The Rozabal Line (21 page)

Constantinople, A.D. 337

Roman Emperor Constantine lay on his deathbed. He had decided to be baptised into the Christian faith before his death. After all, in A.D. 312, he had been able to defeat his rival for the imperial throne, Maxentius, only through Christian support.165

During his lifetime, he had been sympathetic to the Christian cause but had essentially remained a sun worshipper. In fact, Constantine had ordered the judiciary to observe its weekly holiday on Sunday, which was the 'venerable day of the sun'. Christians, on the other hand, had continued to have their weekly rest on the Jewish Sabbath--Saturday. The Christians now fell in line with Constantine's edict and began observing their weekly rest on Sunday. This brought Christianity closer to existing Roman practice.

The birthday of Jesus, which till then had been celebrated on 6 December, was changed to 25 December. This was done in order to bring Christianity in line with the existing 25 December celebrations of the Roman festival of Natalis Invictus.

Christianity was now being marketed to a Roman audience. Jesus could not merely be a messiah or a teacher if he had to be marketed to the Romans; he had to be a God. One that was greater than the mythology of Mithras, Horus, Tammuz or Krishna. It was necessary to have a virgin birth, and it was imperative to have miracles.

It was critical to have a resurrection. He needed to have a stature that was greater than Buddha or Zarathustra, who were merely messengers. Jesus had to be divine!

It also marked the end of the theory of reincarnation. As usual, Constantinople would be at the centre of it all.

Constantinople, Turkey, A.D. 553

'If anyone asserts the fabulous pre-existence of souls, and asserts the monstrous restoration which follows from it, let him be anathema,' shouted the church elders.166

129

Origen, the third-century Christian theologian (and pupil of Ammonius Saccas) had written that 'The soul has neither beginning nor end . . . it comes into this world strengthened by the victories or weakened by the defeats of its previous existence . .

.'167 This view was not uncommon. Early Christians seem to have believed that the soul existed even before the birth of a person. This was similar to several tenets of Greek, Buddhist and Hindu philosophy.

In A.D. 553, around three centuries after Origen's death, Emperor Justinian convened the Second Council of Constanti-nople. The Council passed the infamous resolution that 'If anyone asserts the fabulous pre-existence of souls, and asserts the monstrous restoration which follows from it, let him be anathema.'

That marked the end of the theory of reincarnation within Christianity, and the beginning of the marketing of Jesus. And no one knew how to design and market a package better than the French.

Lyons, France, A.D. 185

Irenaeus, the Bishop of Lugdunum in Gaul, had just written Adversus Haereses, or Against Heresies. In his work he refuted Gnostic teachings completely while strongly claiming that the four gospels that he espoused were the four pillars of the Church--these were the four Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.

The Gospels that said that Jesus was born of a virgin, in a manger, with the star of Bethlehem hovering overhead. The same Gospels that said that Jesus had turned water into wine, that he had walked on water, and that he had raised a man from the dead. The same Gospels that stated that he had risen from the dead.

Serapis, Osiris, Horus, Hermes, Mercury, Imhotep, Krishna, Buddha, Mithras, Perseus, Theseus, Hercules, Bacchus, Hyacinth, Nimrod, Marduk, Tammuz, Adonis, Baal, Quetzalcoatl, Baldur, Tien, Attis, Hesus, Crite, Orisaoko, Mahavira and Zarathustra, were just some of the gods, prophets, messengers, or angels who shared commonalities with Jesus Christ.168

They belonged to various time periods prior to Jesus and to various geographical spaces including Egypt, Greece, Persia, India, China, Babylonia and Mexico, among others. Some of them were born of virgins. Some were born in caves or mangers. Many of their births were heralded by astral formations. Some of them were visited by wise men. Indeed, there was a great deal of material available to create a story around the historical Jesus Christ.169

Often, they were in mortal danger and had to be taken away elsewhere, either for protection or into exile. Many of them had to overcome the temptations of the devil.

Most of them performed miracles. Virtually all of them preached love and forgiveness.

Some of them wandered with disciples.

Some of them rose from the dead.

