The Rozabal Line Part 7

Martha suddenly cut in. 'Can I suggest something? You are obviously familiar with the concept of gnosis, or personally experienced knowledge. If someone is born blind and we ask him to describe the colour red, he will be unable to do so. He has not experienced red, green, blue, or any other colour, for that matter. Reincarnation, as a theory can be debated endlessly. Instead, if you were to experience some part of the theory yourself, maybe through a regression session, your ability to accept or reject a certain point of view may become much easier.'

Vincent was in his hotel room, semi-reclining on the bed with several pillows propping him up. Terry had pulled up a chair next to him and had sat down. Martha was downstairs in the hotel lounge.

'Okay, I'm going to try to take you into a state of deep relaxation. I want you to make yourself comfortable, settle back and relax . . . if you find that any limb or muscle is uncomfortable, just move it into the most comfortable position and then relax it.'

Vincent settled in and Terry continued. 'I now want you to focus on your breathing. Feel your breath going in . . . and out . . . in . . . and out . . . imagine that with every exhalation you are breathing out all your toxins, your stress, your worries and your fears. With every inhalation, you are breathing in life-giving energy. Now visualise a beautiful light . . . it is just above you . . . it's entering your body and healing you . . . all that's important to you is my voice . . . a peaceful, easy feeling is settling over you like a wonderfully soft blanket . . . I will now count backwards from five down to one. You will feel yourself floating into a deeper and deeper trance with each number. Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one.'

Vincent seemed to be semi-comatose so Terry went on. 'Now visualise that you are walking down a flight of stairs . . . with every step you take, you go deeper and deeper into a relaxed state . . . at the bottom of the stairs is a peaceful, tranquil oasis filled with energy, happiness, love, peace, joy, contentment . . . your mind is now so relaxed that it can allow itself to open up and remember almost everything.'

Terry paused before continuing, 'Now think back to a childhood memory . . . it could be anything . . . something nice and happy . . . just be a neutral observer of the memory . . . it doesn't matter if your mind wanders a little . . . just experience the sensation of the memory . . . I will now count backwards from five down to one and you will become a child once again . . . Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one.'

'Where are you?'

'I'm in the backyard of my parents' home in New York. There's a slight chill, but it isn't cold . . . it's probably autumn.'

'What are you wearing?'

'It's a baseball jacket and cap-New York Yankees. My father and I both love the Yankees.'

'Who are you with?'

'My dad and I are playing catch in the backyard. My mom is barbequing hot dogs in the corner. I love the smell of hot dogs. She puts on extra mustard, relish, ketchup, chopped onions and sauerkraut for me!'

'Are you enjoying yourself?'

'Oh, I love the days that my dad doesn't have to go to work. We play catch and my mom barbeques. I love every minute of it. My parents are the most wonderful parents in the world. They take me to the movies, to the zoo and buy me cotton candy.'

'Okay, just enjoy the love and warmth you are experiencing. Just relish the memory, savour it. I now want you to float above it a little and when I count backwards from five, I want you to go back deeper beyond the womb . . . think you can go deeper? Okay . . . five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . . where are you now?'

'It's a lovely Victorian house. It's definitely London. But the street is a mess. There's tension all around . . . I think there's a war going on.'

'Are you fighting in the war?'

'No. I'm a doctor. I make trips back and forth between the supply depots and the hospitals. The hospitals are overflowing with wounded soldiers and civilians. The Germans have been bombing London incessantly. I also drive the ambulance.'

'Really? What sort of an ambulance is it?'

'It's a st.u.r.dy 1940s' Chevy . . . it's been modified . . . I think it's a La Salle. It's seen a great deal of action. The front fender is badly bent, but we have no time to fix it.'

'So why are you in this Victorian home?'

'Oh, it's a Red Cross supply depot. The house belongs to a wealthy Jewish lady who has allowed part of it to be used by the Red Cross. She is very kind and generous. She often hosts parties for the soldiers. I have attended some of them. Music and some food, whatever is possible, what with the war rationing.'

