The Rozabal Line (Chapter Six)

By Ashwin Sanghi

Harare, Zimbabwe, 1965 

  Terry Acton was born on 11 November, the very day that Ian Smith, Prime Minister of Rhodesia, made a unilateral declaration of independence for the country.

  Terry’s father had moved to Rhodesia from England upon being offered a position at the De Beers Mining Company. He had married the daughter of his British supervisor a year after moving and had decided to make Rhodesia his home. Terry had been born two years later.

  Unfortunately, Rhodesia was in turmoil. The government of Prime Minister Ian Smith was a white minority running an apartheid regime. The country was in civil war with the rebels being led by Robert Mugabe, who eventually seized power in 1980.

  Mugabe’s regime was one of corruption, sleaze, torture, and dictatorship.24 The Actons were forced to leave the country and return to England in 1991.

  London, UK, 1991 

  Terry’s parents ended up losing their lifesavings when they fled Zimbabwe. Circumstances made them poor East-Enders, living in the working-class borough of Hackney.

  The economy was in recession and Terry’s father was lucky to get a blue-collar factory job at Lesney’s. Lesney’s factory was located in Hackney Wick, and produced Matchbox toys such as miniature cars and trucks. Lesney’s was the main employer in the area; in fact, it was pretty much the only employer in the area.25

  Senior Acton had not taken the knocks well. He became an obnoxious, red-nosed drunk who excelled at beating his wife often and his kids occasionally, depending upon the level of alcohol in his bloodstream. Little Terry was a frail and frightened little boy who suffered from asthma, a chronic respiratory condition that weakened him further.

  Terry’s mother was an angel from heaven who somehow managed to lock away her emotional and physical scars to produce the finest Yorkshire pudding, rhubarb crumble and shepherd’s pie in England for her son. Terry loved returning home from school to his mother, but he hated his father coming home.

  He was relieved when his father shot himself when the Lesney’s factory, one of the last few remaining businesses in Hackney, shut shop and made him redundant.

  Knocks in his early years would make Terry even more determined to succeed at school and eventually in life. The Rhodes Scholarship to Oxford two years later was his ticket to the future.

  He silently thanked Cecil John Rhodes.

  Cecil John Rhodes, the founder of the state of Rhodesia, which eventually became Zimbabwe, had made his millions by shrewdly investing in the diamond mines of southern Africa. In 1880, he had created the De Beers Mining Company, which would eventually bring him great power, fortune and recognition.26

  In 1877, Rhodes would contend: ‘We British are the finest race in the world; and that the more of the world we inhabit, the better it is for the human race.’

  Rhodes would die young at the age of just forty-nine. In his last will and testament, he would leave his fabulous wealth to create a secret society: one that would allow Britannia to ruletheworld. It was projected by Rhodes that by 1920 there would be around 2,000 to 3,000 men in their prime scattered all over the globe, each having been mathematically selected to achieve the goals set out by Rhodes.

  Rhodes had confided to a close friend that it was necessary to create ‘a society copied . . . from the Jesuits . . . a secret society organised, like Loyola’s, supported by the accumulated wealth of those whose aspiration is to do something . . . a scheme to take the government of the whole world!’

  The Rhodes Scholarships, which would become very famous, would merely be a tool to recruit the most promising and bright future leaders—in whichever arena they chose to work—in politics, business, government, banking, finance, arts, science, medicine, technology or social work.

  The forty-second President of the United States, Bill Clinton, would be a Rhodes Scholar. His administration alone would have more than twenty other Rhodes Scholars.

  In 1993, one of the new recruits into Rhodes’ secret society was Terry Acton. He was one of the youngest and brightest members of this elite group, accepted into Oxford to pursue an undergraduate degree in psychology. Another recruit was an incredibly intelligent American woman. Her name was Alissa Kaetzel.

  Two years into his Oxford degree, Terry was offered the opportunity of a lifetime—a chance to obtain an advanced degree in clinical psychology at Yale. Terry grabbed it with both hands.

  Alissa stayed on at Oxford to complete her M.Phil in political theory, comparative government and international relations.

  New Haven, Connecticut, USA, 1993 

  Terry’s Rhodes Scholarship had opened a new door, not only to Oxford and Yale, but also to Yale’s secret society—The Order of Skull & Bones. 27

  The previous year, he had climbed to the tower of Weir Hall overlooking the Bones courtyard and had heard blood-curdling cries from within the structure as fifteen newcomers were put through their initiation.