Or remained alive under a shroud in Turin.

Turin, Italy, 1988

Anastasio was humiliated. It was 13 October 1988. He, the cardinal of Turin, Anastasio Alberto Ballestrero, was being compelled to tell the world that the Shroud of Turin was a hoax!170

130

A group of eminent scientists had cut a small sample from the edge of the shroud and carried out carbon dating on it. The Roman Catholic Church was left with no alternative but to accept the finding that the Shroud of Turin was a hoax. It was a difficult position to accept, particularly in view of the fact that eight years earlier Pope John Paul II had kissed the same shroud in reverence.

Subsequently, several scientists would show that the original carbon dating had been flawed because the sample collection itself had been flawed. More important, the blood on the shroud had the rare blood group AB.

Oviedo, Spain, 1988

The blood on the Sudarium was also the rare group AB. The Sudarium was a small, bloody cloth kept in a cathedral in Oviedo in Spain. It was believed that this garment had been used to cover the head of Jesus after his crucifixion. Unlike the patchy history of the shroud, the history of the Sudarium could be traced back to the first century. This meant that if one considered the Sudarium to be genuine, it also increased the odds of the shroud being genuine.171

Was it possible that the shroud, while dating from the time of Jesus, could be from another crucifixion during the same period?

While it was true that the wounds would have been similar in all cases of crucifixion, the one factor that had been significantly different in the case of Jesus was the crown of thorns that the Roman soldiers had placed on his head. The shroud in Turin, as well as the Sudarium in Spain, clearly indicated head wounds caused by precisely such a crown.

According to the Gospels, 'Joseph brought a large linen cloth, took Jesus off the cross, wrapped him in the cloth and laid him in a tomb.' On Easter morning, this garment was found 'folded together on one side of the tomb' and would later reach Abgar V.

King Abgar V ruled Edessa, an independent principality in southeastern Anatolia, around the time of Jesus's death. The king had been suffering from leprosy and heard that Jesus could heal lepers. He wrote to Jesus requesting him to visit Edessa, but Jesus was unable to go.

After the crucifixion of Jesus, it was believed that two disciples of Jesus had taken the shroud in which he had been buried to Edessa, and Abgar had been miraculously healed. Abgar became a devout follower and had the cloth affixed on top of one of the city's main gates. The cloth had been folded in such a way that only the face could be seen.

After Abgar's death, his kingdom gradually forgot about Jesus and reverted to older religious beliefs and customs. In A.D. 525, when the city walls were reconstructed, the shroud was rediscovered. It reached Constantinople around 420

years later and was finally moved to Turin in northern Italy in 1578.

Abgar V was lucky to have been healed. By the 'Leader of the Healed', Yuz Asaf?

It was in 1898 that the photographer, Secondo Pia, was able to see a negative film of the shroud, and this was even more remarkable. The negative, for the first time, actually showed in stunning detail the image that had been hidden within the garment.

131

The commonly accepted findings were that the image was definitely that of a crucified person. The bloodstains were real and were of the rare blood type AB. There were no brush strokes or pigments. The weave was typical of the Middle East.

Examination of pollen taken from the shroud indicated the presence of pollen from plants specific to Palestine in the times of Jesus. Traces of coins minted by Pilate in A.D.

29 and A.D. 31 were found on the portion of the shroud that would have covered the eyes. Street dust was found in the area where the feet would have been. The image had been created from chemical saccharides, which were synthesised by the proximity of the cloth to the body.

According to the late Professor Bonte, who was the head of the department for forensic science at the University of Dusseldorf, ' . . . everything speaks for the fact that the blood circulation activity had not ceased yet'.

Several scientists now believe that the man under the shroud must have been alive, not dead.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Hoshiarpur, Punjab, India, 2011

The Bhrigu Samhita was an exceptionally long treatise that had been compiled in ancient India by a sage called Maharishi Bhrigu. The Maharishi had been the first person to compile half a million horoscopes of individuals to build a database for predictive astrology.172

Maharishi Bhrigu had collected details of the lives and events of half a million people along with their dates, times and places of birth. He and his disciples had then charted horoscopes for each of these people based on the planetary positions of the sun, moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn, at the time of birth.

