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After Death Communication Stories
The Spirit of My Father

On August 10, 2003, I celebrated Rakhi, an Indian festival. As night approached, I went to my bedroom and sat alone watching the full moon, shining in its full glory. Suddenly, I was engulfed by the sense of another invisible dimension around me. Although I could not see him, I felt the presence of my father who had died on August 19, 1986. Even as I struggled to understand what was happening, a strange rapture seized me. I was no longer myself.

My father, Mehr Lal Soni, Zia Fatehabadi, was an Urdu poet. He died on August 19, 1986, coinciding with the festival of Rakhi. When he was in the mood to write poetry he used to hum softly, grasp the stub of a half chiseled pencil between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand, and scribble on unprinted spaces of newspapers, magazines, paper bags or any other paper he could lay his hand on. This was a typical trait of his personality.

This mannerism was suddenly overlaid upon me so powerfully that I could do nothing to prevent it. I could only watch what was happening. The whole episode was not frightening, but rather comforting. It was as if I was possessed by something joyous and delightful, an out-of-this-world experience.

Under this other-worldly influence, I started reciting a poem in Urdu, a language which I do not speak, but the language in which my father wrote his poetry. I penned the poem on a piece of paper in Hindi. This experience lasted for a while, and then I was freed from its spell. I told this incident to my mother. She felt that the visitation of my father's spirit was an omen that the time for her to depart had come. My mother passed away peacefully in the early hours on September 30, 2003 during Durga Puja, an Indian festival. It seemed that she had chosen her own time to depart.

The impact of this incident was so profound that I still vividly remember it. I cannot read or write the Urdu language, yet I was able to compose an Urdu poem. I was not under the influence of alcohol, drugs or medication, nor do I suffer from any psychiatric disorder. I still am unable to decide whether this incident was real or the product of my sub-conscious mind. However, the incident was so real that I cannot dismiss it as false.

I am anxious to seek responses from any of your readers who may have had similar experiences.

Suresh Soni

Posted October 21, 2012