🌠 From Mud to Multiverse: The Journey of a Soul
By: Shakti Prakash
I was not born with machines, but I was born with imagination.
Long before I knew what “engineer” or “inventor” meant, I was already both — with nothing but mud in my hands and dreams in my eyes.
As a child, I built tractors, radios, tape recorders, roller engines, loudspeakers, lister engines, pumpsets, generators, mics, even televisions — all from mud.
Not as toys. As ideas given shape.
I didn’t need wires. I only needed vision.
🔧 The Child Who Watched Silently
Whenever I saw an open engine, or exposed electronics, I would stop — as if time had paused just for me.
I didn’t pass by. I stood still, watching, observing, absorbing.
“How does this part move?”
“Why is this pipe there?”
“What will happen if this wire breaks?”
These weren’t school questions. They were the language of curiosity, spoken between a child and the universe.
🧭 Then Came Life...
The world, like it always does, whispered:
“You must grow up.”
“You have responsibilities.”
“No one lives by playing with mud.”
So I did.
I walked the road of duty, of family, of responsibility.
I became a teacher, a thinker, a manager of many things — including time, money, classroom, home, and dreams.
But somewhere deep inside, the mud engineer still lived — quietly, faithfully, watching.
💫 Then Came Questions...
As life matured, my questions did too.
I began to wonder:
- What is time, really?
- Are there higher dimensions?
- Is consciousness the true power?
- Is God a traveler across timelines?
- Are dreams messages from the future?
My gaze turned upward — to quantum physics, to spirituality, to the mystery of existence.
I began writing. And writing. And writing.
Today, I’ve written 600 blogs —
230 published, 400 waiting — like unopened letters to the universe.
🌌 From Machines to Meaning
I once built tractors out of mud.
Now I build concepts out of thought.
I once played with wires.
Now I try to rewire beliefs.
I’ve not changed — I’ve expanded.
The child in me was never wrong.
He just needed a lifetime to realize…
...that his play with mud was a rehearsal for understanding the unseen fabric of reality.
🙏 I Am Still That Child
Even now, when I look at the stars, I remember:
We used to call meteors “broken stars” and made wishes on them.
We believed the sky was listening.
And you know what?
I still believe it is.
Because everything I’ve done —
From mud tractors to metaphysical questions —
Was guided by a silent force…
Something bigger than me.
Something deeper than thought.
🌱 I share this not to impress — but to express.
Because maybe… someone else out there is holding a childhood dream, buried under adult duty.
To them I say:
Don’t let the world tell you it's gone.
Your mud still remembers.
Your mind still wonders.
And your soul… is still waiting to fly.
🌾 I Was a Child With Mud in My Hands
— A Poem by Shakti Prakash
I was a child with mud in my hands,
Building tractors, dreams, and dusty lands.
Engines rose where the soil would fall,
A silent creator, no guide at all.
I watched machines with breath held tight,
Wires and wheels whispered in the night.
No book, no lab, no polished tool,
Yet every bolt obeyed my rule.
I grew — not taller, but heavier in mind,
With duties, bills, and clocks that bind.
But deep inside, untouched by years,
That muddy child still reappears.
He speaks through silence, through skies and stars,
He dreams of timelines and quantum scars.
Of multiverse doors and thought as force,
Of life as light on a secret course.
They said, “Grow up, stop playing pretend,”
But my game with the cosmos will never end.
For I was born to question and seek —
The stars, the soul, the strong and weak.
So here I stand, with blogs to share,
A mind in wonder, a heart laid bare.
From mud to multiverse, I still create,
With every word, I challenge fate.
Stay connected. Because this is just the beginning of a series I call:
"From Mud to Multiverse"
— Where science meets soul, and curiosity finds its way home.
~ Shakti Prakash
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