Using this extensive database, Maharishi Bhrigu had provided predictions and horoscope readings for each of the individuals. The result had been a database that held forty-five million permutations that could be used for predictive astrology.

During the Islamic conquests of India from the seventh century onwards, the invaders had looted these miraculous documents that had been lovingly preserved by the Brahmins. The destruction of the ancient Nalanda University in Maghada had further decimated the exhaustive work carried out under the Maharishi. Eventually, only around 1,00,000 horoscopes that had formed part of the original half-million database remained in India, and these were scattered all over the country. One chunk of this original lot remained with a Brahmin family in the dusty town of Hoshiarpur.

The heir to the prized treasure was Pandit Ramgopal Prasad Sharma, the world-famous astrologer who practised his art every alternate week at the Taj Mahal Hotel in Mumbai. He now sat under the banyan tree outside his ancestral home, poringover the parchments that constituted his life. He had a troubled expression on his face. In fact, he had not been able to sleep at night. He should never have sharpened his predictive skills to the extent that he had succeeded in doing; it only caused excessive worry.

132

His chance encounter with the man who had wanted the date reference from his ephemeris had troubled him. He had been on a routine visit to the divine Mother Goddess at Vaishno Devi in Jammu when this meeting had happened. He had immediately returned to Hoshiarpur to consult his Bhrigu Samhita. He was absolutely convinced. The end of the world was at hand.

He got up and walked to the post office. Pandit Ramgopal did not own a telephone. From the post office, he phoned one of his clients who wasan important man in the Indian intelligence services. He needed him to arrange an audience with General Prithviraj Singh.

New Delhi, India, 2012

'Your name begins with the letter "P". Your father's name begins with the letter

"P". Your mother's name begins with the letter "P". The year of your birth sums up to twenty-two,' said Pandit Ramgopal Prasad Sharma.

Prithviraj. Padamraj. Parvathi. 1957. 1+9+5+7=22. Prithviraj was stunned. He didn't know this man and yet this stranger seemingly knew lots about him.

'Who are you, sir?' enquired Prithviraj. 'And how do you know who I am?'

'My name is Pandit Ramgopal Prasad Sharma. I am from Hoshiarpur in Punjab, and I have travelled a great distance simply to meet you. I was not only able to predict when and where I would meet you, but also what you looked like. That's why I could find you.'

'Me? Why me?'

'Son, I think we had better sit down and talk. There are many things that will need to be explained.' Intrigued, General Prithviraj Singh led Pandit Ramgopal Prasad Sharma to the sitting area of his simple home.

'Tell me, Mr Sharma, who are you and how have you heard of me? More important, how did you track me down?'

'I need you to promise me something first,' said the wise old astrologer.

'And what is that?'

'I need you to promise me that you will keep an open mind and will not let your judgement be clouded by Western tendencies to treat the inexplicable as unscientific,'

said Sharmamatter-of-factly.

'Don't you think you are prejudging me? Anyway, I promise.'

'Fine. Now hear this. I am a Brahmin from Punjab. I have in my possession one of the oldest documents in Hindu history, the Bhrigu Samhita--a database of over half a million horoscopes that can accurately predict future events. If an original leaf containing the horoscope of an individual is available in the database, it will not only accurately recount the past and accurately predict the future, but will also reveal the date, time and place of consultation. Recently, when I was studying the Bhrigu, I stumbled across a horoscope that indicated that I would have to make a reading here in New Delhi, today, to you. This is why I am here,' said Sharma.

Prithviraj was baffled. 'But why did you specifically make the effort of locating me? What was the urgency?'

'You are the only person who has the power to save us from destruction, my 133

son. On the winter solstice of 2012, the noonday sun exactly conjuncts the crossing point of the sun's ecliptic with the galactic plane, while also closely conjuncting the exact centre of the galaxy. This day occurs on 21 December 2012. Your horoscope indicates that you have the power to save a man of God who holds the key to the riddle.'