  Terry’s moment had arrived on ‘tap night’ when fifteen seniors led by Stephen Elliot arrived outside his room and pounded on the door. When he opened his door, Stephen slammed Terry’s shoulder and shouted, ‘Skull and Bones: Do you accept?’

  Bewildered, Terry mumbled, ‘Accept.’

  He had been handed a message wrapped with a black ribbon and sealed with black wax with the skull-and-crossbones emblem and the number 322. The message mentioned a time and a place for Terry to appear on initiation night.

  On initiation night, he had been taken by Stephen Elliot to a special room which had a question written in German on its walls: ‘Wer war der thor, wer weiser, bettler oder kaiser? Ob arm, ob reich, im tode gleich.’

  Translated, the German sentence meant: ‘Who was the fool, who the wise man, beggar or king? Whether poor or rich, all’s the same in death.’

  The origins of that particular riddle were very old indeed. They could be traced back to 1776.

  In 1776, the Bavarian Illuminati had come into being at the University of Ingolstadt in Germany. The Latin word Illuminati meant ‘the enlightened ones’. 28

  These were people for whom the illuminating light came, not from an authoritative source such as the Church, but from elevated spiritual consciousness. The secret society would have elaborate initiation rituals. The initiate would be shown a skeleton, at the feet of which would be a crown and sword. The initiate would then be asked whether the skeleton was that of a king, nobleman or beggar. Unable to answer, the initiate would be told that it was unimportant . . . the only thing of importance was the character of being a man.

  At the end of the day, all humans were merely skull and bones.

  Terry Acton had realised he had a ‘spiritual gift’ after the death of his wife, Susan.

  Terry and Susan had been university sweethearts at Yale. She had been working as a waitress in Romano’s, the pizza hangout for Yallies and he had tried the most ridiculous pick-up lines on her each day till she agreed to go out with him. They got married during his final year at Yale. Stephen Elliot, who had initiated Terry into Skull & Bones, had been his best man.

  While Stephen had introduced Terry to Skull & Bones, Terry returned the favour by introducing Stephen to Alissa Kaetzel. Alissa returned home after completing her M.Phil from Oxford and had dropped in to meet Terry in New Haven. She had ended up staying on for two weeks after meeting Stephen Elliot.

  The two couples were on a vacation in the Pocono Mountains when Terry’s car swerved off a wet road. Stephen and Alissa survived along with Terry, but Susan did not.

  Stephen and Alissa had been arguing about whether a woman or African–American could ever become President of the United States. Terry had been totally absorbed in the rather heated discussion and had not noticed the sharp bend in the road a few yards ahead.

  Terry’s life came to a standstill. He mourned the loss of Susan. He mourned the loss of the children they had planned together but did not have.

America was no longer attractive. It reminded him too much of Susan. Terry took the first available flight back to London. He did not bother to inform anyone of his decision, except for his close friend and confidant Stephen Elliot.

  London, UK, 1996 

  Lonely and miserable in London, Terry was left with no alternative but to fill the vacuum. He began to fill it with a bottle of Bell’s whisky each day.

  He realised he needed discipline in life. So, he disciplined himself into walking into the Star Tavern pub at 11:30 sharp each morning.

  Terry was sitting at his usual table in the Star Tavern when a young lady walked into the pub and started going up to each table and hurriedly asking the men, ‘Excuse me. Is your name Terry?’ After several failed attempts she finally reached Terry’s table.

  ‘Excuse me. Is your name Terry?’ she enquired. Terry continued to stare at the glass in his hand and nodded his assent without looking up.

  ‘I have a message for you from Susan,’ she said.

  Terry’s hand dropped the glass and the whisky and ice spilled on the table. ‘Who the fuck are you?’ he demanded in a sudden fit of rage.

  ‘Please listen to me. I’m not a crank. I know that Susan’s dead. I work next door at the Spiritualist Association. I’m a psychic medium,’ she pleaded.

  ‘Fuck you! You sick, perverted bitch! Bugger off.’

  Terry was furious. The mere mention of Susan had reopened raw, unhealed wounds.

  The woman was equally determined and stood her ground. ‘Listen, you pathetic drunk, I have no inclination to carry on a conversation with you. I do, however, suggest that you let Sabrina and Jonathan go to summer camp.’

  With those words, the woman did an about-turn and stormed out of the pub.

  Terry’s jaw dropped and his throat went dry. Since the day that Susan and Terry had started planning for children they had zeroed in on two names, Sabrina and Jonathan, for their yet-to-be- born children. Susan used to joke that she would pack the children off to camp each summer so as to get some respite from motherhood, much to the consternation of Terry, who could not bear the thought of his kids ever being away from him.

