get ebooks free

Share the Suspense ...



The Quantum Mantra. By Henri-Paul Bour
Free ebook

Genre/Category: Crime, Thriller, Mystery
Transfers: PDF 389   ePub  172

Login or Register to transfer this crime, thriller, mystery, detective, product to your device

Register Here.


Sponsored links:
The Quantum Mantra. By Henri-Paul Bour
Leave Feedback for Author
Synopsis

Kindle edition : https://www.amazon.com/Quantum-Mantra

Pascal is a French doctor who is working in a refugee camp at the Thai-Burmese border. He is respected for his compassionate and adventurist spirit. Since childhood, he experiences premonitory visions and time travel but an accident reveals the true nature of his remarkable gift, a secret he must eventually confront and expose.

Mantras, such as the famous Tibetan OM, are sacred words. When these words are uttered or chanted, they are said to connect our mind to a different reality.

In fact, the mantra concept goes far beyond the Vedic rituals, and can be found in all religions, using other names: (Mystic psalms, Kabbala letters, Gregorian songs, Islam prayers and so on.) They are the voices of our souls.

Nowadays, science and spirituality converge to similar conclusions: Everything is vibration, energy, waves with frequencies. The body and brain are waves, creating energy fields. The energy fields from our body and brain emit special waves capable of resonating with unknown cosmic fields some call Ether, Matrix, Zero Point field, collective consciousness… Nobody knows for sure.

But many think that it is how our consciousness emerges. When the mantras are chanted, these resonances are stronger and produce a tighter entanglement between our mind wave/particles and the wave/particles of the outer fields. This fine tuning between those waves generates a higher consciousness.

Those who have experimented the chantings have certainly felt these connections and the awakening of a positive harmonious energy.

BUT
What would happen if some Quantum scientist could artificially control our mind by entanglement?

Excerpt:

The white Land Rover was parked in a cramped parking space facing the marketplace of Ban Kao village, near the Thai Burmese border. The temperature on the dashboard blinked 42 degrees Celsius.

The man in the car emerged suddenly from his power nap, hitting his elbow on the tough, leather armrest.

He was a tall man, solidly built without being intimidating. Like most Eurasians, it was difficult to discern exactly where he was from, but the mystery behind his demeanour was probably what was most appealing about him. He swung out of the four-wheel drive with acrobatic ease, a quality he was proud to have after all the martial arts and yoga training he had received over the years.

He gazed into the dusty rear view mirror and examined his reflection. “Not bad”, he thought with approval. He still felt young in his body. He was not untouched by experience and remained surprisingly optimistic despite his demanding work. For three years now Pascal Debussy had been a dedicated volunteer for a medical group in the Mae Baan town where he worked with other International and Thai volunteers, all very dedicated to help.

Pascal squeezed the soft bottle of plastic he had just purchased from the nearby market. The tepid liquid poured down his throat and splashed onto his sweat- drenched shirt. Every droplet of water landed on the earth in small puffs of steam. He brushed his black hair swiftly back through his fingers.

He took refuge from the sweltering sun by resting on a gritty bench next to the car. He began to roll himself his cigarette, attempting to block his mother’s admonishing voice inside his head: “Those cancer-sticks control you!”

Regardless, he lit it. The smoke caressed his lungs, and exhaling, he closed his eyes.

A man is on his back inside a small dark room, howling in pain.

Shocked by the sinister vision, he opened his eyes and saw wet, wide eyes 

staring straight back at him.

Once again, it was happening to him in: he could instantly see a reality beyond, normally invisible to his limited perceptions.

The young woman’s pale blue T-shirt blended with the sky. The traditional cloth longyi the Burmese girl had wrapped around her waist was so stiff that it looked as though it was a prop. Her plump cheeks were painted with two round cakes of Tanahka white powder.

With tears brimming, she hesitated to speak. Pascal was absolutely silent; afraid his breath would cause her to run away.