery places. they enjoy life fully and live as affluent, influential people and attain the pleasure of proper burial / cremation of their body after their death. they are most likely to own fertile lands near river beds, like near the ganga and yamuna.

one highlightable feature here is that these people have very beautifully formed feet; starting narrow and turning slightly broad by the tips with inwardly shaped toes that are often long and with shiny, clean pinkish nails. their feet are naturally warm but have a tendency quickly becoming cold and have light pink soles. such feet are highly auspicious and regardless of any yoga, are indicative of a good jupiter.

ii. malavya yoga — venus

when venus in taurus / libra / pisces is present in any of the kendra houses. preferably but not mandatorily, without conjunctions with any other planet and not retrograde, again, preferably.

to quote the brihat parashara hora shastra:

the malavya native has beautiful lips and a slender waist. they are lustrous like the moon and have fragrance in their body. they are of ordinary red complexion, have a medium stature and clean and beautiful teeth. their voice is like that of an elephant and their arms are long enough to reach upto his knees. they live happily for as owner of lands such as sindhu and malwa and then leaves for the heavenly abode.

iii. ruchaka yoga — mars

when mars in aries / scorpio/ capricorn is present in any of the kendra houses. preferably but not mandatorily, without conjunctions with any other planet and not retrograde, again, preferably.

to quote the brihat parashara hora shastra:

the ruchaka native possesses a long face, he is very enthusiastic, has spotless lustre, is powerful, has attractive brows, black hair and is fond of all things. they love to fight wars, are victorious over enemies, are discriminative, are protector of thieves and has cruel temperament and slender thighs. they are a devotee of brahmins, have marks of veena (musical instrument of goddess saraswati), dhanusha (bow), pasha(pāśa, often translated as "noose" or "lasso", is a supernatural weapon depicted in hindu iconography. hindu deities such as ganesha, yama, shyamala devi and varuna are depicted with the pasha in their hands.) and vrasha (unsure what this means, typically refers to a division of earth separated by mountain ranges but it doesn't make sense here; if anyone knows, please let me know as well) signs in their hands along with chakra rekha / line. they are well versed in occult sciences. they are tall, with a thin, slender waist and attractive physique.

these natives live an averagely long life and are most likely to be owner of lands of hilly regions or with red soils.

iv. bhadra yoga — mercury

when mercury in gemini / virgo is present in any of the kendra houses. preferably but not mandatorily, without conjunctions with any other planet and not retrograde, again, preferably.

to quote the brihat parashara hora shastra:

the bhadra native is splendorous like a lion, has very developed chest (or chest with well developed muscles), has the gait of an elephant, has long and thick arms, is learned in all respects. they are well versed in yoga performance, are of satwaguna qualities and have beautiful feet and a beautifully formed forehead. they are fond of luxuries and comforts and have marks of sankha (conch), chakra, gada, arrow, elephant, dhwaja (flag) and hala (plough) in their hands and feet. they are well versed in shastras, have black and curly hair, possess independent nature, and are a protector of their family. their friends share in the enjoyment of their wealth. they live happily with their wife and children and as the owners of Madhya Desha and enjoy a long life.

v. sasa yoga — saturn

when saturn in capricorn / aquarius / libra is present in any of the kendra houses. preferably but not mandatorily, without conjunctions with any other planet and not retrograde, again, preferably.

to quote the brihat parashara hora shastra:

the sasa native has small sized teeth and face but their body is not small. they are valorous. they have a slender waist and beautiful thighs. they are wise and enjoy wandering in forests and mountains. they are well versed in the loopholes (weaknesses) of the enemy. they are lively, virile and fond of women. they usurp other people’s wealth. they have marks of mala (garland), mridanga (musical instruments) and weapons in their hands and feet. they live averagely long lives and most often attain the higher lokas after death. in terms of land, there is no specification; they rule over lands that they desire.

sasa yoga gives enhanced results if venus is present with libra saturn, or is in good dignity, overall.

no malefics in the 2nd-8th house axis / 4th-10th house axis + benefic moon

this is pretty much a placement that indicates having a balanced and peaceful mental health. this is especially pronounced if only benefics are present in these axes or if they are entirely empty. it gives a good, stable childhood and responsible guardians / parents. it's not as flattering as many of the other placements here, but this is a favourable placement for your mental health. sudden death, spontaneity and sudden loss of wealth are prevented through this. of course, a lot of exceptions are applicable here, too. like rahu-ketu axis in the 1st-7th house or being born under a waning moon / new moon period which makes the moon a malefic and destroys inner peace. seriously though, having a weak moon is a curse because it hinders passion, creativity, self expression, focus and intelligence.

other forms of the mahapurusha yogas that are particularly lucky but i needn't elaborate:

venus / jupiter in 7th house in own sign / exalted sign: good for relationships and business exalted mars in 10th house: good for career and helps in cultivating drive. exalted jupiter in 1st house: a very likeable, pleasant, virtuous and amazing personality.

exalted /favourable ketu

a favourable ketu is less karmic baggage and favours the native's pursuit towards occult science. it also makes the native question society and the way it works; an exalted ketu puts its energy into attracting knowledge and spiritual elements into one's life. this for sure indicates a person with high moral values and good samskaar / 'behaviour', for lack of a better english equivalent. once again, this is not as flattering as the others, but it reduces the obstacles to be faced in life. a good ketu attracts peace into native's life.

mahabhagya 'highly fortunate' yoga

it is pretty rare since quite a few demands are to be met, but if you have it in your chart, then it means that you have collected a lot of good karma in your previous lives and will be blessed with all sorts of luxuries and guidance from divine energies in this life. for male natives, sun, moon and lagna must occupy odd signs and should be strong during the daytime. for female it should be vice versa to get the full power of this yoga. this yoga is applicable only when the sun, moon and lagna are not affected by malefics or are not malefics themselves. note that amavasya moon and waning moon are malefics. note that in vedic culture, day and night are defined via the sunrise and sunset time; so make sure that for male natives, you were born after sunrise, and for female natives, you were born after sunset and before next day's sunrise. the native is born into a good and affluent family and enjoys all sorts of comforts in their childhood. this yoga is literally all sunshine and daisies, it has no bad aspect. if you have it, then you will be blessed with all sorts of luxuries in life. the best things about it is that it blesses you with well-wishers in life so that you never go astray your life path. the divine is with you, and all pursuits become successful.

ॐ नमो भगवते वासुदेवाय नमः

[clairedaring]

About TOSAA (Thai On-Screen Actor Association)

On February 24, Thai media reports that actors and actresses in Thailand has established TOSAA - Thai On-Screen Actor Association with the purpose and announced the first/current board of members.

Nat Kitcharit - President Works: Fast and Feel Love, 4 Kings, 4 Kings II, In Youth We Trust, Delete, I Told Sunset About You...

Nonkul Chanon Santinatornkul - 1st Vice President Works: Bad Genius, I Feel You Linger In The Air, 46 Days, The Revenge, 23:23, Operation Undead, Wannabe, Remember, Project S: Shoot! I Love You...

Ud Awat Ratanapintha - 2nd Vice President / International Coordination Division Works: Doi Boy, Operation Undead, Haunted Universities 3, Doctor Climax, Project S: SPIKE, Hormones The Series...

Aelm Bhumibhat Thavornsiri - Secretary Works: Spare Me Your Mercy, In Youth We Trust, Tomorrow and I, The Broken Us, Mom's Recipe, Nakorn-Sawan, The Up Rank, Khun Phan 3, Girl From Nowhere 2...

Ek Thaneth Warakulnukro - Advisor Works: Thai Cave Rescue, Hurts Like Hell, In Family We Trust, Tee Shot: Ariya Jutanugarn, Bad Genius, One For The Road...

Sine Inthira Jaroenpura - Spokesperson / PR Division Works: By the Time It Gets Dark, Nang Nak, 4 Kings II, Taklee Genesis, The Unborn, The House, Absolute Zero...

Oh Anuchit Sapanpong - Spokesperson / PR Division Works: Malila: The Farewell Flowers, The Overture, Kahon Maha Ratuek (Inspector Vedas), Thicha...

Donut Manatsanun Panlertwongskul - International Coordination / Special Actitivities Division Works: Thai Cave Rescue, The Edge of Daybreak, Rivalry...

Meng Chaiwat Chartsuriyakiat - Special activities Division Works: In Youth We Trust, Khun Phan 3... Meng is the drummer for Thai rock band Desktop Error.

Jaii Itkron Pungkiatrussamee - Director Works: In Youth We Trust, 4 Kings, 4 Kings II, The Cliche, The Stone... Jaii is the lead vocalist and guitarist of the Thai modern folk rock band TaitosmitH.

Linn Mashannoad Suvanamas - Director / Treasurer Works: Queendom, Voice In The Rain, Investigation of Love, Sampat Ruttikan, Lhong Fai, Mr. Hurt...

Best Nathasit Kotimanuswanich - Director Works: My Sassy Girl, Friend Zone, Friend Zone 2, Dark App, Sleepless Society: Insomnia, Fleet Of Time, Ghost Is All Around, Alone In Outing...

Mook Minrayaporn Somnongkham - Registrar Mook is an event planner and organiser at Bhorncheewaa Entertainment.

Although the official board has only been announced very recently, the association released its first statement on the objectives of the establishment of TOSAA in March 2024. Essentially, the main purpose is to gather Thai actors in any mediums such as feature films, documentaries, dramas or series with a common goal of creating professional standards for actors, facilitate an environment for exchange and development and be one of the driving forces that pushes Thai industry to the global standard.

Throughout the year of 2024, TOSAA hosted their series Monologue talks and roundtables between actors, similar to the format of Variety's Actors on Actors and The Hollywood Reporter's Roundtable.