'Do you know her personally?'

'I have met her many times. She's very elegant. Her portrait is in the lounge downstairs, done by a famous artist. Ba.s.sano, I think. The lounge opens into a beautiful square. The front door and grilles have the family crest emblazoned on them . . . "S", I think.'

'Do you remember her name?'

'Sossoon, I think.'

'Sure?'

'Yes. Sossoon. The house is on Belgrave Square. I have to pick up my Red Cross supplies from there. I often go past Buckingham Palace to the hospitals, where I unload the stuff. Their family is quite famous. They made their wealth in Baghdad and then India.'

Sossoon Ben Saleh was born in 1745 and around thirty years later was appointed Sheikh of Baghdad. Since the lion's share of Baghdad's earnings was derived from Jewish business, the Governor of Baghdad used to always appoint a Jewish finance minister.

In 1821, a new anti-Semitic Governor of Baghdad caused the departure of many Jewish families, including the Sossoons, who would eventually settle down in the Indian port of Mumbai, or Bombay, as it was then known.

Sossoon Ben Saleh's son, Matthew, was born in 1791. Matthew acquired British citizenship and set up Matthew Sossoon & Co. in Bombay, one of the most profitable firms exporting Indian opium to China.

His son, Jonathan Sossoon, moved to London to set up J.D. Sossoon & Co., which soon owned interests in shipping, real estate and banking. Jonathan died in 1885, leaving behind a widow, Clementine, Lady Sossoon, who would continue living at 18, Belgrave Square, in London.

Alexander Ba.s.sano, one of the most famous photographers of the time, turned out portraits of some of the most aristocratic and beautiful women of the time. Among these had been Clementine, Lady Sossoon.

'Okay. Forget the Red Cross and the Sossoons. Is there anyone important in your life? Parents? Brothers? Sisters? Wife? Kids? Lover?' asked Terry. Vincent was still lying peacefully on the bed in his hotel room.

'My parents aren't alive. I have no wife or kids. The only person dear to me is Lady Clementine. She has everything-wealth and power. But she will soon die.'

'You must love her very much?'

'She is everything to me in an otherwise dreary world. Unfortunately, she has cancer. It's a matter of time . . . she will soon die.'

'Do you remember what she looks like?'

'She's beautiful, graceful, and delicate. But she is withering away. The hospitals are overloaded and medicines are a problem. I'm trying really hard to look after her as best as I can.'

'Can you see anyone who is from your present life?'

'Clementine-she's Nana in my present life.'

Vincent was still in a deep hypnotic state. Terry gently probed, 'So why do you think she is here with you again in this life?'

Vincent paused and then replied, 'She seems to be taking care of me, nurturing me, much the same way that I took care of her in our previous lives.'

'Can you see anyone else you recognise?' asked Terry.

'My parents.'

'Present-life or past-life parents?'

'My present-life ones. In my previous life, they were strangers who were simply crossing the street and I was in a hurry to get some wounded soldiers to the hospital. My ambulance knocked them down!'

'What are you doing?'

'Not much I can do. They are dead. There is a young boy standing at the edge of the road. He's crying! I think he's their son. Oh G.o.d! What have I done?'

'Relax, Vincent. What do you think you can learn from what you have done?'

'I caused someone to lose his parents by my carelessness . . . my parents were lost by me in exactly the same circ.u.mstances-a car accident!'

'Vincent, I now want you to once again hover above the memories. I will again count backwards from five, and I want you to go deeper, beyond the lifetime that you have just recounted . . . much further . . . five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . . and what do you see? Where are you now?'

'In Ireland, I think. They have no food.'

'Why? Who are they?'

'There is a famine. The Catholic farmers are starving. I am the Protestant tax-collector. I have betrayed them all. I collect taxes from them that they cannot possibly pay, even if they were to sell themselves!'

