Chapter 11: Trimurti

I was in a blackness: I say this awkward sentence because that is all that I can come up with to describe where I was. That I saw a tiny spec of light. Than another. Soon many. I was falling… the stars (that is indeed what they were) spun around: voices, millions of voices…billions of voices all speaking simultaneously, but it was far from discombobulating, it was quite comforting: this vastness of space occupied by soothing voices. Suddenly I landed gently on nothingness, as if an invisible plateau had been erected for me to stand, and I sat in the square: in each corner sat a figure, though they were bathed in shadow, and I caught only snippets of color: blue skin…than peach skin…and many colors, felt their eyes upon me. For the first time in my life I felt…terrified: what fate was this? Was this hell? I wished I had been armed. But soon one spoke, and his voice was not harsh or menacing, but gentle, "Welcome Sidnay, we have been expecting you." On the horizon of my vision (if space can be said to have horizons, but that is a debate for another time) a meteor arced gracefully by, its blue tail had an eerie glow to it, casting a pail light over my companions.

The Buddha was not as I had expected him, nor was Shiva, Lord Brahma or Vishnu. The Buddha was very fat…and at the same time painfully thin; as if I closed one eye and opened another he were thin…than fat: overindulgent…and than acetic. Shiva was both very angry and gentle at the same time. Only Brahma exuded an overwhelming complacence which soothed me, Vishnu seemed deep in his (or should I say 'its') own thoughts, deeply meditative. Vishnu spoke next though, "It is beautiful is it not? Eternal. Magestic. Such is love. Our love is eternal, universal, and endless."

Shiva began next in a voice that was at once menacing and soothing, "It is a pity that destiny dictates that all will be destroyed."

I was shocked: such an open admittance of the inevitable, and again I was swept up in the beauty of all around me: The planets seemed magnified, more luminescent, the stars more dazzling. I felt anger rising: what beast could destroy such beauty. Lord Brahma smiled, "I sense your anger, but I am puzzled why. Forgive me of this please, it has only been 1 million years since I created this for Him, but your kind have always perplexed and confused me."

"Without destruction, creation can not occur. With out darkness there can be no light, and without light there can be no darkness. Do you understand?" again, the angel and demon locked in eternal combat, turned into a Yin Yang before my eyes, and the Buddha nodded.

"A flower must die in order for the fruit to grow. A seed must disappear for the tree to spring."

"It matters very little in the end. Fate decides all." said Shiva again. "But you must decide what that is. There are many paths for one to follow, each has their own fate. And besides, if you can look objectively at life, you can notice some interesting parallels."

"Decide my own fate?" Sid asked puzzled, "Follow my paths? How do I find the paths if the way is obscured by a wall?"

"You attack that wall, until a path is clear."

"What of Ahimsa? What of non-violence? Are these not what you proclaim so boldly?" I was beginning to feel irritated: the dreamlike state was beginning to shimmer with dazzling colors a kaleidoscopic array of lights, textures, sounds all pushing and pressing on me.

Brahma smiled and bowed slightly, "Ahh. Now I understand: you are caught between to great forces; that of peace, and that of aggression. On one level you are a pacifist, but you are also vampire, a creature of violence. Perhaps it is time you meet your spirit guides…"

There was a throbbing, pulsing sound, and for a single, breathtaking moment he could see the entire cosmic array of levels to Nirvana: levels of angels and demons, some fighting, but the higher the levels got, the angels and devils were harmony: there were sprawling Hindu gods, thousands of them, all bowing to some mysterious course, all beautiful and yet terrifying. For one split second he felt, and experienced Nirvana: total enlightenment. The Trimurti smiled upon him and bowed, "Go from herewith the blessing of God. Continue your journey traveler." I was moving from the astral platform, rising, soaring, and yet, the sensation of falling slowly or descending, and I felt myself land on solid ground.