'Why should I believe you?' asked Prithviraj, rather irritably.

'You lost your father when you werefifteen, your mother when you were twenty-nine. Yours is an old soul that has been through many human lifetimes. This could be your final one, before you attain moksha. You have neither a brother nor sister. You were born and brought up in Punjab but studied in the West, possibly England, America, or both. Most important, you had a brother, for a while, in spirit.'

Prithviraj sat still, awestruck by the accuracy of Sharma's readings. Then he spoke, 'I never had a brother.'

'Yes, you did. Your mother produced a stillborn son in the seventh month of her pregnancy. He is the brother that you had in the spirit world who I am referring to. He is no longer in the spirit world--he has taken rebirth in some other family,' said Sharma confidently.

'Well, there's only one way to find out,' said Prithviraj, as he got up to use the phone to call his aunt, his mother's younger sister, who lived in Amritsar. She picked up the phone on the fourth ring.

'Auntyji,' he said, using the familiar Punjabi-Indian fusion term. 'Listen, I need to ask you something.'

'Bolo puttar. Go ahead, son.'

'Did Ma go through another pregnancy after I was born?'

'Beta, what's this about?'

'No time for explanations, Auntyji. Just tell me, please.'

'Okay. She went through a pregnancy, which turned out to be near fatal. The doctors were able to save her but not the child . . . a son.'

'And when did this happen, do you remember?'

'I think it was about a year or two after they had you.'

'The child was stillborn?'

'Unfortunately, yes. Your parents never told you because they did not want to burden you with something that they thought was of no relevance in your life.'

'How old was the baby?'

'I think the emergency C-section was done a couple of months before full term.

However, the bone marrow transplant was successful.'

'Bone marrow?'

'Puttar, you had been diagnosed with thalassemia as an infant. The only solution was a bone marrow transplant from a sibling. That's why your parents had another child . . . to save you.'

Prithviraj was silent as he digested the enormity of this information. 'Thank you, Auntyji. I'll come and see you when I visit Amritsar in a few weeks.'

Prithviraj hung up. He looked over at the old man sitting calmly on the sofa, 134

running the prayer beads through his fingers. He walked over to him.

'Fine. You're not a con. So what?'

'Son, the brother who died . . . he took on your karma to save you. You were destined to die, but he died for you instead. He has died or killed for you in previous lifetimes too. He has a karmic relationship with you.'

'Fine, but what does this have to do with 21 December?'

'Son,' began Sharma, 'I see utter destruction on that day. Clouds of poison. Total darkness. Dense smoke that suffocates everything in its path. A huge ball of fire that touches the skies. I see colossal human tragedy. But most important, I see a rainbow in the sky which tells me that there could be a way to avert this disaster.'

Prithviraj froze. 'Are you saying that there will be some sort of explosion or earthquake?'

'Worse! An earthquake would be putting it rather mildly. It seems like a manmade tragedy. More in the nature of a colossal bomb of some sort.'

'And I can avert this?' asked the general incredulously.

'Yes.'

'How?'

'Find the priest I met in Mumbai,' said Sharma.

'Vincent Sinclair? I'm already trying to locate him.'

'And son . . .'

'Yes.'

'That brother, who died for you . . .'

'Yes?'

'You will know when you have to return the favour.'

'Do you believe in destiny?' asked General Prithviraj Singh.

'Unmeitte shinjiru?' heard Pandit Ramgopal.173

'What was that?' asked Pandit Ramgopal.

'Do you believe in destiny?' repeated the general.

'Unmeitte shinjiru?' heard Ramgopal again.

Pandit Ramgopal Prasad Sharma got up.

He said excitedly, 'Prithviraj, there is a Japanese connection. I am sensing a dangerous woman. She has what is called a Paap-Katri Yog or a Vish-Kanya Yog. The force is feminine. Her moon is afflicted and surrounded by malevolent planets--Saturn, Mars as well as Rahu-Ketu. This makes her maniacal. She will not hesitate to kill. I had warned Vincent Sinclair about precisely this negative force.'

'Where can I find her?' asked the general.

