FUCK-OFF & WELCOME

I answer to no one, yet I choose to heal. I reject the fake, the needy, the manipulative—and embrace the honest, the sincere, the fearless. Enter if you dare, or be gone.

To all who think they own me, control me, or can manipulate me—fuck off.

Classmates who feign friendship but measure me by status.

Villagers who whisper, pry, and seek gossip as currency.

Neighbours who demand my time to satisfy curiosity or petty concerns.

Relatives who justify intrusion with age, blood, or tradition.

School teachers, college lecturers, employers, colleagues—all who assume access is owed to them.

You try to reach me in endless ways:

Flattering me.

Flaunting your money, status, suffering, or grief.

Claiming closeness because of age, gender, or obligation.

Spinning lies, exaggerations, or pretense to appear deserving.

Offering loyalty, allegiance, or obedience as a chain to bind me.

Seeking sympathy, pity, or scandal as a way to pry my knowledge.

It does not work.

I am not yours to own. I am not here to validate your illusions or amuse your egos.

I do not perform. I do not post. I do not answer endlessly to soothe your fragile needs.

Your schemes are transparent. Your games are meaningless.

Fuck off.

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But to those who are genuine—welcome.

The honest seeker, the sincere soul, the one whose suffering is real and whose heart is open—

you need no tricks, no flattery, no lies, no debts, no pretense.

You ask as you are. You come as you are.

You do not measure me, manipulate me, or demand me.

Your presence is enough. Your intention is enough. Your honesty is enough.

For you, I give freely:

My guidance, my knowledge, my time.

My advice from the heart, when life is at risk.

My healing, as if you were my own blood.

This is a personal favor. It is not owed. It is chosen.

You enter my world with clarity.

You gain access without schemes, without coercion, without expectation.

Welcome.

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I built myself in solitude, off-grid, self-reliant, untouchable.

I wake with the sun, eat what I grow, drink from rivers untouched by taxes, invoices, or systems.

I answer to no man, no system, no office, no culture.

I answer only to the wind, the soil, the water, the fire in my body.

I have mastered the most scientific, precise, and rigorous ways to heal.

Thousands have reversed diseases. Thousands have reclaimed life.

Yet your payments do not pay for me—they pay only a fraction of the value of the knowledge I share.

Only those who come honestly, without tricks or games, gain my personal care.

I write to share what I know, see, and feel.

Not for you. Not for your attention. Not for your approval.

Fuck you. Take it or leave it.

And welcome to those who come as they are.

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I rise with dawn, bathe in natural waters, eat what I grow.

I cultivate my land, tend my animals, maintain my fire, shelter, and tools.

I walk alone, meditate, reflect, read, and write.

I practice healing, study the body, and perfect knowledge from centuries of experimentation and observation.

I engage with only those who earn my trust through sincerity, not manipulation.

Silence is my teacher.

Solitude is my friend.

Observation is my lens.

Independence is my armor.

Compassion is selective, reserved for genuine need.

I am the hermit in the cave.

I am the recluse in the forest.

I am the self-made, self-reliant mind that sees clearly through illusions of power, ownership, and control.

So keep your payments, your allegiance, your tricks, your lies, your games.

I have my fire, my water, my earth, my air.

I have my health, my knowledge, my freedom.

I have my self.

And in that, I am infinite.

Fuck off. And welcome.

—Madhukar