  No one else had ever shared this private conversation between husband and wife.

  The Spiritualist Association of Great Britain, or the SAGB, sat inside a charming Victorian building in southwest London. The ninety-two-year lease had been purchased by the association in 1955 for the unbelievably low price of £24,500. 29

  The building housed several independent rooms that were bare except for two chairs facing one another in each room. One of these chairs would be used by the visitor, and the other would be occupied by any of the several psychic mediums who worked there. Each room had a glass skylight to allow energy to flow in and out of the room. The SAGB offered one-on-one sittings with psychics for spiritual healing, psychic workshops as well as regression sessions.

  Terry Acton had come to the SAGB looking for the woman who had approached him in the pub. He was unable to recall her name. Actually, he was quite sure he had not even given her a chance to introduce herself.

  Luckily, the SAGB lobby had a bulletin board with the names and photos of all the psychic mediums working there and he recognised her picture on it. The photo was obviously one of her at a younger age, but it was unmistakably her. Martha Sinclair.

  He had gone up to the reception and hesitated. The elderly receptionist looked up and said, ‘Yes? May I help you, sir?’

  ‘Yeah. I uh . . . was wondering whether Martha Sinclair would be available for a psychic session today?’ he asked.

  ‘You’re in luck. She is presently in a session that should be over in around fifteen minutes. Shall I book you for a sitting? The cost of a thirty-minute private appointment is £30,’ the receptionist had added helpfully. Terry had thought about it only for a moment and then quickly shelled out the thirty pounds for the sitting with Martha.

  ‘Could you please wait in room number six? She’ll be with you shortly.’

  Terry had never imagined he would be at the SAGB waiting for a psychic sitting. This was so unlike him. In a short while, Martha walked in. He had not known that this one sitting would change his life forever.

  He had expected her to be mad at him for the way he had behaved at the pub. Instead, she was gentle, warm, friendly and genuinely concerned for him. By being so nice, she ended up making him feel even guiltier about his obnoxious attitude at the pub.

  ‘Please don’t be sorry,’ she said to him. ‘It’s important to let go of your guilt. Life puts us in situations so that we can learn from them. Once we have learned, it’s time to throw away the guilt and move on,’ she said.

  She continued. ‘Everyone is endowed with psychic gifts. These gifts could be empathy, prophecy, cognition or vision. Each of us has some of these in lesser or greater quantities. They are the various ways in which psychic perception is possible. As you open yourself to these offerings, spiritual energy becomes your teacher and you become more acutely aware of your sixth sense.’

  She then lowered her voice and said, ‘During the past few weeks, I have been feeling the presence of a spirit which is not completely at peace. A few days ago, when I was meditating, I heard a female voice telling me that her name was Susan and that I shouldgive a message to her husband, Terry, who was at the pub just next door,’ she said. Martha paused to look into Terry’s eyes for disbelief—she found none.

  ‘She wanted me to tell you she is happy. She is in a place where she is in the midst of happiness and love. She wants you to understand that our lives on earth are merely illusions. Each life is nothing but a change of clothes. Bodies die and decay, what remains unchanged is the soul; that is eternal,’ she concluded.

  Terry’s eyes had turned moist. He started feeling the healing touch of a soothing balm on his tired and aching spirit. Her gentle voice was comforting him, like a mother’s lullaby.

  Martha continued, ‘She knew you would not believe me and that’s why she gave me the children’s names. She said you have a clean and pure heart and that you can easily help others by looking inside yourself and discovering your spiritual self.’

  Martha only stopped when she saw Terry looking up at the skylight in the room, sobbing and laughing alternately, as he felt the warmth of Susan’s spirit enveloping him.

  Being a student of psychology, Terry had some basic understanding of the past-life therapy pioneered by Dr Brian Weiss. However, he was quite unprepared for the regression Martha put him through a few days later.

  In 1980, Dr Brian Weiss, head of the Department of Psychiatry, Mount Sinai Medical Center, in Miami Beach, had started the treatment of a patient, Catherine. Catherine was a twenty-seven- year-old woman, completely overwhelmed by moods of depression, anxieties and phobias. Weiss had used hypnosis to help bring to the surface forgotten or repressed incidents, traumas and memories from her infancy and childhood.

  Catherine had not only remembered incidents from her childhood, but also successfully provided detailed descriptions from several of her eighty-six previous lives.

  Catherine’s phobias had eventually been eliminated because the process of recollecting her past lives had made her realise the reason for these phobias in her present life. Past-life therapy had now become a medical term. 30

  Martha wanted to heal Terry’s wounds by using past-life therapy on him.