1. Aelm Bhumibhat Thavornsiri and Pat Chayanit (EP 1 & EP 2)

2. Sine Inthira and Namfon Kullanat (EP 3 & EP 4)

3. Noi Pru, Jaii TaitosmitH, Nat Kitcharit (EP 5 & EP 6)

4. Monologue Roundtable with Aelm Bhumibhat, Anne Thongprasom, Oh Anuchit, Fresh Arisara, Nat Sakdatorn, Aom Phiyada (EP 1 & EP 2)

5. Monologue Roundtable with Nat Kitcharit, Gap Thanavate, Mote Pramote, Top Todsapol, Meng Chaiwat (EP 3 & EP 4)

Nat and Nonkul are actually members of Film Subcommittee for Thailand Creative Culture Agency which is an agency established by Thailand's National Soft Power Strategy Committee. (Bonus fun fact: Actor Tong Thanayut Thakoonauttaya, more known to QL fans for his roles in Kinnporsche, Man Suang, Tharntype... is actually a member of the Series Subcommittee of THACCA)

Here's an excerpt from a Deadline article detailing some of THACCA's plans.

Inspired by organizations such as Korea’s KOCCA, Taiwan’s TAICCA and France’s CNC, THACCA is described as an organization that “oversees strategic collaboration between the government and private sectors to create income and opportunities for the Thai people through soft power by using its cultural industries as a powerful tool.” It also oversees Thai creative industries including music, publishing, sports, games, design, fashion and food.  While total budget was not mentioned, THACCA is spending spending some $6.7M on Thai films, series, docs and animation in 2024-2025, investing in around 30-40 projects, and also plans to launch a new international film festival and T-Expo showcase for Thai content. A further $5.25M is being spent on reskilling the workforce. Longer term, there are plans to launch a Thailand Film Council, invest more in local productions and international co-productions, as well as promote Thai content overseas. Thailand’s government is also planning to establish Media Business Economic Zones, with Pattaya mentioned as a location, and expand cinema circuits in rural areas. 

So at the same time that THACCA was being worked on for its pilot programmes in 2024, Nat and Nonkul were already gathering their actors friends to come together and plan the establishment of TOSAA (Thai On-Screen Actors Association).

I did wonder if this association would be similar to the American Screen Actors Guild. And I found in this article with Meng Chaiwat Chartsuriyakiat that the 2023 SAG-AFTRA strike for fair wages was indeed one of the reasons that sparked the actors to come together to push for on-screen standards for Thai media.

pinging friends @flowerbeasblog @virtualtadpole @mukaikun @thomaskong @chayatorns @kittychicha who may be interested in general thai media landscape news.

[saebyeokbliss]

ONCE MORE TO SEE YOU— PART IX.

synopsis: on a cold january day, you were worrying about the reason your girlfriend wasn’t texting back. when she finally does and asks to meet at your apartment, you’re met with heartbreak as she ends your relationship. no explanation. two years later, you run into her at a cafe with someone new. what are you to do?

warnings: angst, death, swearing, yelling, more stress HAHA

pairing: sae-byeok x fem!reader

The hospital always felt colder than it should. The sterile white walls and the faint smell of antiseptic clung to you like a second skin every time you walked through those doors. It was the kind of place that drained the warmth out of you, leaving only a gnawing sense of dread in its wake.

You hated being there. But you hated what it meant to not be there even more.

When you entered Veda’s room, the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor greeted you, a sound you had come to associate with her continued survival. She was propped up in the hospital bed, her small frame swallowed by the too-big sheets. Her face was pale, and the bruises from the accident had faded to a sickly yellow, but when her eyes met yours, she gave you a tired smile.

“Hey, Vee,” you said softly, setting your bag down on the chair by the bed.

“Hey,” she whispered, her voice weak but steady.

You pulled up a chair beside her, reaching out to take her hand. Her fingers were cold, and they trembled slightly as she squeezed your hand back. You’d been careful to hide your own exhaustion from her—she didn’t need to know about the sleepless nights, the eviction notice, or the constant weight of your parents’ demands. She had enough to deal with without worrying about you.

“How are you feeling today?” you asked, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her forehead.

“Better,” she said, though the effort it took her to speak made it clear she was lying. “The nurses said I might be able to start walking again soon. Isn’t that good?”

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile. “That’s great.”

She studied your face for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly. “You look tired.”

You laughed softly, trying to brush it off. “I’m fine. Just busy, you know? Work, school, all that fun stuff.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press you. Instead, she leaned back against the pillows, her gaze drifting to the window. “Do you think I’ll ever get out of here?” she asked quietly.

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. “Of course you will,” you said finally, your voice firm. “You’re going to get better, Vee. I promise.”

She didn’t say anything, but the way her lips curved into a faint smile told you that she wanted to believe you.

The two of you talked for a while, about nothing and everything all at once. You told her about the diner, about your coworkers, about the funny things customers said that made you want to laugh and cry at the same time. She told you about the books she’d been reading, about the nurses who were kind to her, and about the dreams she had of being anywhere but there.

For a little while, it felt almost normal. Like the hospital walls weren’t closing in, and the weight of the world wasn’t pressing down on your shoulders. But then, without warning, everything changed.

“Vee?” you said, noticing how her eyelids started to droop and her grip on your hand loosened. “You okay?”

She didn’t respond.

“Vee,” you said again, your voice rising slightly as panic began to creep in.

Her head lolled to the side, and the faint smile that had been on her lips was gone. The beeping of the heart monitor that had been your constant companion suddenly turned sharp and erratic, the sound cutting through the air like a knife.

“Veda!” you shouted, standing up so fast that the chair toppled over behind you. Her chest wasn’t moving. Her lips were turning blue.

The room dissolved into chaos as alarms blared and nurses rushed in, pushing you back as they surrounded her bed. Someone was shouting something—maybe it was you—but you couldn’t hear it over the deafening roar in your ears.

You watched helplessly as they worked on her, their movements frantic and precise. The minutes stretched on forever, each one more agonizing than the last. And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.

The heart monitor flatlined, the steady drone filling the room like a death knell. One of the nurses looked up at the clock, her expression grim. “Time of death: 3:47 PM.”

It felt like the ground had been ripped out from under you. Your knees buckled, and you sank to the floor, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

But it was.

Veda was gone.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, numb and shaking, before your parents arrived. The moment your mother stepped into the room, her eyes went straight to you. Her face twisted in grief, but beneath it, there was something else—something sharp and accusatory.

“What happened?” she demanded, her voice trembling. “What did you do?”

You stared at her, your mouth opening and closing as you struggled to find the words. “I—I didn’t—”

“She was fine this morning!” your mother shouted, tears streaming down her face. “She was fine, and now she’s—she’s—” She broke off, sobbing, as your father stepped forward, his expression hard.

“This is your fault,” he said, his voice cold and final. “You should’ve been watching her. You should’ve done something.”

Something inside you snapped.

“My fault?” you said, your voice rising as you stood up, fury coursing through you like wildfire. “You’re blaming me for this? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Don't curse at your parents! Who else is there to blame?” your father shot back. “You were here! You were supposed to be taking care of her!”

“I have been taking care of her!” you shouted, your hands trembling as you gestured wildly. “I’ve been taking care of everything! While you sit at home doing nothing, I’ve been working myself to death to pay for her medical bills, to keep a roof over your heads, to make sure she had a chance! And now you’re going to stand there and blame me?”

Your mother’s sobs grew louder, but she didn’t say anything. Your father opened his mouth to argue, but you didn’t let him.

“I’ve lost everything because of you!” you yelled, tears streaming down your face. “My house, my money, my future—everything! And for what? So you could sit there and tell me I’m not doing enough? I’ve been breaking myself apart for you, and it’s still not enough, is it? It’s never enough!”

The room fell into stunned silence, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath, the anger and grief swirling inside you like a storm.

Your father didn’t respond. He just stared at you, his expression unreadable, while your mother cried into her hands. For the first time in weeks, you didn’t care what they thought. You didn’t care about their guilt trips or their accusations. You were done.

The walk back to your apartment felt endless, each step heavier than the last. The cold night air bit at your skin, but you hardly noticed. Your mind was a storm of emotions—grief, anger, guilt—each one pulling you in a different direction until you felt like you were going to burst. Veda was gone. The words echoed in your head, hollow and cruel. She was gone, and there was nothing you could do to change it.

By the time you reached your building, your legs felt like they might give out beneath you. You climbed the stairs slowly, every breath a struggle, until you reached your door. The eviction notice was gone—it was stuffed in your bag, forgotten for now—but the weight of it still lingered, a constant reminder that tomorrow would be your last day here.

You unlocked the door and stepped inside, the quiet of the apartment almost deafening. The single-room space, small and cluttered as it was, had never felt emptier. The air was cold, stagnant, and you couldn’t bring yourself to turn on the lights. You dropped your bag on the floor and sank into the sofa, burying your face in your hands as the tears finally came.

For a long time, you just sat there, the sobs wracking your body as the events of the day crashed over you like a wave. You cried for Veda, for the life she’d never get to live. You cried for yourself, for the weight you’d been carrying for so long. And you cried for the anger you felt toward your parents, for the guilt that came with it, and for the fact that, deep down, you still wanted to make them proud.

When the tears finally slowed, leaving you hollow and shaking, you dragged yourself to the kitchen to get some water. That’s when you saw it.

An envelope sat on the counter, stark white against the dark surface. Your brow furrowed as you approached it, your heart skipping a beat when you saw your name scrawled on the front in hurried, slanted handwriting. You recognized it instantly.

Sae-byeok.

Your hands trembled as you picked up the envelope, dread and confusion swirling in your chest. You tore it open carefully, your breath catching when you saw the contents.

Money. More money than you’d ever seen in your life.

You dumped the stack of bills onto the counter, your chest tightening as you tried to process what you were seeing. It couldn’t be real—there was no way—but the weight of the cash in your hands told you otherwise. And then, tucked beneath the last stack of bills, you found the note.