Goa, India, 2012

Further away, towards the outskirts of Goa, Vincent surveyed his surroundings.

The dim lighting and musty feel of the room gave the impression that this was a basement. Towering over him was Swakilki. Vincent squinted, trying to bring her face into focus. He tried adjusting his body and then realised that his hands and feet had been tied.

'You have been snooping!' barked Swakilki.

135

'What? No. Where am I? It's you . . .' began Vincent, recollecting the Japanese woman he had seen several times in passing.

Before he could complete his sentence, he felt a stinging slap across his face.

'Shut up!' she hissed. The venom in her voice was blood-curdling. 'Do not play games with me. You have been tracking a prey that you had no business to.'

Vincent was completely disoriented. He didn't have an answer. 'Look, I really do not know what you are talking about. I would like to cooperate, but I am lost. What are you talking about?'

Swakilki looked at him with contempt. 'My guest seems to have lost his memory.

He seems to have forgotten his extended conversations with Brother Thomas Manning.

He has conveniently forgotten his past-life sessions in London with Professor Terry Acton. Has he also forgotten the Bom Jesus papers that Acton gave him? I think he needs a jolt to be brought to his senses.'

Vincent couldn't believe what he was hearing. Thomas Manning had promised to keep his conversation confidential. And why was this woman aware of Terry Acton?

How did she know of the Bom Jesus papers? Was there a conspiracy that was being covered up? Could Terry's research have made someone uncomfortable?

Vincent kept staring at Swakilki with a glazed expression on his face. In his brain, he kept seeing himself as the bodyguard killing Mama Anawarkhi to prevent her from plotting against the King Sapa Inca Pachacuti. Swakilki morphed into Mama Anawarkhi.

She then morphed back into Swakilki. She then morphed into the Empress Wu Zhao, the evil power on the throne, as she shattered his limbs and placed him in a large wine urn to die a slow death in agony. Wu Zhao morphed back into Swakilki. Then back into Charlotte Lavoisier as she stabbed Jean-Paul Pelletier. He saw Sanson chopping off her head and then saw Swakilki chopping off Terry Acton's head. Swakilki then morphed into a woman who was . . . no, this was not possible . . . Mary Magdalene! As usual, she was blurred--he was seeing several Mary Magdalenes! He was going crazy! Then it wasback to Swakilki.174

That was when he realised the full significance of Swakilki. He had several past-life connections with her, the present being just one among a series of lifetimes.

'Listen to me, please,' pleaded Vincent. 'I think I know what is happening. My interest in the subject that you spoke of is purely academic . . . why don't you tell me what you want and I'll see if I can fill in some of the blanks.'

'See how the mighty have fallen,' remarked Swakilki sarcastically as she grabbed a fistful of the hair on his head and breathed into his face. 'Now you listen to me . . .

you will do exactly as I say . . . do I make myself clear? I will not have you meddling around.' Vincent nodded dumbly in fear as she left the room, the lock clicking firmly in place as she closed the door.

Vincent's arms and legs were hurting. She had used a rough twine rope to tie his arms behind his back. His legs were tied together at the ankles. He had been in the same position for several hours. His head was pounding and his throat was parched. He was unable to figure out where he was. The basement seemed unused and was dark, damp and musty. With the exception of the entrance door to the far right of the room, 136

there were no other doors or windows. A lone, naked ten-watt light bulb hung from a cable in the ceiling, casting a dim light where he lay.

The door was suddenly flung open and the Japanese woman barged in. 'Dinner is served, Your Grace,' she remarked as she put a tin plate containing some rounds of naan and lentils in front of him, along with a plastic bottle of water.

'I can't eat with my hands tied,' mumbled Vincent and was treated to another stinging slap from Swakilki for being rude. 'You will speak when spoken to, am I clear?'

she said to him. She untied Vincent's hands and pointed her Beretta 93R automatic at him. 'One false move and I'll blow your brains out!' she said. Vincent was not particularly hungry, but he knew he needed to preserve his strength. He wolfed down the food that had been offered with several gulps of water from the plastic bottle.