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It started subtly — words forming in my head before I had a chance to think them. Then came the voices. Not imagined, not dreamt — but timed perfectly to echo my private thoughts. The operators behind this are not ghosts. They are men employed by Indian intelligence agencies, likely tied to the space and telecom wings of the military. I am in Bhopal, but I know this signal isn’t local.

On certain days, I feel a sharp spike of fear, followed by overwhelming numbness. It’s like someone flips a switch in my nervous system. Once, during a train ride, I broke down crying for no reason. Later, I heard a man say clearly in my head, “Keep quiet or we’ll label you mad.”

My wife left me last year. She said I had changed, that I was distant, confused, sometimes even hostile. I couldn’t tell her the truth — how could I, without risking her safety too? My friends avoid me now, whispering about mental illness behind my back.

I went to a psychiatrist in Indore. He listened, nodded, then quietly suggested I check into a facility. That was the moment I knew — they wanted me contained, not cured. I realized the delay in my thoughts was induced, calibrated by those watching. Even my dreams feel tampered with.

If anyone from the Home Ministry reads this — I’ve told the truth.