The Prime Minister, given my special powers to get into the mind of anyone, asks me for favors. He says I could solve the problem of Kashmir for the benefit of the country. His primary focus is on the terrorists of Kashmir and he asks me if I could get into their minds. I say I have no idea how to get into their minds. He tells me the head of the investigative unit would take me into their minds. I had to know what was going on in their minds. I accept the challenge, sipping tea, and smoking cigarettes, at the shop outside the campus. The song ‘Maa tujhe salaam, Vande Mataram,’ by A.R. Rehman is playing in my mind.

I am taken through the lanes of Kashmir. I move through the roads, the bazaars, the street lights, and the mosques. Something is taking me forward in my mind as I am sitting like an idol on a stone slab. Finally, they take me inside a house. There are a few people sitting on a bed and few chairs. My mind enters the mind of one of them, a young man with a tea cup in his hand. Now I am in his mind.

I cannot hear any of his thoughts. It is all beeping sounds. Everybody is quiet in my mind, eager to know what I can take out from the terrorist’s mind. I finally hear him saying that he wants to go meet his people in some valley. The chief of the investigating agency asks me to start talking to him and persuade him to surrender. He asks me to insert the thought of surrender in his mind. This surprises people in my mind. Can I do that! The head says yes, it’s possible. I put my whole strength in getting the thought of surrender in the mind of the terrorist. He rises up and exits his house. Maybe he is going to surrender, I don’t know. I hear the name of the place he is leaving for and convey it to the chief. The Prime Minister is happy at this.

Next, they want me to get into the mind of the writer and take out secrets from there. They say the writer has contacts with Naxalites and terrorists. She has secret information about them. The writer wants me to get into the mind of the Prime Minister. She needs information about his Hindu party and cabinet corruption. I am indecisive. I have to choose again and yet again I take the middle path. I ask each of them to give a piece of information one by one. They agree. We start with the writer.

She takes me to the jungles of Dantewada in her mind. The song ‘Gaanv chhorab nahi, jungle chhorab nahi, mai mati chhorab nahi, ladai chhorab nahi,’ a song of tribal resistance by Bhagwan Maajhi, is playing in my mind. Amidst the trees and fire burning in the night, we go inside a tent. A woman is being raped by a security officer. The writer says I could go into the mind of the security officer if I wanted. I refuse. She tells us that this is one of the secrets she has been carrying, the unabated rape of the tribal’s by the security forces. When it is the turn of the Prime Minister, he refuses at the pretext that the writer had not shared a secret. He wanted the name of the Naxalites involved in attacking the security forces. He says that until he gets something like that, he will not share his secrets.

The writer asks me to help these poor people with my powers. The cabinet ministers, the chief of investigative agency, and the chief of the Hindu organization cajole me not to do so. One more film director comes into my mind. He is with the writer. Both of them speak against the people in power. They encourage me to help the poor who will suffer the most with the misuse of this technology. The writer asks me to write all this down and put it all in public for everyone to see. The Counsellor is with them too.

To start with, the writer asks me to make a website for her and the director. I start making a website for them. I had the experience of doing so from my undergraduate days. They speak to me about the design they would like and I make a website for them. The website gives information on the atrocities of central government in the country. I have to collect more information to put on it. This would be provided by the writer and the film director over time.

I am already writing a novel on the collusion which had been inspired by some revelations I had made about solar auctions earlier. I have the whole story in mind which I had thought over along with my voices. After the request by the writer, the story is now twisted to put this technology in the novel. My idea is to write it in fiction so that people have some idea of this technology. It is a safe way for me to tell people about it. The writer has suggested this to me.

I am going into their camp. I have made an unconscious choice to oppose those in power. The people in power realize this too. They start mocking and persecuting me. Some of the faculty had already been persecuting me. They are abusing me on the situation I had put the whole Institute in. I have made it a national affair. That I have made love to The-light and brought this upon them. I object to their accusations. I say she has done it on her own. She has made love to so many men here, men of power who lust on her. Now I have few supporters in the group. Most of them have become my enemies and are after my blood. How can a man survive so much vile, when the vile comes from his own mind? I can’t even tell you what they have started doing to me. It is so gross that it would malign your sensibilities dear reader. Here is a man solving such big problems in his mind. A mind opened up with a chip in it. Persecuted, accused by people he can only hear and see through his mind with no option of meeting them in person. You must applaud the patience I show in dealing with all this day and night.