“I know this much. He had picked my thoughts out of my head.”
The famous writer Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936) was born in India, and in addition to writing poetry and books, he was also a journalist.
He once wrote about an unusual experience while covering a story in the land in which he was born, India.
“I was going about my normal routine of the day when I came across an elderly man who approached me and said he could help me. Not knowing the man, and noticing that his attire was somewhat ragged, I kept walking with the hope he would take a different route.
“But I was under the wrong assumption, and the man stuck to me like glue. The faster I walked, the faster he walked. “And even when I politely asked him not to follow me, he merely smiled and nodded and kept up with me, foot by foot.
“Finally, I stopped and asked him what it was he wanted. He said I should not procrastinate and finish my book. I asked him what on earth he was talking about and he said, come on, you know.
“Then he astounded me by giving me the title. It was the exact title of a story I had been working on for some time but had put aside because I couldn’t figure out an ending that would be reasonable and interesting.
“And, what’s more, I had told no one, absolutely no one, what the title was. So here I was with this strange little man whom I had never met hounding me for no apparent reason, then stunning me by telling me the name of my book.
“I was astounded. When I asked him how he could possibly have known what I was writing, he pointed to his brain and said, I know it, I just know it. He was giggling and spitting a bit, and I’m not sure his mind was intact.
“But I know this much. He had picked my thoughts out of my head. Here was a mind reader of the first order. I gave him some money and thanked him for his encouragement.
“That evening, at home and after dinner, I opened the unfinished manuscript and to my amazement, the rest of the story seemed to pop into mind.”
“It was a most unusual day and I shall never forget it.”
