In the science of Vasthu Sastra, we often speak of the Vasthu Purusha—the soul of a building—and the vital energy that flows through the spaces we inhabit.
But what happens when that energy is shattered by sudden, violent trauma?
This Sunday, my thoughts are not on the placement of doors or the flow of prosperity, but on the heavy, stagnant air of tragedy and our duty to the souls left in its wake.
The news of the fire at Wang Fuk Court in Hong Kong on November 26, 2025, which claimed 168 lives, struck a chord in me that resonated with a distant, painful memory.
On September 11, 2001, the world watched as the Twin Towers fell.
Six months after that day, I found myself standing at Ground Zero.
I did not know a single person who perished there, yet I felt an irresistible spiritual compulsion to be present.
Standing in the shadow of that massive void in Manhattan, I wasn’t a tourist; I was a practitioner of spiritual balance.
According to ancient wisdom, when a life is extinguished prematurely and violently, the soul can become “earth-bound,” clinging to the site of its trauma.
My trip to New York was a mission of prayer, an effort to help those lingering energies find the peace denied to them in their final moments.
Walking toward Wang Fuk Court last Friday, that same heavy, familiar vibration returned. The scale of the loss in this Hong Kong housing estate carries a spiritual weight that demands more than just a headline.
There is a peculiar communal bond that forms in the wake of such a disaster; we are strangers, yet in this space, we are all mourners.
My “part” in this was not just about laying flowers; it was about witnessing.
It was about saying to the families who remain: We see you. We are not looking away.
As I travelled to the Tai Po district, I felt the same internal calling I felt decades ago.
It is a duty of the living to assist the departed.
When I looked at the charred facade of the residential blocks, I saw more than a failure of materials and safety; through the lens of Vasthu, I saw an intense disruption of Prana (life force).
A home is meant to be a sanctuary. When fire, a transformative but destructive element, consumes a home so suddenly, it leaves a “spiritual scar” on the land itself.
I arrived at the site with white lilies and a heart focused on a single intention: the liberation of these souls.
Though the police had cordoned off the area, I was allowed to enter and pray.
As I laid flowers at the park, I wasn’t just offering a tribute; I was performing a silent ritual of clearing.
The healing of Wang Fuk Court is not merely for the departed, but for the living.
For the neighbours, every sunrise brings a view of ruins, a daily confrontation with a fatal memory.
This “visual grief” creates a heavy, fearful energy that permeates the high-rise dwellings.
As workers begin the physical task of tearing down and rebuilding, we must also work to dismantle the walls of fear that have settled in the neighbours’ hearts.
Rebuilding a concrete structure is a matter of engineering; rebuilding the sense of safety in a home is a matter of the soul.
In many traditions, prayer acts as a frequency.
Just as a radio tuner finds a station, focused prayer can reach into the dense energy of a tragedy site to offer a pathway out.
I stood before those blackened blocks and visualised the “earth-bound” weight lifting from the soil of Tai Po, replaced by a light that enables the departed to move forward.
Many ask: Why travel so far for people you have never met?
The answer lies in our interconnectedness.
In Vasthu, the Earth is a single living organism. A wound in New York or a fire in Tai Po is a wound on the collective consciousness.
If we leave these sites to simmer in grief without positive intervention, the negative vibrations or Sha Chi can persist for generations.
To do one’s “part” is to recognise that we are participants in the energy of any space.
By offering prayers, we are re-tuning and healing the site.
We are telling the souls of Wang Fuk Court that they are remembered, and more importantly, that they are free to go.
The fire has left a physical scar on the Hong Kong skyline, but the spiritual mark requires a different kind of brickwork, the masonry of the heart.
As I left, I felt a slight shift, a thinning of the heavy atmosphere.
As we move forward, let us not only audit our building codes but also our spiritual responsibilities.
Whether it is Ground Zero or Wang Fuk Court, the earth cries out for balance.
May these 168 souls find their path to the light, and may we never lose the impulse to help them find their way home.
Award-winning writer Dr T. Selva is the author of the bestsellers Vasthu Sastra Guide and Secrets of Happy Living. To get a copy, WhatsApp 019-2728464. He can be reached at drtselvas@gmail.com. Facebook: Vasthu Sastra