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Ricardo Garrett
Ricardo Garrett

Wicked Fate By V. Simran !FULL!



In this blockbuster fantasy series, perfect for fans of Kingdom of the Wicked and Iron Widow, fate binds two Black teenagers together as they journey into a magical jungle to hunt down a vicious monster. Now in paperback!




Wicked Fate by V. Simran



But Briseis is not the only one who wants the Heart, and her enemies will stop at nothing to fulfill their own ruthless plans. The fates tell of a truly dangerous journey, one that could end in more heartache, more death. Strengthened by the sisterhood of ancient magic, can Briseis harness her power to save the people she loves most?


They say: Let new actions be performed in the name of the Master, the individual working in the capacity of an agent only. The new actions, done in this spirit, will not be binding. The fate actions will have been undergone by the time the life comes to an end; the reserve actions saints partly take upon themselves and partly are undergone by the devotee, as the saints think proper.


The current acts like a magnet on the spirit. It attracts the spirit to itself, and if the spirit were not covered by the rust of mind and matter, it would go up like a shot. The rust of attachments and impressions is removed by repetition (simran). The repetition of thoughts of the journey within replaces our everyday thoughts. Then the mind, instead of wandering outside, begins to take rest and peace within; and when it goes in, the spirit also goes with it; and when the spirit is in, the current in its turn pulls it up. Once Trikuti has been crossed (this will only be when all karmic accounts are settled), the soul never goes back into transmigration. It will go up to merge in its origin.Maharaj Sawan Singh, Spiritual Gems


You know that all our life is, in fact, the adjustment of our karmic account. It is difficult to say what is for our good. Better it is to leave everything in the hands of the Lord, and to be happy at what he does. Please do not feel perturbed at all. Turn to bhajan and simran, and you will be happy by abiding in the will of the Lord. View all your surroundings and relations as if this world was meant for adjustment of our accounts with them. Thank the Lord for what he has bestowed upon you, and keep your mind in bhajan and simran.


Give up all feeling of depression and live a joyous life, fully relaxed and thanking the Lord for the great gift he has conferred on you. Keep your thoughts in simran and bhajan and see what happiness you will find within yourself. Do not worry about anything in this life, which is all an unpleasant dream. The real life lies beyond, where your Master awaits you.


As we are often reminded in satsang, simran must be done with love to be effective. Repeating the names with a lack of attention will not be effective. Only devoted simran, simran repeated with love, can quieten the mind. Maharaj Sawan Singh in Philosophy of the Masters, Vol. IV, says:


The principle of the karmic law, or action and reaction, has been described in the Adi Granth in terms of pralabdh or fate karmas. It has been said that we are all helpless in the face of our fate karmas. Whatever a man does as a result of his pralabdh, he does under the influence of his fate karmas. Such is the irrevocable law of the negative power.


Satvik attributes can be derived not just from the food itself but from the way in which the food is handled and prepared. As Great Master points out, it is so beneficial to carry out simran whilst preparingfood. And why would we not want to celebrate this pleasant activity with the deeper pleasure of remembering our Master? The cookbook Introduction referred to above has something to say about this:


Working in a semiconductor industry has been difficult and money tough to come by. All the ancestral property has gone to Manoj and Seema stands like a goat to be slaughtered by an unknown man, one of the many she's to be auctioned off to. She hasn't looked into the eyes of any of these men, she doesn't care. She's living in a house that isn't hers. It belongs to Manoj and she paid the rent. Money would have been easier, although she doesn't have any. But she has paid the rent to his sadistic pervertism. Maybe she would have walked out, maybe she should have the day her parents died; but now it's only a regret. She's not ready to walk out anymore neither does she plan to let him go. He tried to choose her fate, stealing the moments he could from her life like a vulture tearing through her skin. The stench of death though never existed anywhere in her breath or viscera. He had made a grave mistake and she planned to send him where he belonged. She had excelled as far as she could in the conventional family she grew up in; with exceptional plans to start a business in solar power to move towards a more sustainable developmental goal, she had dreamt of a world free of corruption. With the hope to start a successful business and gain power, she had gathered knowledge from all angles owing to the free time she had since she was made to drop out of school after her brother accused her of stealing money from home to go on dates with a boyfriend when their parents noticed a bundle missing. There had been no protests from her side about the time she took to get back after school. She couldn't afford to let them unnecessarily suspect her friend who had been helping her understand some concepts after school. The need to get out just felt stronger and that gave her the strength to fight for her current job in the semiconductor industry. She had learnt a lot about the prerequisites to get into solar power and had already built some trustworthy contacts. The responsibility of the housework and her job all lay on her and she was expected not to feel any pain or emotion, she was not to see it as her right to. Manoj didn't quite know her as well as he thought and that was a choice she had made as a kid. He saw her as a timid person who could be manipulated as per his will. He tormented her as he see fit, took what little money she earned and lived in a house cleaned by her eating the food she cooked. The patient, opportunistic woman that she was didn't sit down to lament her misery but only planned towards the ideas she believed in and unfortunately for Manoj, she didn't believe in the existence of people as low as him. There was no need to return the pain, just to take what she deserved. Thallium, she had learnt was a potent solution. Colorless, odorless and tasteless but the most wonderful flavor she had ever added into her recipes. She for once felt joy in her cooking; and Manoj ate happily, like the pig he was. It was slow and she was patient, as she was careful. It was ruled out as a natural death. The people pleasing habits of that man had finally paid off her loans. As she stood by the funeral pyre of her last 'family', her gaze focused on the ferocious fire that engulfed the last of her obstacles. She stood there as everyone gave their condolences and left, in celebration, looking at the gentle flames and the ashes existing together. Out of the ashes, rose a gentle smell of burning human flesh, toned down from the strong stench and the aroma tickled her nose like a chef's masterpiece. She had finally learnt the art of flambéing and could taste the aftermath of where her dish would take her. This woman who stood her victory with a neutral, tired expression would go on to be the future of energy in the country and dominate the already existent fuel sources to work in her favor.


Ashima could never forget that day, the fateful day when a thoughtless act of cruelty gave birth to a little revolution. She cannot say confidently if what she had witnessed was not a dream. If a dream, what a strange one it was, to have shaped the present so. If reality, stranger still, for how could what she had witnessed be real?