'Anyone familiar?'

'Yes, I think so.'

'You think so?'

'Yes. I have a friend. Father Thomas Manning. It's him.'

'Who is he?'

'He's one of the poor Catholic farmers. I have persecuted him.' Vincent fell silent.

Terry realised he was not getting much out of Vincent, so he quickly shifted gears. 'Let's go deeper, Vincent . . . five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . . where are you?'

'A farm in rural India, a palatial house which is on the banks of a beautiful river.'

'Who are you?'

'I'm the son of a landlord. I am a teacher. I have just written a book.'

'Do you love your father?'

'Yes . . . no . . . I don't know. He is supporting the view of the village elders. He does not want me to tamper with the traditions and caste equations of the village. I feel very let down.'

Terry could feel the sweat building up on his forehead as he asked the next question.

'Do you see anyone familiar?'

'Yes. It's you! You! Terry! You are my father! I hate you! You sided with them!'

'Anything to learn?'

'For you. Not me.'

'What?'

'You prevented the truth from emerging. You blocked my path. You will make amends in another life, maybe this one. You will go to any lengths to ensure that the truth emerges.'

Terry digested this information and decided it was time to move on. 'Vincent, hover above the memories again . . . I will again count backwards from five . . . go deeper . . . much further . . . five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . . and what do you see?'

'Abwun d'bwaschmaja nethkadasch schmach tete malkuthach nehwe tzevjanach aikana d'bwaschmaja af b'arha.'

'Which language are you speaking in? Is this your native tongue?'

'Hawvlan lachma d'sunkanan jaomana waschboklan chauben aikana daf chnan schvoken l'chaijaben wela tachlan l'nesjuna ela patzan min bischa metol dilachie malkutha wahaila wateschbuchta l'ahlam almin.'

'Vincent, I cannot understand what you are saying. I want you to float above the scene and see it as an impartial observer . . . I need you to tell me what it is that you see.'

'I am in Yerushalem. I am here on a visit to the great city.'

'Where have you come from?'

'Cyrene. It's in North Africa.'

'What are you doing? Can you see who is around you?'

'The streets are filled with people. The rough stones that line the street have blood on them. There is a lot of shouting. I can see Roman soldiers everywhere.'

'What does Jerusalem look like?'

'Yerushalem? It is the most magnificent city between Alexandria and Damascus, with almost 80,000 people living here. Almost 250,000 visitors are here right now because of the Pa.s.sover!'

'Is it very crowded?'

'The pilgrims share the roads with teams of oxen who are hauling huge blocks of limestone. Large-scale construction work is going on. As you approach the city, on the left side is a ma.s.sive wall around 150 feet high. It's not the temple, merely the platform of the temple! To my right is the upper city where the Jewish priests live in splendour.'

'So the city is being rebuilt?'

'Herod is a great builder. He has built forts, palaces, cities and an artificial harbour. He has rebuilt all the existing meandering streets on a paved grid and has created a palace that is surrounded by a moat and boasts of wondrous water gardens. He wants to outdo King Solomon.'

'How?'

'Tradition forbids enlarging the temple beyond the size originally constructed by Solomon. Herod has added this gigantic thirty-five-acre platform, on which the temple sits. Some of the stones weigh more than fifty tonnes each.'

'Can you describe the temple?'

'The temple mount has seven entrances, but the main entry is from a stairway on the south side. At the foot of the stairs are shops selling sacrificial animals. There are also baths for ritual purification.'

'What do you do at the temple?'

'Sacrifice. A lamb for Pa.s.sover, a bull for Yom Kippur, two doves for a child's birth.'

'So, one buys the animals and sacrifices them?'

'Yes, but to buy animals, one has to first change Roman denarii for shekels.'

'What are shekels?'

'Shekels are temple currency-coins that have no portraits on them. They do not contradict Jewish law.'