  Martha said, ‘Past-life therapy is a great way to heal old wounds or to understand the cause of certain ailments or developments in our present lives. For you to be able to heal anyone else, Terry, it is first necessary to heal yourself. I am going to try to make you understand how the entire process works by making you the subject. Fine?’

  Terry had nodded his assent.

  ‘Okay, let’s just start by getting you comfortable, physically comfortable. Settle back in your chair and begin to relax . . . that’s right . . . just . . . relax.’ The voice was soothing but firm.

  Terry actually began to let go and concentrate on Martha’s voice. ‘Look up now, and observe the skylight. You can see a little green dot on the skylight. A green dot is simply what it is. Its shape is round and its colour is green. The shape and colour are really quite irrelevant. All that I want you to do is to completely focus your concentration on that spot for a while as you continue to listen to my voice.’ 31

  Martha continued, ‘A peaceful, easy feeling is settling over you like a comfortable quilt. Relax. Allow yourself to drift. As you focus on the dot, something will begin to happen. The dot may move. It may change shape. It may change colour. As you notice these transformations, you will also begin to feel changes within yourself. Your eyes are tired. They’re fed up of focusing on the dot. Your eyes and your eyelids want to close. That’s fine.’

  She continued in the same soothing voice, ‘Now drift deeper with every breath you take. Feel your body getting heavier and sinking further. You’re comfortable and relaxed, but you’re heavy and sinking. Deeper. Deeper. Okay, now I want you to allow your mind to drift back in time . . . drift back to this morning . . . drift back to last night . . . drift back to university . . . to your high-school days . . . drift back to your infancy . . . drift back beyond your infancy . . . that’s right.’ Martha now began to probe with gentle questions.

  ‘Where are you now?’

  ‘I’m on a farm somewhere in northern India.’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I’m a landlord. I own lots of land in the area.’

  ‘So you’re a farmer?’

  ‘No. I only own the land. I rent it out to landless farmers who till the land and share the produce.’

  ‘Where do you live?’

  ‘I have a palatial house which is on the banks of a beautiful river. It has a very nice outdoor veranda where I sit and smoke a hookah.’

  ‘What is a hookah?’

  ‘It’s a big copper pipe. My servants fill it with tobacco, saffron, cardamom, hot coals and water. I sit and smoke it all day long while gazing at the river.’

  ‘Do you have many servants?’

  ‘Yes. One’s importance is determined by the number of servants one has and the head of cattle one owns.’

  ‘Are you married?’

  ‘Yes. My wife is very beautiful. We got married when we were children.’

  ‘So you fell in love with her?’

  ‘No. Our marriage was arranged by our families. I had to marry her because my father insisted. I was lucky that I eventually fell in love with her. I would do anything for her. I worship her . . . I am hopelessly devoted to her.’

  ‘Do you have children?’

  ‘Three. A daughter and two sons.’

  ‘Do you love them?’

  ‘Yes, but I had to give my daughter away in marriage when she was just thirteen.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because child marriage is the norm. I love her and want her to be happy—but she’s just a child! She misses me terribly.’

  ‘What about your sons? Do you love them?’

  ‘Yes. But the eldest one isreckless. I get very angry with him. I sometimes have to beat him to knock some sense into his head.’

  ‘How does that make him feel?’

  ‘I think he resents me.’

  ‘How old are you?’

  ‘I am quite old. I do not know my exact age because no one noted the date or time when I was born. Unfortunately, I am quite ill.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘The tobacco has given me a terrible cough. It never goes. And I am hopelessly addicted to the hookah. I cannot stop smoking.’

  ‘Do you think this could be the reason for your asthma and breathing disorders in your present life as Terry?’

  ‘Yes. Probably.’

  ‘Why are you addicted?’

  ‘I have been under a great deal of pressure. My youngest son is a teacher and has written a book questioning the caste system of the Hindu religion. Many Brahmins and priests have turned against him.’

  ‘What is this caste that you talk about?’

  ‘Hindus believe that your position in society is determined by birth. Many people are treated unfairly due to this. Untouch-ability is a direct consequence of this system.’

  ‘You must be very proud of your son for having written about the problem.’

  ‘No. I dissuaded him from doing it. Why rake up contro-versies? Let sleeping dogs lie. He is very upset with me.’

  ‘Do you see any familiar faces from your present life?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘My mother, in my present life as Terry . . . she was my wife in my previous life.’

  ‘Anyone else?’

  ‘My father in my present life . . . he was my eldest son in my previous life—the one I used to hit quite often.’

  ‘Any other faces that look familiar?’

