Who knows if the original Amit Kumar himself is not a reincarnation of some other character that was… that passed away to give birth to this Amit Kumar, for the time being… for this lifespan of his, that is! K amala hated to have to rush, but invariably she ended up doing so. Yet she always got late for her appointments. The quirks of the clock constantly eluded her like a regular system that frequently turned chaotic, without the slightest warning. But today she was extraordinarily cautious. In fact, she was full seven minutes early with respect to her time of appointment when she rang the bell at a door bearing the sign, in ornate calligraphy, the letters: Prof.
Vishwanath Singh. Kamala looked for some fine print to spell out the professional designation, but there was none. She removed her sunglasses to deposit them in her small purse, pulled the end of her sari over her right shoulder, and patiently waited. I was just expecting you.
I am Professor Vishwanath Singh. Please come in. After brief preliminaries, Prof. Vishwanath Singh directly came to the point. How can I help you? Kamala expected the question, even though she knew he must have been briefed by Dr Chitta Ranjan Varma about her. Dr Varma said you are the greatest master of hypnosis in all of Delhi, if not in all of India.
Singh was quick to comment. I also know your intention, generally. What I wanted to hear from you is your reasoning for wanting to try hypnosis. Tell me what appeals to you about hypnosis. I want to know more about it, including subjecting myself to it. And who knows, it might do me some good. I have suffered from depression for years. Dr Varma is continuing his medication to treat the chemical imbalance he says is causing it.
I wish to augment this course of treatment with hypnotherapy to see where it takes me. Singh replied. You would have to stomach both good and bad in the same stride. Do you think you are brave enough for this?
Singh, confidently. Many people remember not only their past lives under regression, but actually remember very specific details of past events as if they were experiencing it in the present moment. Vishwanath Singh, supposedly the greatest authority on hypnosis in all of Delhi, if not in all of India.
Is this really possible?
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S age Vishwamitra sat still, in the forest, eyes closed, performing tapasya , a supreme level of meditation and severe penance, thoroughly detached from the world: a common practice among the great Indian sages to gain special mental powers and divine bliss. Years passed by. The king of the lesser gods, Indra, feared the sage would attain Godhood and might even challenge him for the kingship of gods in heaven. Though an immortal god, he suffered from such fears like mortals on the earth.
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He sent for Menaka, the most beautiful and gifted celestial nymph. Amit Kumar paused. What was he writing? This is no history. Celestial nymph! Do these words have meanings that a common rational terrestrial reader can relate to and accept? Or are these purely mythological figures, figments of imagination of the seer who authored this tale? Likely, because some part of the relevant history was amiss and an elegant substitution was judged as an attractive option.
Amit made a note to himself that he had to resolve this dilemma eventually. It would be painfully frustrating to get stuck at the very start.
Menaka brought to bear on Vishwamitra her arsenal of heavenly charms, with song and dance only one from the paradise could possess. She was finally successful in distracting the sage from his tapasya. He opened his eyes and saw the heavenly beauty, ready to offer herself. The famed sage—King Vishwamitra—once poised to serve the highest throne in the world and heaven, would no longer be a threat to Indra.
In time, Vishwamitra and Menaka had a daughter. As soon as the baby girl was born, Menaka decided to return to her permanent abode, heaven. Sage Kanva found the abandoned baby girl, protected under the wings of the shakun bird.
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He brought her to his ashram, named her Shakuntala—the one found from under the wings of the shakun bird—and raised her as his own daughter. Shakuntala grew up to become a most beautiful young lady. One day, King Dushyanta came to the ashram after his hunting expedition in the nearby forest. Sage Kanva happened to be away. The good king saw Shakuntala, and the two fell in love. It was love at the first sight on both sides. After a few days, King Dushyanta had to leave the ashram to attend to some urgent business at his capital.
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Sage Kanva was still away, so they had to still postpone their formal marriage ceremony. The king gave his royal ring to Shakuntala. Once, Sage Durvasa came to the ashram and asked for alms. Durvasa, well known for his short temper, became enraged and cursed Shakuntala that the person she was thinking about would totally forget her. The sage made a concession: if Shakuntala produced the ring given to her by King Dushyanta, his memory of her would be restored. Such powers! Amit felt a sense of profound awe.
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Sage Durvasa pronounces his curse and King Dushyanta, in his capital, miles away, loses all memory of Shakuntala. He could not quite explain it. Should he regard it in the category of mythology too?