The afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over Dr. Suman’s living room in Chandigarh. Despite the brightness outside, the air inside was thick with tension, a sense of unresolved pain that lingered just beneath the surface. Dr. Suman, a renowned dentist in her 60s, sat across from me. Her posture was straight, yet I could sense the fragility in her demeanor, a silent plea for help that belied her once-confident exterior.
Dr. Suman’s life had been marked by success in her career, but her personal life had been marred by trauma and suffering. At the age of 40, she divorced her first husband after enduring years of relentless domestic violence. The marriage, though childless, left deep emotional scars. For six long years after the divorce, she remained single, trying to heal the wounds inflicted by her past. Then, in a moment of hope and vulnerability, she remarried one of her patients—a widower with an adult son. She believed that this second marriage would bring her the love and stability she longed for, but instead, it brought more pain. Her new husband and his son were even more abusive, both physically and emotionally. They drained her of her wealth, her health, and her dignity, leaving her isolated and despairing.
Desperate and alone, Dr. Suman had turned to the police for help, but even they had been bribed, leaving her with no one to turn to. Finally, gathering what little courage she had left, she reached out to her neighbor, a former student of mine who had recently learned the art of past life regression. Recognizing the gravity of Dr. Suman’s situation, her neighbor contacted me, asking if I could help.
On the day of the regression, the atmosphere in Dr. Suman’s home was tense, yet there was a sense of quiet determination. After a light lunch, I prepared to guide her through the regression. This time, I decided to use a different method of induction—the Counting Down Method—which would allow her to gradually and deeply enter a state of hypnosis, exploring the memories that lay hidden in her subconscious mind.
“Dr. Suman, I want you to close your eyes and take a deep breath,” I began, my voice calm and steady. “With each breath, feel your body relaxing, letting go of all the tension and stress you’ve been carrying. Imagine yourself standing at the top of a beautiful staircase, each step leading you closer to peace and understanding. I’m going to count down from ten to one, and with each number, you’ll take a step down, feeling more relaxed, more at ease, more open to exploring your past.”
As I counted down, I watched as her body gradually relaxed, her breathing becoming slower, more measured. By the time I reached one, she was in a deep, relaxed state, ready to journey into her past.
“Now, Dr. Suman, I want you to go back to a time, a place where your soul has a story to tell. It could be a distant memory, or a life you’ve lived before this one. Just let the images, the feelings come to you.”
There was a long silence, and then her voice, distant and detached, began to speak. “I’m a man… a black man… in Africa. I’m a police officer.”
“Where are you?” I asked gently, guiding her deeper into the memory.
“In a village… it’s remote. I’m in charge of the slaves. They work for the powerful white men… all day in the scorching sun. They’re poorly fed, mistreated… there are 33 of them, all women,” she continued, her voice growing more strained with each word. “I’m… I’m cruel to them. I… I use three of them as… as my sex slaves.”
A chill ran down my spine as I listened to her recount this life, the life of a man who had inflicted unimaginable pain on others. “Tell me more,” I urged softly, allowing her to fully express the memories that were surfacing.
“I… I tortured them. Sexual acts… terrible acts. They were so weak, so fragile. When they became pregnant… I left them to die… or forced them to commit suicide.” Her voice broke, and I could hear the pain, the regret in her words.
“Who were these women?” I asked, though I could sense where this was leading.
A gasp escaped her lips, and tears began to stream down her face. “They… they were my first husband… my second husband… and his son… in this life.”
The room was thick with the weight of this revelation. Dr. Suman, still deep in her regressed state, began to sob uncontrollably. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know I would have to face this again… Please, forgive me… please… I’m so sorry…”
I allowed her to cry, to release the pent-up emotions that had been festering for so long. This was the moment of catharsis, the moment she had to confront the darkness of her past and its repercussions in this life. The trauma she had endured wasn’t just an unfortunate sequence of events; it was a karmic echo of her own actions from a life long past.