  ‘Susan. My wife in my present life.’

  ‘Who is she in your previous life?’

  ‘She was my daughter in my previous life—I arranged to have her married off to someone when she was just thirteen! Poor kid!’

  ‘What can you learn from all this?’

  ‘My mother gave me intense love in my present life. It was because I had intensely loved her when she was my wife in my previous life. She was merely returning the favour.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘I used to take out my anger on my eldest son in a previous life by hitting him. He became my father in my present life to teach me how dreadful it feels to be at the receiving end of a parent’s anger.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘I ensured that my daughter was parted from me at an early age as a result of her early child marriage. She became my wife, Susan, in my present lifetime. She taught me the intense sorrow and despair of separation—through her early death.’

  ‘Anything that your younger son taught you? You know, the one who wrote about the evils of caste discrimination.’

  ‘One should never let sleeping dogs lie.’

  London, UK, 2012 

  Professor Terry Acton looked unkempt. His hair was finger-combed and his face had a permanently unshaven look. His jeans and sweater had certainly seen better days. Strangely enough, all of this only enhanced his appeal to the opposite sex. There was pain in his eyes and this seemed to make him more attractive to women.

  The sixteen years since that fateful day of his session with Martha Sinclair had produced positive healing for Terry Acton.

  Terry had decided to use his background in psychology and combine it with past-life therapy and a comparative study of religion at the Spiritualist Association. Terry had first started out by being a spiritual medium. He then mastered the art of hypnosis. He moved on to practise regression when Martha moved back to New York to start her yoga academy.

  After his first few sessions with Martha, Terry began attending lectures on spirituality at the Department for the Study of Religions at the University of London. His teachers awoke Terry’s interest in religion and spirituality. This eventually led to a prestigious teaching assignment at the university.

  Today, Terry was delivering a lecture on Hinduism and its twin pillars of reincarnation and karma.

  ‘It’s impossible to place a date on the origin of Hinduism, but even way back in 4000 B.C., it was being practised in the Indus Valley. Hinduism is the third largest religion in the world with approximately 940 million followers,’ started Terry. 32

  Without consulting any notes, he continued. ‘Hinduism is similar to many world religions. For example, the Holy Trinity exists in Hinduism. The trinity is that of Brahma the creator, Vishnu the preserver, and Shiva the destroyer. The Trinity is also repeated in the divine Hindu Mother Goddess, with Lakshmi, Saraswati and Kali being three manifestations of the supreme feminine force. Hindu mythology has an abundance of gods. This is quite similar to the ancient Greek and Roman mythologies. However, unlike the Greeks or Romans, Hindus hold the view that all their gods are merely different mani-festations of the same supreme God. Thus, Hinduism is mono-theistic, not polytheistic.

  ‘Hinduism talks of Brahman, or the one supreme and divine entity. The fundamental belief is that every living thing has a soul which is connected to the greater being, Brahman. Hindus believe that they have eternal life due to their fundamental belief in reincarnation.’ Terry noticed a student in the front looking sceptical. He paused and asked, ‘Any questions?’

  The sceptical one raised her hand and said, ‘Professor Acton, in your recently published book you have said that the word reincarnation is derived from the word carnate, which translates into flesh. Therefore, incarnate means entering the flesh and hence reincarnate means re-entering the flesh. You say that the soul enters the body at birth and leaves the body upon death, and that this is a continuous cycle. Why? What is the purpose of such a cycle?’

  Terry smiled at the rather lengthy but fundamental question and replied, ‘With each life, the soul learns something more until the soul reaches the stage of Mukti, or complete enlighten-ment. This is the goal that all Hindus must work towards. At the stage of Mukti, which happens after many lifetimes, the soul is reunited with Brahman. Now, you may ask, what determines when and where a soul is reborn?

  ‘This brings us to the theory of karma. Karma literally means deed, and as a theory it outlines the cause-and-effect nature of life. Karma is not to be confused with fate. Man has free will and

creates his destiny based upon his actions. The most dramatic illustration of karma is found in the Hindu epic, the Mahabharata. The Hindu concept of karma was also adopted by other religions, such as Buddhism. 33

  ‘The theory of karma is not really crazy when one thinks about it. Almost all religions have at some point of time in their histories believed in reincarnation—including Christianity. References to reincarnation in the New Testament were deleted only in the fourth century when Christianity became the official religion of the Roman Empire. It was sometime in the year A.D. 553 that the second Council of Constantinople declared reincarnation as heresy. These decisions were intended to increase the power of the Church by making people believe that their salvation depended solely on the Church.’ 34   

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