“You need it more than me.”

That was all it said. Short, simple, and so Sae-byeok that it made your head spin.

Your emotions swung wildly from confusion to disbelief to anger, the grief you’d been drowning in now replaced by a white-hot rage. You stared at the money, your hands curling into fists as the words of the note burned into your mind.

You didn’t want her pity. You didn’t want this.

Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed the envelope, stuffed the money back inside, and stormed out the door.

The diner was quiet when you arrived, the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the distant clatter of dishes the only sounds. Your heart pounded in your chest as you pushed open the door, your steps quick and purposeful as you made your way to the break room. You didn’t care that your shift wasn’t for hours or that barging in like this was bound to cause a scene. You needed to see her.

Sae-byeok was sitting at the small table in the break room, unbothered as she sipped from a mug of coffee. She looked up when you entered, her expression unreadable as her dark eyes flicked to the envelope in your hand.

“What the hell is this?” you demanded, your voice trembling with anger as you slammed the envelope onto the table.

She didn’t flinch. Instead, she set her mug down and leaned back in her chair, her gaze steady. “What does it look like?”

“It looks like you’re trying to buy me off,” you snapped, your voice rising. “Do you think this fixes anything? Do you think throwing money at me is going to make everything better?”

“It’s not about fixing anything,” she said, her tone calm but firm. “It’s about helping.”

“I don’t need your help!” you shouted, your hands trembling as you gestured wildly. “I don’t need your money, I don’t need your pity, and I sure as hell don’t need you swooping in like some savior to save me from my own damn life!”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of anger beneath her calm exterior. “You’re so full of shit,” she said, her voice cold.

Your breath caught in your throat, but she didn’t give you a chance to respond.

“You’re drowning, and you know it,” she continued, her voice rising as she stood up, her chair scraping against the floor. “You’re working yourself to death, losing your home, grieving your sister, and still trying to act like you’ve got it all under control. Well, guess what? You don’t. And there’s nothing wrong with admitting that.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, but she didn’t stop.

“You think I don’t know what it’s like to struggle?” she said, her voice sharp and cutting. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to lose everything, to feel like the world is crushing you under its weight? I’ve been there. I’ve lived that. And I’m still living it.”

Her voice softened slightly, but the intensity in her eyes didn’t waver. “This isn’t about pity. It’s about survival. And whether you want to admit it or not, you need this money more than I do.”

You stared at her, your chest heaving as her words sank in. The anger that had been fueling you began to waver, replaced by something else—something raw and vulnerable that you didn’t want to face.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “But you need it.”

The room fell silent, the tension between you thick and suffocating. You didn’t know what to say, your emotions a tangled mess as you stared down at the envelope on the table.

Finally, you shook your head, grabbing the envelope and shoving it back into your bag. “I don’t… I can’t…”

Sae-byeok didn’t respond, her expression unreadable as she watched you turn and leave the break room.

You didn’t stop walking until you were outside, the cold night air biting at your skin as you leaned against the side of the building. Your hands shook as you clutched the strap of your bag, the weight of the money inside pressing down on you like a physical thing.

You hated her for doing this. You hated her for making you feel small and weak and exposed. But more than that, you hated the part of you that was grateful—grateful for the money, for the gesture, for the fact that, even in her cold and unrelenting way, she cared.

For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel completely alone.

taglist: @monroesturnns@everly-summers-solace@holyshtimgay@knfthxv@delfinadolphin@madebysae@jetaimeeeee@m0rtifiedg0th@katieschry1@erika-mon2-blog@tcvazq not taking anymore taglist additions!! sorry!!

[talonabraxas]

Cosmic Trinity Talon Abraxas Hari Om Mantra: Hari Om Tat Sat - God is the Supreme Reality. Hari Om Soham - God I AM, I AM God. Hari Om Sat Nam - God is my True Self.

The Vedas are the main and intrinsic part of the Hindu mythology. Hindu mythology roots back to 7200 BC when the first hymns of the RIG VEDA was composed. There is no systematic theology in the Vedas. The hymns of the RIG VEDA are the first and freshest expression of the sense of beauty and gladness awakened in the Aryan race by the charms and the bounty of nature. The gods of the Vedas are in their apparent origin no more than the poetic epithets of space, the heavens, the firmament, sun and earth, day and night, twilight and dawn, wind and rain, storm and sunshine; all ministering to the divine care of man, in the breathing air and radiant light, the fleeting moon and constant stars, the rising mists and falling dews and the rivers which flow down the hills through the fruitful plains making with the flocks and herds and woods and fields, one ceaseless voice of praise and adoration. The etymological meaning of the epithets is so clear that it at once explains the myths, which, in the course of time became attached to them. Thus the VEDAS mirror the exactly how the words uttered centuries ago by the Vedic RISHIS (bards) and sages gradually became the gods of India. VEDIC GODS assumed the most undoubted personality, of the real qualities intended to be expressed by their names. They have no fixed hierarchy, or regular genealogy, no settled marriages and relationships; they remain to the last transparent reflections of those physical phenomena and powers of which they are the earliest known appellations. They were mere abstractions, intangible and illusive personification of powers of Nature. It is only in the Puranas that they become invested with strong personality, and it is their order among the Puranic gods that the conventional representation of them in the later mythology of the Hindus was more appropriately described. Rig Veda - lore of the verses, enumerates numerous Vedic Gods. The earliest accepted Gods were DYAUSH PITA (the sky father), PRITHVI MATHA (the earth mother), VAYU(the wind God), PARJANYA (the rain God), SURYA (the sun God), VARUNA (the God of oceans), AGNI (the fire God), INDRA (the war God), SOMA (the God of speech, deity of soma creeper), USHAS (the Goddess of dawn), YAMA (the God of death), ADITYAS (a group of deities, who are six in number in the Rig Veda, eight in most of the Brahmanas and twelve in the Satapatha Brahmana), ASWINI (twin Deities), RUDRAS (eight in number), VASUS (eight in number) and VISVEDEVAS ( ten in number). Vedic priests believed in ceremonies and rituals, which were offered to appease these Gods. No one Vedic God has been considered the Supreme God. In fact, different Gods have been considered as Supreme at different times, attributing the powers and qualities of one to another. Apart from Gods who have been attributed specific characteristics, several inanimate objects, qualities, emotions and various forms of nature had also been deified and worshipped. What began as a celebration of natural elements such as Air, Water and Fire was converted into the worship of cosmic elements such as the sun, moon and stars. And thus formed the triad of the early VEDIC GODS - AGNI (god of fire), VAYU (god of air) and SURYA (god of energy or life) - THE COSMIC TRINITY. These were all sons of PRITHVI (Mother nature) and DYAUS (the sky). In addition to this the nine planets (NAVAGRAHA) were also worshipped.

[transgenderer]

I can't tell if im just experiencing a "fish dont have a word for water" moment but I feel like hinduism is way more...conceptually rich than the abrahamic religions? In part because the rig veda is much more multivocalic than the Torah, like obviously the Torah has a lot.of voices and a ton of inconsistencies but is been edited for consistency in like...*priorities*, in *hierarchy*, in *certainty*. But also because polytheism (or polymorphic monotheism) gives you a lot more to play with, you can have man and woman as prominent figures, your stories can have multiple divine characters playing against each other, its richer. Aniconic monotheism really limits your options, which I guess is why you see the proliferation of saints and demons and such but that can only get you so far when you have to stick to one guy without a lot of traits being the most important thing

[xoxorealitygalore]

Fast & Furious: The Mother

Luke Hobbs x OC

Summary: An assassin comes out of hiding to rescue her daughter, whom she left earlier in life.

Fast & Furious presents The Mother: Family runs deep. Vengeance runs deeper.

Part Two

The Hobbs Family

* Sefina Hobbs - Matriarch

* Jonah Hobbs - Mechanic

* Tamina as Auli'i Hobbs - Jonah’s Wife

* Zilla Fatu as Zilla Hobbs - Jonah’s Son

* Luke Hobbs

* Veda Burgos-Hobbs - Luke's Wife

* Samantha Hobbs - Luke's Daughter

* Kal Hobbs

* Nia Jax as Tiasa Hobbs - Kal’s Wife

* Roman Reigns as Mateo Hobbs

* Bianca Belair as Chey Hobbs - Mateo’s Wife

* Timo Hobbs

* Sasha Banks as Lanuola Hobbs - Timo’s Wife

* Jimmy Uso as Enele Hobbs

* Naomi as Tisha Hobbs - Enele’s Wife

* Jey Uso as Enoka Hobbs

* Bayley as Gabby Hobbs - Enoka’s Wife

* Lisa Hobbs

* Jacob Fatu as Laki Hobbs

* Solo Sikoa as Fetu Hobbs

Samoa

The roar of the ocean echoed like a war drum across the Samoan cliffs as the black military transport jet touched down on the cleared dirt strip. As the blades slowed, dust rose into the sky like a curtain being drawn on an old stage, revealing figures forged from metal, muscle, and memory.

Veda stepped out first, wind tugging at her hair, boots crunching over volcanic soil. Her gaze scanned the horizon.

Behind her, Luke followed. Towering and silent, Samoa was still etched into his bones. And beside them came Dominic and his crew, their engines silent for once, their loyalty loud in their presence. But it wasn’t Dominic’s crew that concerned Luke today.

It was his family.

They came here not to seek peace, but power and to gather strength in numbers to save the one thing they couldn’t afford to lose: Samantha. Their daughter. Kidnapped. Gone for nearly two weeks. Every hour chipped away at Veda’s sanity. Every second turned her into a sharper weapon.

The compound loomed on the edge of the jungle. It wasn’t a house; it was a monument to resilience, sweat, and scars. Hobbs Customs, a place rebuilt from betrayal and estrangement. The workshop smelled of engine grease, old steel, and island flowers.