As she wept, I spoke gently, guiding her through the realization. “Dr. Suman, you’re beginning to understand that what you’ve experienced in this life is connected to your actions in a past life. This awareness is the first step toward healing. You’ve carried this burden long enough—it’s time to let it go.”
She nodded through her tears, a deep, wrenching sob escaping her. “I see it now… I see the marks on my body, the birthmarks… they were always there, reminders of the pain I caused. The body keeps the score, doesn’t it? Nothing goes unnoticed… nothing is without consequence.”
“Yes,” I agreed softly, “the body, the soul, they both carry the memories of our past actions. But now, you have the power to heal, to make peace with your past.”
I encouraged her to breathe deeply, to let each breath cleanse her spirit of the guilt and pain she had carried for so long. “With each breath, imagine the weight of your past lifting from your shoulders. Feel the lightness as you forgive yourself and release the guilt that no longer serves you.”
Gradually, her sobs began to subside, replaced by a quiet determination. “I… I want to forgive myself,” she whispered. “I want to move on… to be free of this… to live the rest of my life in peace.”
“You can, Dr. Suman. But first, you must forgive yourself. Understand that you’ve paid your karmic debt, and now it’s time to heal. Visualize those souls—the ones who were hurt by you—standing before you now, offering their forgiveness. Feel their forgiveness, and let it wash over you.”
I guided her to imagine each of these souls—her first husband, her second husband, and his son—standing before her, their faces softening, their hearts opening. “See the light in their eyes as they forgive you. Feel their forgiveness like a warm embrace, filling you with peace.”
She remained silent for a long moment, her body trembling slightly as she processed these emotions. And then, finally, a soft sigh of relief escaped her lips. “I… I see them… they’re smiling… they forgive me… I forgive myself.”
A calmness settled over her, a peace that had been absent for so many years. The trauma, the pain, the guilt—it all seemed to dissipate as she embraced this new understanding.
As I began to bring her out of the regression, I spoke softly, “Dr. Suman, as you ascend back up the staircase, you’ll bring with you this newfound peace, this awareness. You’ll feel lighter, freer, more at ease. When you reach the top, you’ll be fully awake, fully present, and ready to live your life with this new perspective.”
Her breathing became more steady, more controlled as she slowly returned to the present. When she finally opened her eyes, they were clear, free of the shadows that had haunted her for so long.
“How do you feel?” I asked, already sensing the change within her.
“Free,” she said simply, a small smile playing on her lips. “For the first time in years… I feel free.”
I nodded, feeling a deep sense of fulfillment. “You’ve taken the first step toward healing, Dr. Suman. Remember, the past may have shaped you, but it doesn’t define you. You have the power to create a new future, one filled with peace and self-love.”
I encouraged her to focus on the present, to use daily affirmations to reinforce the sense of peace and forgiveness she had found. “Each morning, remind yourself that you are free from the past, that you deserve love and peace. Let this affirmation guide you as you move forward.”
As she sat there, absorbing the enormity of what she had just experienced, I knew that this was only the beginning of her journey. But it was a journey she was now ready to undertake, armed with the knowledge that nothing in life goes unnoticed, and every action has its consequences. Yet, with awareness and forgiveness, there is always a path to healing.
Dr. Suman wasn’t just a survivor—she was a woman reborn, ready to reclaim her life with a strength that came from deep within.
As I sat with her, I was reminded of the profound lessons that past life regression can teach us. The realization that her current suffering was tied to her actions in a past life was a pivotal moment for Dr. Suman. It allowed her to understand the deeper connections between her past and present, and to begin the process of healing. It showed her that while the past shapes us, it doesn’t have to define us. We have the power to break free from the cycles of pain and suffering, to forgive ourselves, and to create a new, brighter future.
In that moment, I could see that Dr. Suman had not only found the answers she was seeking but had also begun to find peace within herself. And as she left the room that day, there was a lightness in her step, a newfound sense of freedom that had been missing for so long.
This case serves as a reminder that healing is possible, no matter how deep the wounds. It shows us that by confronting our past, understanding our karmic connections, and embracing forgiveness, we can transcend the pain and live a life filled with love, peace, and purpose.