The keys dug into his skin as he held them tightly, making sure he made little noise while opening his flat door. It was already 11 pm and the neighbours must have surely been asleep. Raghav loosened his tie which had been suffocating him since the morning, and dropped himself down on the not so comfortable couch. Taking deep breaths and stretching, bursting some knuckles, he got up to freshen up. After all, it was a tiring day and he needed to finish his daily schedule. Living alone was never an issue for Raghav, but now the loneliness weighed upon him like a huge stone. But somehow deep down, he was afraid of being with someone. The thought itself put him in a serious conversation with himself, thrashing him back to ground zero. Nevertheless, he sat back on the sofa, with a plate of chopped fruits ; them tasting stale and sugar less. His eyes were eager to find something to ponder upon, wandered around his room, as he chewed his tasteless fruits. Gladly, the front page of a popular magazine caught his eyes."Out of the ashes, rose the fearless - the account of a woman who bravely broke the shards of domestic abuse to soar up as a successful entrepreneur."His heart skipped a beat when he glimpsed the image of the lady on the page. Her eyes seemed to be fixed on him pinning down his thoughts and anxiety. It was definitely not a strange face. He sighed as he picked up the magazine. He quickly shifted his eyes from left to right on the magazine page, just to get a clear picture of the content. "It was in the year 2018 that Kiran was admitted into a government hospital completely bleeding and losing a lot of blood. Although she was sub concious, she kept repeating the name of her husband and told about the domestic abuse. Kiran Pushpa was fortunate enough to have the entire media and the country with her who helped her voice the story loudly. Luckily, with the help of the best advocates, she was able to win the case. In 2019, Kiran founded an NGO, for helping the victims of domestic abuse becoming an inspiration for many women who are forced to be submissive in order to be a better wife, mother and daughter."He closed the magazine tightly and threw it to a corner of his room. Memories flashed through his mind, the ones which he had been struggling to cover up at a small corner of his brain since the last 2 years. The dark days which changed everything. He leaned down on the cushion and closed his eyes trying to bury the emotions back. But disturbing sounds echoed in his head on loop, not willing to turn back.He couldn't even imagine, his brother, Pankaj, dared to do such a crime. That night, when he came back from college, he was flabbergasted to see his drunk brother beside a bleeding Kiran, pieces of the expensive vase lying on the floor. There wasn't even a hint of remorse on his brother's face. Pankaj just stood dumb, looking down on his wife, completely stoned. It was when Raghav came that he took her to a hospital and got the treatment done. He had no other choice, than to oppose Pankaj, with a heavy heart and a weak mind. Yes, his sister in law was stubborn and his brother was exhausted of the relationship. But never in the universe he would guess his calm and understanding brother would even try hitting someone. He admitted that Pankaj drank out of pressure of work and marriage. A person whom he had idolized and worshipped, whom he had believed and loved, broke his faith and put him in the shackles of loneliness. It was already two years since the tragedy and Raghav didn't wish to visit Pankaj, in the least. He would not be able to bear if the truth would come out to be different. He heard from a relative a month ago that he had been transferred to a mental institution due to ceaseless violent behaviour towards inmates and guards. His vision was blurred by tears and soon he was weeping. Ashes in the form of tears, the absence of Pankaj burning inside him. He had no other choice than to sail on with life, the way it was going on. He was powerless to alter the past, nor the present. Being a brother of a domestic abuser, nothing good would come his way, at least not now. He laid down flat and stared at the ceiling fan. Since the two years he only got hostile looks from people, just like they did to Pankaj. But somehow he knew, as time flies, everything would settle back in. He was going on just because of the hope of a better tomorrow. He knew nothing would be like the old times, but all the plight could change for the good. Anyway, his mind came back to the present, and he shook off the thoughts for now. The fruits which he couldn't eat because of the bitterness laid there in the bowl. He looked at it and kept it aside out of his view. The magazine which he had fiercely hauled, was still there; the face of Kiran upside down. With a smile on his face, the first one in the entire day, he was pulled back by heavy sleep."Why do you always blame me for everything?" Pankaj shouted but made sure he was low enough to not attract anyone's attention. "So whom should I blame? Your stupid brother who feed on your money and my energy?" Kiran shouted back.Pankaj sat down on the sofa, his hands on his head, confused as to how to calm down. Kiran was mumbling something inaudible continuously. All these fights were not at all new for both of them. He had become sick of all the arguments which steered anger and anxiety, making him drink more. "You won't listen to me, right? I can't live with your small earnings. A drunkard like you are an utter failure. Now you will see." She ran past him to the nearest table, where the vase was kept. Her each step inducing curiosity and tension in Pankaj's mind. He stood up suddenly to step ahead and stop her, but it was too late. She had already picked up the vase and started to hit herself vigorously. Once, twice, till she made sure she bled enough. His head swooned and he felt nauseated. Blood and shards of glass spread on the floor but all he could do was stand paralyzed. She cried and cursed him, sometimes laughed like a mad woman, lying on the damp floor. Pankaj really wished Raghav didn't come. He should not see the drama and all the mess. But who are capable enough to stop their fate? His beloved brother did come and was taken aback by the sight.He couldn't justify anything to Raghav, neither did he say what did Kiran do. He knew his life was over and there was no going back. Nobody would question a woman's accusation of a man. Raghav brought the cops even if he didn't want to, after taking Kiran to the nearest hospital, but was stunned to see Pankaj standing just the way they left him, not even an inch away. He neither did try to resist the police nor hesitate but quietly went with them.Everyday since then, he felt like his brain was gnawing itself. He used to cry and be secluded from others, and regrettably Raghav also seemed to abandon him. Pankaj realised the whole story was just a matter of joke for the public, who just wanted to make a laughing stock out of them. 'They would eventually forget.' He thought everyday. The bold black letters of a newspaper grab the attention of those ignorant people, who just want some gossip to talk about. As the headlines change, so do the heated topics for those people. 041b061a72


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