And there, like sentinels of the past, stood the eight Hobbs brothers: Jonah, Mateo, Kal, Timo, Enele, Enoka, Laki, and Fetu.

Their eyes tracked the newcomers like hawks.

Jonah stood front and center, arms like tree trunks, face carved with bitterness. His stare locked onto Luke.

“You really brought her here?” he said without breaking eye contact.

“Didn't come for you,” Veda snapped before Luke could answer. “Came for my daughter.”

The air thickened.

Then Lisa stepped forward. She was Luke’s only sister, hair braided back, expression unreadable. Veda’s eyes narrowed the second she saw her.

“You mean the daughter you ran from,” Lisa said, voice low and dangerous.

In a flash, Veda moved. The first punch cracked like thunder across Lisa’s jaw. Lisa barely staggered before responding with a knee to the ribs. They collided like storms, so wild and merciless. Kicks, strikes, raw emotion. The ground beneath them exploded in red dust as they slammed into it, wrestling with more than fists with years of blame.

Luke didn’t move. His arms were crossed over his chest, face unreadable. He wasn’t letting them fight for sport, he was letting them burn it out. Dominic took a cautious step forward.

“Should we—?”

“No,” Luke said. “Let it happen. They need it.”

The brothers stood in a silent ring, watching without flinching. Mateo winced as Veda landed a knee to Lisa’s stomach. Kal muttered something in Samoan. Auli'i, Lanuola, Tiasa, Chey, Gabby, and Tisha emerged from the house, standing at the porch with folded arms.

Then the voice of authority rang out, sharp as ever.

“Enough!”

Sefina Hobbs. The matriarch. Time hadn’t shrunk her, only made her more powerful. With silver in her hair and fire in her eyes, she stepped into the circle. The sisters froze. Breathing heavy, blood on knuckles, fire still burning.

Sefina looked at them both.

“This house holds enough ghosts. Don’t add more.”

Lisa wiped her lip. Veda stood straighter, defiant.

Then Luke spoke. “Samantha’s been taken.”

Dead silence.

“Dante Reyes,” he added. “Son of Hernan Reyes. He wants revenge. He took Sam.”

Mateo shook his head slowly. “How long?”

“Two weeks.”

“You waited two weeks to come here?”

“I had to find the trail first.”

Sefina’s gaze pierced Luke like a blade. “What’s the plan?”

Luke turned to Veda, and together they stepped forward.

“We need all of you,” Veda said. “Dante won’t see it coming if it’s family.”

“Why should we help you?” Jonah asked. “You walked away from our brother and your daughter.”

“I did what I had to do to keep them alive,” Veda said.

It was silent after that moment.

Sefina took a step forward. “What’s the plan,” she asked.

Later, the garage turned war room. Tables were cleared, maps spread out. Dominic and his crew worked alongside the Hobbs brothers, who were still wary but cooperative. Old tools became weapons. Outdated trucks were modified for war.

Hobbs Customs became a fortress.

As they worked, dynamics shifted.

Kal taught Roman how to use a traditional Samoan war club. Timo and Letty argued over engine timing. Tej bonded with Fetu over electrical wiring. Amid it all, Veda remained a shadow of constant, quiet, and deadly.

That night, while the others shared laughs around the fire, she sat inside. The living room was dimly lit, filled with the scent of burnt wood and coconut oil. Her eyes landed on a photo on the shelf.

A black-and-white frame. She moved closer.

It was her and Luke walking down the aisle, barefoot on the sand, his hand in hers, both smiling.

She hadn’t seen that photo in years.

Gabby entered quietly with a mug of tea.

“Sam brought it when she visited,” she said, offering the mug.

“I didn’t know he kept it,” Veda whispered.

“He never stopped loving you.”

“I’m not here for love,” Veda replied. “I’m here for my daughter.”

Gabby sat beside her. “You sure about that?”

Veda didn’t answer.

The next day, the plan went into motion.

Jonah led the garage conversion. Mateo and Ramsey coordinated the tech. Dominic brought out hidden weapons. Together, they mapped Dante’s compound, an offshore fortress surrounded by motion sensors and mercs.

Enele and Enoka handled water routes. Kal and Timo coordinated diversions. Veda trained alone in the courtyard, blades slicing air. Her fury had focus now.

Sefina watched her from the shadows. “You’re strong,” she said.

Veda didn’t stop moving. “Not strong enough.”

“You’re not alone.”

Veda paused, blade at her side.

Sefina stepped forward. “I know pain when I see it. But you can’t save her with anger.”

“I have nothing else left.”

“You have us.”

The Burgos Family

* Pascacio Burgos - Patriarch

* Adriana Barraza as Lola Burgos - Matriarch

* Simone Kessell as Kailani Laguatan-Burgos - Veda and Cereza’s Mother

* Sylvester Stallone as Victor Burgos - Veda and Cereza’s Father

* Veda Burgos-Hobbs

* Luke Hobbs - Veda’s Husband

* Samantha Hobbs - Veda's Daughter

* Vanessa Hudgens as Cereza Burgos-Toretto

* Jakob Toretto - Cereza’s Husband

The ocean whispered in the distance, rhythmic waves brushing against the shores of Samoa like a steady heartbeat. The tropical sun cast a golden glow over the land, but Veda barely noticed. Her mind was far from the postcard-perfect beauty around her. While others marveled at the cascading waterfalls, the lush jungles, and the hum of island life, she was burdened with something heavier, an ache in her chest that no scenery could mend. Watching Luke laugh with his brothers, his family thick around him like armor, only deepened that ache. It reminded her of what she never truly had, a family, not in the sense of blood alone, but presence. Reliability. Love that stayed.

Veda’s family had always been like smoke. There one moment, gone the next. Disappearing without explanation, sometimes for years. Her mother would vanish with only a scribbled note left behind. Her father would surface when it suited him. Her sister, Cereza, had been the one exception, a flickering beacon in a sea of unpredictability. Even if she moved often, Cereza always let Veda know where she was.

And now, by some strange twist of fate or divine alignment, Cereza was in Samoa.

Veda didn’t tell anyone where she was going. She didn’t owe them that, not when her instincts screamed louder than reason. She slipped away from the Hobbs family compound under the cloak of midmorning silence, her boots crunching on gravel, heart thrumming like a drumbeat. The road stretched on, winding through palms and wildflowers, until finally, nestled between two flowering flame trees, she found the modest white house her sister called home.

The front door creaked open, and there she was. Cereza. Always effortlessly beautiful, skin glowing, smile sharp and amused. She leaned against the doorframe like she’d been waiting.

“Well, well,” she drawled. “Why are you here in Samoa?”

Veda stood stiffly, unsure of what to say. “Sam got kidnapped. We came to get help from Luke’s family.”

“We?” Cereza asked, eyebrow raised.

“Dom and his crew are helping us.”

A beat of silence passed. Then a slow, knowing smile crept across Cereza’s face. “Really? Then I guess that means you’re here to ask for my help.”

“If you want to,” Veda said, shrugging. She masked her emotions like a well-trained soldier. But her voice betrayed a sliver of hope.

“Of course, I do. She’s my niece.”

The screen door creaked again, and out stepped Kailani, their mother, elegant as ever in a flowing robe of Samoan print. Behind her, their father Victor emerged—tall, imposing, silent. Even their grandparents, Lola and Pascacio, stood on the porch, faces weathered but eyes sharp.

“My granddaughter has been kidnapped,” Kailani said flatly.

Veda’s breath caught. Her throat tightened with something she couldn’t name. Bitterness? Regret? Hurt, definitely. Her family, her disappearing act of a family was here. Together. Without her. And yet, they looked at her as if no time had passed.

“Yeah,” Veda murmured. The word dropped like a pebble into the silence. She fought to keep her face neutral.

Victor clapped his hands once. “Let’s get to work.”

They piled into two cars and followed Veda back to the Hobbs home. Gravel crunched beneath tires, sunlight shimmering across windshields. When they arrived, Luke was already rushing out the front door, his face a storm of worry and anger.

“You can’t just leave without telling anyone where you’re going,” he snapped, voice raised, eyes locked on Veda.

Veda stared at him blankly as her family exited the vehicles. Before she could speak, Victor stepped forward, eyes narrowing.

“Boy, if you don’t get out of her face, I’ll put you on your ass.”

Luke blinked, stunned into silence.

“I went to get my family,” Veda said as she brushed past him. “The more, the merrier.”

Cereza sauntered up beside Luke, smiling like mischief personified. “Hey, brother-in-law,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Victor’s eyes lingered on Luke with warning as he followed his daughters inside.

“I told you, you should have never married him,” Victor muttered to Veda.

Dom, standing nearby, glanced at Luke with curiosity. “Is her family like her?”

Luke sighed. “Worse.”

Inside, maps were spread, plans drawn, and alliances formed. The name on everyone’s lips was Samantha. No one would rest until she was safe.

“So where are we headed?” Cereza asked, eyes alight with the thrill of action.

“Sardinia,” Veda answered.

Later that afternoon, the buzz of planning dulled, Veda found her sister in the courtyard, staring at someone across the way. Her gaze was fixed, soft, haunted.

“Why are you staring at him?” Veda asked.

“That’s Jakob’s older brother,” Cereza whispered.

Veda’s breath hitched. “Your Jakob?”

“Yeah. You know I haven’t seen him in two months.”

Before Veda could respond, Roman, oblivious as ever, walked over and opened his mouth.

“Yeah, Jakob went out like a hero. Took out a whole crew of mercs so Dom could rescue Little B.”

The air thickened. Cereza’s eyes widened. Her knees buckled, and Veda caught her just in time.

“What?” Roman said, confused by the sudden shift. “What’d I say?”

“Keep it together,” Veda whispered fiercely, carrying her sister inside. The walls of the bedroom muffled the cries that followed.

“He’s dead,” Cereza said between sobs. Her voice was hoarse. “He’s gone. And I wasn’t even there.”