A massive wall, stretching for as far as I could see huge wooden gates: they opened, and an angel walked out smiling, "Welcome Sidnay. Welcome to Valhalla. If you would just like to follow me…"

Valhalla was nothing I could have imagined it to be: there were no evil spirits battling with massive, muscular and armored Berserkers.

He was being led along a long hallway which dissected a large courtyard: a low wall lined both sides, and large archways opening onto the courtyard. He could see them now: Julius Caesar standing and chatting with Oda Nobunaga, Napoleon Bonaparte and Alexander the Great playing Risk, George Patton chatting with, who Sid thought was, Xenophon, Togukawa Ieyasu writing a poem…his father who smiled and waved as Sid passed, before returning to his game of chess with Genghis Khan.

They reached the end of the corridor, and the angel opened another hair of wooden doors, "Please enter. Your guides await you…" Through the doors was pitch black, nothingness that could be perceived: it was not only perceived it radiated. I felt hesitant to enter, but the kind smile on the angels face reassured me enough to compose myself to enter: after all, if this was the after life, what was left to lose?

I don't know how, but I only had the realization that I was not walking, nor moving…nor even upright. I was sitting in a circle of light, upon a wooden floor: all round us was darkness: sold darkness, as if it were an impenetrable wall. I say 'us' because I was not alone. Sitting on a mat across from me was a man: he was not particularly handsome: his face was obviously Japanese…or Asian. A katana was laid out horizontally in front of him, its black sheath almost a dividing line between them He bore signs on his face of severe skin problems: acne perhaps? His short Black hair was unkempt, he looked…like a wild man, although he sat composed and blinked at Sid. This was a man whom he had seen many times in ancient Japanese portraits, and Sid started up as he recognized the face, astonished.

The samurai bowed. "Miyamoto Musashi."

((Normally I would cut it off there, as it is a natural stopping point, but I want to get through this. All will be illuminated in good time))

Sid was speechless, shocked: the Greatest swordsman ever to come out of Japan, the man who fought 60 duels and was never defeated once, survived several battlefields…the man who had died 400 years ago… the renowned poet and artist…both Yin and Yang…the essence of a Samurai.

"You are my…"

"No, you are me." Musashi replied, "And, you are you. Perhaps I should explain: when someone wishes to be reincarnated, they choose the body of a person they feel most attached too, but those bodies also have souls, therefore they become a mixture of both, but since the two souls are so similar in their basis of ideals, that they almost are always indistinguishable. Hence you are me and you, at once."

It made no sense, and yet at once Sid knew it to be true: there were too many parallels. Both were self reliant, both artistically skilled, both warriors, both ardent non conformists.

"I…what…I understand…"

"Sidnay… I am only a guide: ultimately I can offer advice, but it is only my side speaking: there are many ways for which a warrior to manifest his spirit: whether he applies it to warlike or peaceful ends, both are equally powerful, and both are still warriors, and ultimately, it is YOUR decision to make. You're fated for great things…and trying things. You have two paths set before you." To the left of them another rectangle of light shone, n the middle was a raise piece of floor and on it, sat two objects on racks: one was a Guitar, the other a Sword. Sidnay, your future is defined by these two tools. I feel that in the end you will see that these tools have more in common than you could possibly imagine… but which will you choose? How will you manifest your destiny?"

((It is here that everything gets more complex. Now, mainly because I couldn't decide which path I liked more in my day dreams, the path will split into two distinct paths: one will be where Sid chooses the Guitar, the other where he chooses Sword: read whichever you want to, or both! Crazy shit is going to hit the insanity fan!

I apologize now for my muddled, and probably difficult, wording and sentences which I use. This is simply a reflection that, at times, I am unable to transfer my exact feelings, thoughts and visions onto paper. The English language is very confining. It all leads to a rather boring read, so I'm sorry my readers, I will try to spice things up. Frankly I'm surprised I've gotten so many supporters: surprised and pleased! Please Review my story, and if you have any suggestions for plot lines or inprovements, please dont hesitate to state them!))