“I’m so sorry,” Veda said, holding her sister tightly.

Cereza’s tear-streaked face hardened with resolve. “Dante is dead when we catch him.”

“Of course,” Veda whispered. “We’ll end him together.”

Outside, Roman awkwardly filled in Dom on the scene he had accidentally triggered. Ramsey, curious, pulled out her laptop and did some digging. A few keystrokes later, she froze.

“I found something,” she said. “There’s a marriage certificate. Jakob and Cereza... they were married.”

Dom’s heart dropped. Letty put a hand on his shoulder.

“Talk to her,” she urged.

But Cereza was already asleep, drained. Veda stepped out and found Dom in the hallway.

“Stay away until she’s ready to speak to you,” she told him gently.

“Did you know?” Dom asked.

“About them? Yes. About you and Jakob being brothers? No.”

Dom nodded, the weight of the new revelation settling on his shoulders.

Their quiet was broken by Luke stepping in, tension lingering on his features.

“We need to talk,” he said to Veda.

“What? You want to accuse me of running away again?”

Luke sighed. “Don’t start that shit, Veda. I just want to talk.”

Dom raised his hands and walked away. “Love.”

“What do you want to talk about, husband?” Veda asked, voice cool.

“Well, wife,” Luke said, his sarcasm matching hers. “What’s your plan after we rescue our daughter? Are you sticking around?”

Veda paused. The question was simple. But the answer wasn’t.

“I don’t think that’s wise,” she said finally.

Luke didn’t respond at first. He just stared at her, his jaw clenched, the lines of worry across his forehead deepening. Veda’s answer, soft as it was, hit him like a punch to the gut. She had always been the wild one, the runner, the one who never unpacked her bags no matter how long she stayed. And yet, he had hoped. Hoped that having a daughter, a family, might change her. Ground her.

But there she was. Veda, still impossible to pin down, still looking for exits even when the door was wide open.

“Why?” he finally asked.

Veda looked past him, toward the window where the orange light of sunset was beginning to spill across the floor. She didn’t want to answer, but the silence demanded it.

“Because I don’t trust myself to stay,” she said. “Every time I’ve tried... something breaks. Or I break it.”

Luke stepped closer. “We have a daughter, Veda. That’s not something you just walk away from.”

“I know,” she whispered, and that whisper was more painful than a scream. “But I need to find the part of me that won’t run. Right now, she’s gone.”

Luke looked away, trying to temper the storm inside him. He wanted to grab her and shake her into sense. But more than that, he wanted her to choose them on her own, not out of guilt, not out of fear. Out of love.

“We’ll talk later,” he said, his voice low, strained.

Veda nodded. They both knew later might never come.

Back in the common room, the team was finalizing details. The rescue mission for Samantha was their shared focus, a goal that burned bright and unwavering.

Cereza had woken and was seated at the long table, eyes swollen but expression hard. Her grief had not dulled her fire, it had refined it. When she spoke, her words were sharp, decisive.

“We hit them fast and clean,” she said. “In and out. No warning. No chances for them to move her.”

Victor looked at her with something close to pride. Kailani sat silently, hands folded, while Lola and Pascacio whispered prayers in the corner.

Ramsey stood at her computer, screens casting a cool blue light on her face. “I’ve got coordinates. Dante’s operation is buried in an old fortress off the coast of Sardinia. He’s fortified, but not impenetrable.”

Dom crossed his arms, leaning forward. “Then we hit tonight.”

“No,” Cereza said. “We leave tonight. We hit at sunrise. Maximum light, better visibility. We take our advantage and amplify it.”

Dom nodded slowly. It was clear now why Jakob had loved her.

Veda placed a hand on Cereza’s shoulder. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

Cereza didn’t flinch. “This isn’t about being ready. This is about doing what has to be done.”

Veda watched her sister, a pang of admiration mixed with sorrow stirring in her chest. They had both been forged in chaos, but Cereza had found something, someone to anchor her. And now, that someone was gone.

Later that night, Veda sat alone on the back porch, staring out into the darkened jungle. The hum of crickets filled the silence. Her thoughts wandered back to childhood, to the rare moments of laughter with Cereza, to the nights they held hands under the covers during thunderstorms, whispering secrets like promises.

She heard footsteps behind her and didn’t have to turn to know who it was.

“You don’t sleep much, do you?” Dom asked, settling into the chair beside her.

Veda smirked faintly. “Neither do you.”

He chuckled, nodding. “Too much noise in my head.”

“Same.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the peace between them easy, unspoken. Veda turned to him.

“She really loved him.”

Dom nodded slowly. “He was a good man. Complicated... but good.”

“She lost a part of herself today.”

“She’s strong,” Dom said. “She’ll survive.”

Veda looked down at her hands, laced her fingers. “We’ve all lost something, haven’t we?”

“Yeah,” Dom said softly. “But we fight to hold on to what’s left.”

Part One

Tag: @christinabae

Part Three

[intogenshin]

The Roles of Atheist and Priest: Balance of Faith between Alhaitham and Cyno

The profoundest eternal questions are met only with a boundless and eternal silence

This line in Alhaitham’s teaser is a reference to a poem by Bengali poet Rabindranath Tagore in the collection titled Stray Birds.

Tagore’s work is deeply religious in nature (heh) as it is largely influenced by the creation myths of the Rig Veda.

The recurring theme of nature, present throughout the entirety of Stray Birds, expresses and explores the relationship between man and spirituality in the tradition of Indian literature:

(...) when Tagore writes of nature —of birds, trees, a singular blade of grass, a sunset, sunrise, a boat ride, a fading view of water— while all of these external objects belonging to the natural world may make Tagore appear much like western Romantic poets, such as Wordsworth or Yeats, Tagore’s mission is actually quite different. In Tagore, what is expressed is a thoughtful relationship of poet to sacred text, of poet to the mythical or cosmological origins of the world. In Tagore, love of nature equates at one level to love of God; for, in recognizing the worth of the natural world, one is giving assent to the fact that there is a God who created it. (...) in Stray Birds Tagore writes: “To-night there is a stir among the palm leaves, as well as in the sea Full Moon, like the heart throb of the world From what unknown sky hast thou carried in thy silence the aching secret of love?” The lines echo the concept from the creation hymns wherein the sacred text posits that no one knows how creation came to be because no one witnessed it except for the creator God itself, and who can truly know this God but to seek him? As if this were not enough, also in Stray Birds, we read Tagore’s development of this concept as he writes: ”God comes to me in the dusk of my evening with the flowers from my past kept fresh in his basket” This is the mind of a religious poet at work, not a Romantic poet.

—Love of Creation and Mysticism in Tagore’s Gitanjali and Stray Birds, by Paula Hayes

Silence is another major element of Tagore’s exploration of nature as the connection with god, which represents divine wisdom through introspection:

This power of silence is attributed to its heavenly origins. Silence is the voice of God, as well as the place where everyone finds and worships his god: ”God’s silence ripens man’s thoughts into speech” In another poem, this eternal silence of Heaven is juxtaposed with the eternal quest of earthly creatures, a process that affirms the superiority of the former as the ultimate province of trust, beyond the doctrines and divisions created by the mind with their ensuing doubt and uncertainty: ”What language is thine, O sea?” ”The language of eternal question” ”What language is thy answer, O sky?” ”The language of eternal silence” (...) Silence, therefore, is not merely a recurrent theme in the poems of Tagore, nor is it a distinct element that can be extracted from the rest of the poem. It is organically interwoven with other elements, establishing the unity of the poem, its coherence and its uniqueness as well.

—Language of eternal silence, by Muhhammad Hesham

In the poem referenced in Alhaitham’s teaser, the “eternal question” represents man’s quest to find meaning through spirituality, while the “eternal silence” represents introspection and a connection with the wisdom of God.

The role of eternal question fits a character like Alhaitham perfectly: one who seeks wisdom for personal fulfillment, but it is also one that questions this eternal silence —the word of god. One who raises questions against belief, not for the sake of negation, but understanding. An ethical atheist, if you will.

Alhaitham’s ideological worldview of individualism is inspired by the work of Max Stirner, originator of egoist anarchy. Stirner is highly critical of religion, but he also looks down on atheists of his time for replacing the god of western religion with morality and humanism. For him, true freedom can only be achieved through individualism.

Whether then the one God or the three in one. whether the Lutheran God or the être suprême or not God at all, but “Man,” may represent the highest essence, that makes no difference at all for him who denies the highest essence itself, for in his eyes those servants of a highest essence are one and all — pious people, the most raging atheist not less than the most faith-filled Christian.

—The Ego and Its Own, by Max Stirner

Stirner doesn’t seem concerned with denying the existence of god, but rather with the origin and care of his own desires, centering himself instead of “man” as a collective or an idea. He does not act for the good of anyone but himself (or that’s his ideal, at least).

Here’s where Haitham deviates from Stirner’s egoism. He’s not concerned with archons and he does favor individual comfort over Kaveh’s altruism, and he’s not afraid nor ashamed of trespassing conventional rules or institutional laws to get what he wants, but he does recognize the importance of order in society.

Sumeru is the nation ruled by the god of wisdom, so wisdom and knowledge can be understood as the fruit of worship for the archon. Akademiya rules are, much like in religion, a moral code that shapes the ideal believer and punishes those who break the order upheld under these rules. Funny enough, the Akademiya’s original Chinese name is (according to the wiki) Sumeru Institute of Religious Decree —the religious context is lost on the English translation.

Understanding the Akademiya as an allegorical religious institution, Cyno serves as a guardian of the principles and moral code of this church. His historical predecessor is none other than priest Kasala, after all, who was a faithful follower of the Scarlet King (that he calls his “eternal lord”) and later aided Rukkhadevata.

Cyno’s priest-like figure is a fair counterpart to Alhaitham’s atheist: when the ethical atheist raises questions, it is the duty of the priest to answer on behalf of the divine.

The eternal question, an introspective search for answers and meaning; the eternal silence, the wisdom of divine scripture.

Alhaitham and Cyno are the only characters in Sumeru having an association with the theme of silence, especially Cyno. Alhaitham through Tagore’s poem and the description in his default outfit in which a member of the Temple of Silence warns the listener not to bother him if he’s wearing his headphones; and Cyno through direct references in his lore as well as his official affiliation to the Temple.

Much like in Tagore’s poem, the exchange of question and silence is not a hostile one, but rather a conversation, a means for growth for both sides. In dialectics, an argument is held for the same reasons: when offering a thesis, it must be reasonably defended against an equally reasonable contradiction.

Putting these two characters who fulfill these specific roles with religious undertones in a storyline where they work together to overthrow a government, then I simply am reminded of Enjolras and Grantaire from Les Miserables.

YOU SEE they’re part of the revolutionary group that fights in the barricades.

Enjolras is completely driven by ideology, every aspect of his life revolves around his ideals of revolution and freedom to the point that he just isn’t approachable by his colleagues. He’s more a walking ideal than human. While Grantaire is a skeptic who refuses to believe in anything (that is, except Enjolras) (they’re canonically super gay, the author went out of his way to compare them to a bunch of gay Greek historical and mythical couples so go figure).

Grantaire is rather a self indulgent nihilist, but Stirner’s vibes of cynical egoism are there (just described through the eyes of someone who does favor altruism instead lmao):

All those words: rights of the people, rights of man, the social contract, the French Revolution, the Republic, democracy, humanity, civilization, religion, progress, came very near to signifying nothing whatsoever to Grantaire. He smiled at them. Scepticisn, that caries of the intelligence, had not left him a whole single idea. He lived with irony. This was his axiom: “There is but one certainty, my full glass.” He sneered at all devotion in all parties, the father as well as the brother.

Grantaire believes in nothing, which is why he’s in love with the personification of ideal and belief.

A skeptic who adheres to a believer is as simple as the law of complementary colors. That which we lack attracts us. No one loves the light like the blind man. (...) Grantaire, in whom writhed doubt, loved to watch faith soar in Enjolras. He had need of Enjolras. That chaste, healthy, firm, upright, hard candid nature charmed him, without his being clearly aware of it, and without the idea of explaining it to himself having occurred to him. He admired his opposite by instinct.

Their contrast is mainly ideological, with Grantaire barely participating in the revolutionary acts of the group, but (although lesmis seems to be heavily shaped by religious narratives, especially Valjean’s main storyline) the way Enjolras is described very much fits Cyno’s own commitment to his duty as the General Mahamatra:

Enjolras was a charming young man, who was capable of being terrible. He was angelically handsome. He was a savage Antinous. One would have said, to see the pensive thoughtfulness of his glance, that he had already, in some previous state of existence, traversed the revolutionary apocalypse. He possessed the tradition of it as though he had been a witness. He was acquainted with all the minute details of the great affair. A pontifical and warlike nature, a singular thing in a youth. He was an officiating priest and a man of war; from the immediate point of view, a soldier of the democracy; above the contemporary movement, the priest of the ideal

Enjolras role as a revolutionary is heavily colored by religious and military undertones.

For most of the story Grantaire is rejected by Enjolras, often scorned by his lack of commitment and his lifestyle. It is at the last moment when Enjolras is cornered by a fire squad after the barricade fails that Grantaire declares himself a Republican and volunteers to die with him. Enjolras ideals have not succeeded in his quest for liberation, but Grantaire offers him a last hope in leaving his skepticism to believe in those ideals. If a skeptic was capable of believing, then surely it was not in vain and many others would carry Enjolras beliefs beyond his tragical death. And in taking his hand Enjolras basically accepts his feelings because les mis is of course a yaoi

Grantaire had risen. The immense gleam of the whole combat which he had missed, and in which he had had no part, appeared in the brilliant glance of the transfigured drunken man. He repeated: "Long live the Republic!" crossed the room with a firm stride and placed himself in front of the guns beside Enjolras. "Finish both of us at one blow," said he. And turning gently to Enjolras, he said to him: "Do you permit it?" Enjolras pressed his hand with a smile. This smile was not ended when the report resounded. Enjolras, pierced by eight bullets, remained leaning against the wall, as though the balls had nailed him there. Only, his head was bowed. Grantaire fell at his feet, as though struck by a thunderbolt.

Either way, haino in sumeru aq did succeed in overthrowing Azar and lived to tell the tale. But, well, they didn’t need this exchange. Alhaitham understands the value of rules, of Cyno’s duty, as they cooperate with each other.

so anyway yea enjoltaire haino, atheist and priest, gay ideological opposites of faith working together to overthrow the government u get it

further readings:

On the Couple of Silence by hibarifish

Alhaitham and Egoist Anarchism by lotusparadisaea

Love of Creation and Mysticism in Tagore’s Gitanjali and Stray Birds by Paula Hayes

Language of eternal silence by Muhhammad Hesham

[schlatt-is-president]

"What tha'fuck?" J's voice was sort of slurred as he stared at the copy? Doppelganger? Of himself. He'd very recently been revived, so he was still... Unaware, of all of the changes that had occured recently.

And hey. This copy of him was kinda cute.

[lmao hey man...😁]

“Hey. A new Schlatt, sweet.” She hummed, giving him a sweet smile. “I’m Oves, or Veda.”

[ijustthinkevilunoisneat]

Pro wrestling is endlessly frustrating & heartbreaking. Use your voice to support the performers out there who continue to push for new, needed ideas

It’s the only way through

Lots of us don’t fit the mold - but history has proven the mold itself often needs to be shattered

— Veda Scott

[bluecube92]

Same Voice Actor #27

[mplanetleaf]

Time and Karma - Scientific Perspective | కాలం! కర్మం! | MPlanetLeaf

[redroomreflections]

Changing Tides Snippet ✨

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Note: this is just a small snippet to see if I should scrap or keep going. It’s about Natasha and R’s daughter getting really sick. Totally a crying fest. It has like two different povs so that’s been hard to get down.

The family gathered around the table, laughter echoing through the cabin's warm interior. Lark and Veda, their swimsuits still clinging to their damp skin, were beaming with the energy of their swim. Lark, however, shivered slightly, catching your observant eye.

Your voice soft and motherly, noticed Lark's chill and draped a warm blanket around her shoulders. "You're freezing, sweetie," you said, your protective instinct always at the ready.

Veda, ever the picture of defiance, declined the offer of a blanket. She was too busy digging into her burger, her appetite seemingly insatiable. Lark gingerly removed the pickles from her burger, gently sliding them over to Veda, who eagerly savored each one. The act revealed the clear distinction in their personalities. Veda perched with her legs pulled close to her chest, the very picture of casual and cool. Meanwhile, Lark, the meticulous one, swung her legs beneath her chair as she methodically disassembled her sandwich before artfully reconstructing it.

You and Natasha exchanged a quiet, knowing glance as you watched your daughters. You couldn't help but wonder if hot dogs might have been a more fitting choice for Lark, whose meticulous nature extended even to her mealtime habits.

Natasha, ever the voice of reason at the table, couldn't help but notice Veda's ravenous appetite. "Veda, slow down," she advised, her eyes filled with concern for her daughter's well-being.

However, it was you who playfully defended Veda's hearty meal. You chuckled and said, "The girls practically swam Olympic lengths out there. Veda needs all the strength she can get."

Veda's lips curved into a warm smile as she acknowledged your defense of her, though she also took heed of Natasha's gentle warning. Her pace slowed, and she ate as if she were raised with table manners.

Natasha, who had been rushing around the kitchen, finally settled into her seat, a contented smile on her face.

With a mischievous glint in her eye, Veda leaned in, her expression a mixture of curiosity and a hint of playfulness. She wiped ketchup from her mouth with the back of her hand. She only took a napkin when you tapped at her knees in reminder. "I have a question," she announced.

“We may have answers,” You shrugged.

“Where do babies come from?” Veda asked. Her nonchalance about it let you know she was completely serious. Lark, who’d only been half listening, raised her eyes. Seems she was interested in the answer too.

The question hung in the air, creating a moment of silence as you both exchanged surprised glances. Natasha was momentarily taken aback, her motherly instincts causing her to hesitate. You, on the other hand, seemed more amused than flustered, a subtle grin touching your lips.

Veda's question about where babies come from was a classic childhood inquiry, but it still caught you off guard.

“I feel like we’ve had this conversation several times,” Natasha tilts her head.

“Yeah, but not for real,” Veda shrugged. Veda's insistence continued, her determination unwavering. "I'm gonna be ten next year, Mama. Double digits. So I need to know the real truth."

Natasha took a deep breath and began, "Well, sweetie, most babies come from a very special process where a tiny cell from a woman and a tiny cell from a man come together to create a new life." She kept her tone gentle, aiming to explain the concept in an age-appropriate way.

You couldn't help but chime in, a playful twinkle in your eye. "It's like a puzzle, you know? Two pieces fitting together perfectly to make a baby."

Veda's brows furrowed in thought. "So, like a really, really small puzzle?" she asked.

You nodded with a chuckle. "Yes, a very small, intricate puzzle. And it's something beautiful and magical."

Veda seemed satisfied with the explanation, her curiosity appeased for the moment. "Okay, because Billy and Tommy told me it was called sex.”

You in the middle of taking a bite of your burger, had a near-comical moment. You almost choked on your food, your eyes widening in surprise as you coughed.

Natasha, quick to react, helped you take a sip of water to clear your throat. As you caught your breath, you couldn't help but shake your head in disbelief, your amusement evident.

“What’s sex?” Lark chimed in with her inquisitiveness. She had been just as confused by Veda's question and wore a quizzical expression on her face, mirroring her sister's curiosity and bafflement.

“Well,” You sighed, wiping your mouth with a napkin. “To talk about it, we’d have to go into detail about a lot more.” With a playful smirk, you began, "You know, girls, when you grow up, there are some pretty interesting changes that happen to your bodies. You begin to grow.” You gesture. “It’s sometimes happens all at once. Like—"

Veda, covering her ears with her hands, interrupted with a cringe. You’d informed her about periods the year before and it traumatized her ever since. "Mom, I don't think we need to hear this right now."

Lark, equally uncomfortable, followed suit by covering her ears. "Yeah, can we talk about something else, please?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at their reactions, your intention all along to make them squirm a bit. "Alright, alright," you relented, switching back to a more suitable topic. The girls sighed in relief, their expressions now reflecting their gratitude for returning to safer, more innocent conversations. Even if Veda was the one to begin it all.

[saebyeokbliss]

ONCE MORE TO SEE YOU— PART II.

synopsis: on a cold january day, you were worrying about the reason your girlfriend wasn’t texting back. when she finally does and asks to meet at your apartment, you’re met with heartbreak as she ends your relationship. no explanation. two years later, you run into her at a cafe with someone new. what are you to do? warnings: angst, saebyeok is lowkey a dick, familial trauma, arranged marriage mentions

pairing: sae-byeok x fem!reader

Two years.

That’s how long it had been since the night Sae-byeok shattered your heart with just four words. Since she walked out your door without a single glance back.

Time didn’t heal everything. It softened the sharp edges of the pain, dulled the ache enough to let you function, but the scars were still there. Some days, you didn’t notice them. Other days, it was like someone had ripped them wide open again.

You groaned as your alarm blared through your tiny apartment, pulling you out of the half-sleep you’d managed to get. The clock glared back at you, the red numbers reading 5:30 AM. You slapped the alarm off and rolled over, staring at the ceiling for a moment, steeling yourself for the day ahead.

Your mornings always started like this: too early, too tired, and too much on your mind. 

By 6:15 AM, you were out the door, a travel mug of cheap coffee in hand and your backpack slung over your shoulder. The bus ride to campus was long, but you used the time to skim through the notes you’d barely had time to review last night. 

You were in your third year of med school—arguably the hardest year—and it was beginning to take its toll. The lectures were endless, the exams brutal, and the clinical rotations left you drained in a way you hadn’t thought possible. 

But you had to push through. You’d worked too hard to get here. Giving up wasn’t an option.

Still, as you sat in the back of the lecture hall, your mind drifted—not to the professor’s voice or the slides on the projector, but to her. To Sae-byeok.

You hated that she still crept into your thoughts, uninvited and unwelcome. It wasn’t just the memories that haunted you; it was the questions. Why had she left? Why hadn’t she fought for what you had? Why hadn’t you been enough for her to stay?

You shook the thoughts away, forcing yourself to focus on the lecture. But it wasn’t long before the familiar ache settled in your chest, like it did every time you thought about her.

Your shift at the bookstore started at 4 PM, right after your last class of the day. It wasn’t glamorous, working part-time at a small shop near campus, but it paid the bills. Barely.

You arrived with just enough time to shove a granola bar into your mouth before clocking in. The work was monotonous—stocking shelves, ringing up customers, straightening displays—but it gave your mind something to focus on. Something other than the stress of med school and the emptiness you felt at the end of every day.

“Hey, you okay?” your coworker, Sun-Ja, asked as you rang up a customer’s purchase. She was the only one at the shop you’d grown close to, though even she didn’t know much about your life outside of work.

You forced a smile. “Yeah. Just tired.”

“You’re always tired,” Sun-Ja teased lightly, but her eyes softened. “You should take a day off. Like, an actual day off. Go do something fun.”

You laughed, though it held no real humor. “What’s that?”

Sun-Ja rolled her eyes. “I’m serious. You’re going to burn out if you keep going like this.”

You didn’t respond, because what could you say? It wasn’t like you had a choice. You needed the job, needed to keep up with school, needed to push through. There was no time for "fun."

By the time your shift ended at 9:30 PM, you were drained. But the day wasn’t over yet. You still had to call your sister, Veda, a weekly ritual that always left you feeling worse than before.

You sat on the edge of your bed, phone pressed to your ear, as your sister’s voice filled the quiet room. She was your parents’ golden child, the one who followed their expectations to the letter. Unlike you.

“They’re still upset with you,” she said, her tone clipped. “You know how much they wanted you to marry him. You embarrassed them.”

You clenched your jaw, the familiar anger bubbling up in your chest. “I wasn’t going to marry someone I didn’t love.”

“And look where that got you,” she snapped. “You’re killing yourself with school and work because you have no support. You could’ve had an easier life.”

“An easier life isn’t worth it if it means being miserable,” you shot back, your voice sharper than you intended.

Your sister sighed, the sound heavy with disappointment. “You’re so stubborn.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t have the energy to argue anymore. After a few moments of silence, she hung up, leaving you alone with the weight of her words.

By the time you finally crawled into bed, it was well past midnight. Your body ached, your mind was foggy, and your chest felt hollow. The apartment was silent, save for the hum of the heater kicking in.

You stared at the ceiling, your thoughts drifting back to Sae-byeok once again. You wondered where she was, what she was doing, if she was happy. If she ever thought about you.

And then, like every night, you told yourself to stop. To let her go. To move on.

But the truth was, you didn’t know how.

Here’s the continuation of Chapter 2, building up the tension of the cafe scene while giving insight into Sae-byeok’s life post-breakup and her relationship with Ji-yeong. This section transitions between the reader’s perspective and Sae-byeok’s, culminating in their first encounter after two years.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee greeted you as you stepped into the small cafe near your apartment. It was a rare indulgence for you—breakfast out. Most mornings, you barely had time to grab a granola bar as you rushed out the door, but today, you’d made a deal with yourself. Just one morning to sit, breathe, and maybe feel like a normal person before the chaos of your life swallowed you whole again.

You ordered a simple Americano and a croissant, then found a seat near the window. The snow outside had started to melt, leaving gray slush on the sidewalks, but the cold still lingered in the air. You pulled your coat tighter around you as you sipped your coffee, letting the warmth seep into your body.

For the first time in what felt like weeks, you allowed yourself to relax. To sit with the quiet. To not think about exams or work or family.

You didn’t notice the door chime behind you.

Mornings were always quiet for Sae-byeok. Too quiet.

She’d learned to live with the silence, though. It filled the spaces where you used to be, where your voice, your laugh, and your warmth used to echo. She’d told herself it was better this way. Safer. But some days, the silence felt suffocating.

Her days had fallen into a routine over the past two years. She woke up early, made breakfast for Cheol, and helped him get ready for school. After that, she’d head to work or run errands. The monotony was comforting in a way—something to keep her mind occupied, something to keep her from thinking too much.

Ji-yeong was often there to fill the gaps. They had met during the games, forming an unlikely bond in the face of death. When it was all over, when they’d walked away with blood on their hands and more money than they knew what to do with, Ji-yeong had stayed. She had no family, no home to go back to, so she became a part of Sae-byeok’s life. 

They weren’t together—not in the way people assumed. Ji-yeong was like a sister to her, someone who understood her in a way no one else could. They’d both lost so much, seen so much. It was an unspoken agreement to lean on each other, to share the weight of their survival.

Cheol adored Ji-yeong, and for that, Sae-byeok was grateful. She had been terrified that he would grow up feeling as alone as she did, but with Ji-yeong in their lives, their little family felt fuller. Not complete—never complete—but better.

“Can I get a muffin?” Cheol’s voice broke Sae-byeok out of her thoughts as they walked toward the cafe near their apartment.

“We’ll see,” she replied, ruffling his hair as the three of them stepped inside.

You were halfway through your croissant when you heard the sound of a child’s laughter. It was faint, nearly drowned out by the clatter of cups and the quiet hum of conversation around you, but it made you glance up.

Your eyes swept the room briefly before returning to your coffee. You didn’t think much of it—just another family stopping in for breakfast.

But then, a small voice called out. “Noona!”

You froze, your coffee cup halfway to your lips, as a boy barreled toward you. It took a moment for your mind to catch up, but when it did, your heart dropped.

“Cheol?” you asked in curiosity, tilting your head.

He threw his arms around you, hugging you tightly. “Noona! I missed you!” His voice was bright, filled with the kind of innocent joy that made your chest ache. 

You hadn’t seen Cheol since the breakup. Back then, you used to visit him with Sae-byeok at the orphanage, bringing little gifts and spending afternoons playing games with him. You had adored him, and for a time, it seemed he felt the same.

Before you could respond, a sharp voice cut through the air. “Cheol!”

You looked up, your stomach twisting as Sae-byeok approached, her expression dark. Ji-yeong trailed behind her, her face carefully neutral.

Cheol pulled back, looking sheepish as Sae-byeok stopped in front of you. Her eyes flicked to you for a brief moment before narrowing at Cheol.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her tone clipped. “You can’t just run off like that.”

Cheol pouted, glancing between the two of you. “But it’s Noona! I missed her.”

Sae-byeok’s jaw tightened. “Go back to the table,” she said firmly. When he hesitated, she added, “Now, Cheol.”

He gave you one last look before trudging back to where Ji-yeong was waiting. The cafe suddenly felt too warm, too small, as Sae-byeok turned her attention to you.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice low and sharp.

You blinked, stunned by the hostility in her tone. “I—I was just having breakfast.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Stay away from him.”

Her words hit like a slap, leaving you momentarily speechless. “What? Sae-byeok, I wasn’t—”

“I mean it,” she snapped, cutting you off. “Whatever this is, whatever you think this is—stay out of it. Just back off.”

Her words were cold, final, and they left no room for argument. Before you could respond, she turned and walked back to the table, leaving you sitting there with your heart pounding and your hands trembling.

You watched as she sat down next to Cheol, her posture stiff, her face unreadable. Ji-yeong glanced at you briefly, her expression almost apologetic, before turning her attention back to the boy.

You swallowed hard, the taste of coffee suddenly bitter in your mouth. The quiet morning you'd hoped for was shattered, leaving you with nothing but the familiar ache in your chest and the weight of Sae-byeok’s words hanging over you.

taglist: @monroesturnns

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[talonabraxas]

“Tat Tvam Asi” – “Thou Art That”

OM - Meta Eye Talon Abraxas

THE most sacred mystic syllable of the Vedas is Aum. It is the first letter of the Sanskrit alphabet, and by some it is thought to be the sound made by a new born child when the breath is first drawn into the lungs. The daily prayers of the Hindu Brahmin are begun and ended with it, and the ancient sacred books say that with that syllable the gods themselves address the most Holy One.

In the Chandogya Upanishad its praises are sung in these words:

Let a man meditate on the syllable OM, called the udgitha, ...it is the best of all essences, the highest, deserving the highest place, the eighth.

It is then commanded to meditate on this syllable as the breath, of two kinds, in the body - the vital breath and the mere breath in the mouth or lungs, for by this meditation come knowledge and proper performance of sacrifice. In verse 10 is found:

Now, therefore, it would seem to follow that both he who knows the true meaning of OM, and he who does not, perform the same sacrifice. But this is not so, for knowledge and ignorance are different. The sacrifice which a man performs with knowledge, faith, and the Upanishad is more powerful.

Outwardly the same sacrifice is performed by both, but that performed by him who has knowledge and has meditated on the secret meaning of OM partakes of the qualities inhering in OM, which need just that knowledge and faith as the medium through which they may become visible and active. If a jeweler and a mere ploughman sell a precious stone, the knowledge of the former bears better fruit than the ignorance of the latter.

Shankaracharya in his Sharir Bhashya dwells largely on OM, and in the Vayu Purana a whole chapter is devoted to it. Now as Vayu is air, we can see in what direction the minds of those who were concerned with that purana were tending. They were analyzing sound, which will lead to discoveries of interest regarding the human spiritual and physical constitution. In sound is tone, and tone is one of the most important and deep reaching of all natural things. By tone, the natural man and the child express the feelings, just as animals in their tones make known their nature. The tone of the voice of the tiger is quite different from that of the dove, as different as their natures are from each other, and if the sights, sounds, and objects in the natural world mean anything, or point the way to any laws underlying these differences, then there is nothing puerile in considering the meaning of tone.

The Padma Purana says:

"The syllable OM is the leader of all prayers; let it therefore be employed in the beginning of all prayers," and Manu in his laws ordains: "A Brahmin, at the beginning and end of a lesson on the Vedas, must always pronounce the syllable OM, for unless OM precede, his learning will slip away from him, and unless it follows, nothing will be long retained."

The celebrated Hindoo Raja, Ramohun Roy, in a treatise on this letter says:

"OM, when considered as one letter, uttered by the help of one articulation, is the symbol of the supreme Spirit. "One letter (OM) is the emblem of the Most High, Manu II, 83."

But when considered as a triliteral word consisting of (a),(u),(m), it implies the three Vedas, the three states of human nature, there three divisions of the universe, and the three deities - Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva, agents in the creation, preservation, and destruction of this world; or, properly speaking, the three principal attributes of the Supreme Being personified in those three deities. In this sense it implies, in fact, the universe controlled by the Supreme Spirit."

Now we may consider that there is pervading the whole universe a single homogeneous resonance, sound, or tone which acts, so to speak, as the awakener or vivifying power, stirring all the molecules into action. This is what is represented in all languages by the vowel a, which takes precedence of all others. This is the word, the verbum, the Logos of St. John of the Christians, who says: "In the beginning was the Word, and the word was with God, and the word was God." This is creation, for without this resonance or motion among the quiescent particles, there would be no visible universe. That is to say, upon sound, or, as the Aryans called it, Nada Brahma (divine resonance), depends the evolution of the visible from the invisible.

But this sound a, being produced, at once alters itself into au, so that the second sound u is that one made by the first in continuing its existence. The vowel u, which in itself is a compound one, therefore represents preservation. And the idea of preservation is contained also in creation, or evolution, for there could not be anything to preserve, unless it had first come into existence.

If these two sounds, so compounded into one, were to proceed indefinitely, there would be of course no destruction of them. But it is not possible to continue the utterance further than the breath, and whether the lips are compressed or the tongue pressed against the roof of the mouth, or the organs behind that used, there will be in the finishing of the utterance the closure or m sound, which among the Aryans had the meaning of stoppage. In this last letter there is found the destruction of the whole word or letter. To reproduce it a slight experiment will show that by no possibility can it be begun with m, but that au invariably commences even the utterance of m itself. Without fear of successful contradiction, it can be asserted that all speech begins with au, and the ending, or destruction of speech, is in m.

The word "tone" is derived from the Latin and Greek words meaning sound and tone. In the Greek the word "tonos" means a "stretching" or "straining." As to the character of the sound, the word "tone" is used to express all varieties, such as high, low, grave, acute, sweet, and harsh sounds. In music it gives the peculiar quality of the sound produced, and also distinguishes one instrument from another; as rich tone. reedy tone, and so on. In medicine, it designates the state of the body, but is there used more in the signification of strength, and refers to strength or tension. It is not difficult to connect the use of the word in medicine with the divine resonance of which we spoke, because we may consider tension to be the vibration, or quantity of vibration, by which sound is apprehended by the ear; and if the whole system gradually goes down so that its tone is lowered without stoppage, the result will at last be dissolution for that collection of molecules. In painting, the tone also shows the general drift of the picture, just as it indicates the same thing in morals and manners. We say, "a low tone of morals, an elevated tone of sentiment, a courtly tone of manners," so that tone has a signification which is applied universally to either good or bad, high or low. And the only letter which we can use to express it, or symbolize it, is the a sound, in its various changes, long, short, and medium. And just as the tone of manners, of morals, of painting, of music, means the real character of each, in the same way the tones of the various creatures, including man himself, mean or express the real character; and all together joined in the deep murmur of nature go to swell the Nada Brahma, or Divine resonance, which at last is heard as the music of the spheres.

Meditation on tone, as expressed in this Sanskrit word OM, will lead us to a knowledge of the secret Doctrine. We find expressed in the merely mortal music the seven divisions of the divine essence, for as the microcosm is the little copy of the macrocosm, even the halting measures of man contain the little copy of the whole, in the seven tones of the octave. From what we are led to the seven colors, and so forward and upward to the Divine radiance which is the Aum. For the Divine Resonance, spoken of above, is not the Divine Light itself. The Resonance is only the outbreathing of the first sound of the entire Aum. This goes on during what the Hindoos call a Day of Brahma, which, according to them, last a thousand ages.4 It manifests itself not only as the power which stirs up and animates the particles of Universe, but also in the evolution and dissolution of man, of the animal and mineral kingdoms, and of solar systems. Among the Aryans it was represented in the planetary system by Mercury, who has always been said to govern the intellectual faculties and to be the universal stimulator. Some old writers have said that it is shown through Mercury, amongst mankind, by the universal talking of women.

And wherever this Divine Resonance is closed or stopped by death or other change, the Aum has been uttered there. These utterances of Aum are only the numerous microcosmic enunciations of the Word, which is uttered or completely ended, to use the Hermetic or mystical style of language, only when the great Brahm stops the outbreathing, closes the vocalization, by the m sound, and thus causes the universal dissolution. This universal dissolution is known in the Sanskrit and in the secret Doctrine as the Maha Pralaya, Maha being "the great," and Pralaya "dissolution." And so, after thus arguing, the ancient Rishees of India said: "Nothing is begun or ended; everything is changed, and that which we call death is only a transformation." In thus speaking they wished to be understood as referring to the manifested universe, the so-called death of a sentient creature being only a transformation of energy, or a change of the mode and place of manifestation of the Divine Resonance. Thus early in the history of the race the doctrine of conservation of energy was known and applied. The Divine Resonance, or the au sound, is the universal energy, which is conserved during each Day of Brahma, and at the coming on of the great Night is absorbed again into the whole. Continually appearing and disappearing it transforms itself again and again, covered from time to time by a veil of matter called its visible manifestation, and never lost, but always changing itself from one form to another. And herein can be seen the use and beauty of the Sanskrit. Nada Brahma is Divine Resonance; that is, after saying Nada, if we stopped with Brahm, logically we must infer that the m sound at the end of Brahm signified the Pralaya, thus confuting the position that the Divine Resonance existed, for if it had stopped it could not be resounding. So they added an a at the end of the Brahm, making it possible to understand that as Brahma the sound was still manifesting itself. But time would not suffice to go into this subject as it deserves, and these remarks are only intended as a feeble attempt to point out the real meaning and purpose of Aum.

For the above reasons, and out of the great respect we entertain for the wisdom of the Aryans, was the symbol adopted and placed upon the cover of this magazine and at the head of the text.

With us OM has signification. It represents the constant undercurrent of meditation, which ought to be carried on by every man, even while engaged in the necessary duties of this life. There is for every conditioned being a target at which the aim is constantly directed. Even the very animal kingdom we do not except, for it, below us, awaits its evolution into a higher state; it unconsciously perhaps, but nevertheless actually, aims at the same target.

"Having taken the bow, the great weapon, let him place on it the arrow, sharpened by devotion. Then, having drawn it with a thought directed to that which is, hit the mark, O friend, - the Indestructible. OM is the bow, the Self is the arrow, Brahman is called its aim. It is to be hit by a man who is not thoughtless; and then as the arrow becomes one with the target, he will become one with Brahman. Know him alone as the Self, and leave off other words. He is the bridge of the Immortal. Meditate on the Self as OM. Hail to you that you may cross beyond the sea of darkness."

AUM!

Hadji-Erinn