One Long Evening with Dr. Sinha, Part II

June 2, 1981

Another Aspect of the Light 

“Now, tell me about some of the holy men that you have met,” Sinha instructs without allowing for any delay.

“I am certainly glad to do that,” I respond, “but my experiences in this line are so miniscule compared to yours. I would rather hear your experiences.”

“We will do both. Tell me those whom you have met, and I will also tell you about my experiences.”

In the past hour I have seen all the lights in the neighborhood go off. I know it is very late, and I am afraid to look at my watch. I am in no mood to make small talk, so I give him a brief description of the sages I have met.

As I pause in my descriptions, Sinha swiftly and without allowing a slack in the conversation, starts telling me of some of the people he has met and the experiences he has had. This continues for almost half an hour. 

Suddenly, he gets up from his prone position and asks me what time it is. His sudden move startles me. It is 12:25 a.m., June 3rd.

Now he explains this obvious stalling. “Mr. Mathur, I have been purposely holding you here. You could have left at any time, and I would not have stopped you. But I have been making it difficult for you to leave. It is now quiet and peaceful, so we will no longer be interrupted and your mind is calm. Now you will have a chance to see another aspect of the Light.”

Sinha begins, “Where in your house is a table that is located between two cabinets?”

“I cannot think of any,” I reply.

“The table is in a north-south position and is not made of wood but of some shiny material,” Sinha affirms.

“I cannot think of any,” I protest.

Sinha states confidently, “Close by the table, maybe in another room, is another table which is dark steel.”

My mind is in total confusion. There is no such furniture in our house, and I tell him so. 

There is a brief pause and he says, “Most likely we are at your office and the reason it looks like your house is because this furniture is styled for a house and not an office. But since there is some confusion about it, let us go to some other place.”

Now things become clear to me. Indeed, there is furniture in my office like that he is describing. My desk is placed north and south and has a clear Lucite top without any drawers, so it resembles a table top rather than a desk. The desks of both DeAnn Corbin, my assistant, and my wife, Treva, are black steel.

Sinha continues, “Your wife right now is wearing olive-green clothes. There is another woman there, close by, older than her, who is also wearing olive-green, and this lady is wearing a blouse which looks as though it has a buckle.” He points to a position for the buckle over her breast. I make a note to check with Treva and ask where she was on June 3 between 2 and 3 p.m., Wichita time. (I later learned that she was at Girl Scout camp, wearing a dark green uniform. Another older lady, wearing a similar uniform, had a wooden name plate hung on a string over her chest.)

“There is a train in your house. It is on the lower level of your house. Is your house split-level?” Sinha asks.

“No, but the house has a basement,” I reply.

He says, “Then the train must be in the basement. It has several black wagons, but one car is of reddish color.”

“That is correct,” I confirm.

“I see several children playing, and one child falling and getting hurt on their right side and getting a small cut right above the eye below the eyebrow.” He points to the exact location with his finger. “But because of the child’s good ‘sanskars’ the eye is saved and even the mark is not noticeable. The event has already occurred. Is this correct?” he asks.

“Yes, my daughter fell and hurt herself exactly at that spot a few years ago,” I tell him.

“One of your children’s interests in music will be revived this year. The child became frustrated and wanted to give up the study of music because of a dislike of a teacher when the child was in  4th or 5th grade,” Sinha states.

Our daughter had, in fact, decided to quit cello lessons because of dislike for her teacher. (Upon returning to Wichita, I learned that my daughter had decided to continue her lessons. This was not known to me at the time of my meeting with Sinha.)

 Sinha states, “I see two children, a son and a daughter. The girl is the elder of the two.”

“That’s right,” I say.

“Your mother recently had pains in her chest or neck, and I see another lady in your house in Allahabad who shows too much movement. She is not American. These two facts would lead me to believe that she is not your wife. I see she is most likely your sister. (My mother had angina, which is why my sister also was there.) I see her husband working in an office, a technical man.”

“But she is not married,” I interrupt.

“In that case, she will soon marry. Her education was interrupted twice. She is American educated. She will be married at the age of 32. She is small in size, petite. In the past five years, she has had a radical change in her life. I see her doing something with leather in her hands. Most likely she may do some leather handicraft. I see leather or something similar in her hands.”

“Anything else about her?” I ask.

“Yes, she has some problems connected with her nerves, most likely in the brain. But she will be OK. She also had some skin disease. At times she had stomach problems. She has had headaches. These headaches were on one side of her head. They started at the rise of the sun and moved with the sun. She should take Natram Mur (a homeopathic remedy), one million potency, one dose, then after three weeks, she should take one dose of the same medicine of ten million potency. The headaches will go away. Her past five to seven years have been very disturbed. If she does not get married now, then her marriage will be delayed quite a bit. 

 “Any other questions of any sort?” Sinha inquires.

“No,” I reply.

“I see a problem for you with a ring. Recently, you or someone associated with you, bought a ring. It was an oval-shaped ring with what appears to be diamonds on the outside.” He goes on to tell me the exact price that I paid for the ring. “What was the problem?” he asks.

“It was stolen.”

“Your loss will be recovered after June 20 or October 21,” Sinha assures me.

“At the time of the ring purchase, another piece of jewelry was also purchased. It was a pendant or a necklace.” He proceeds to describe the exact shape and price of the necklace I purchased.

“Someone associated with you is having earaches.”  

“Yes, my younger sister and also myself.”

“They will be OK soon.”

Now Sinha is in deep trance and subjects start to change rapidly and are described incompletely. 

“I see someone bought shoes near the main police station,” he continues speaking while in  trance.

“Yes,” I reply. “I bought a pair of wooden clogs yesterday, just opposite the main police station.”

“The clogs have a brass nail or inlay in them.”

“No.”

“In that case, you will buy another pair that has brass inlay.” He sounds very confident.

“At the time you bought the clogs, someone there also bought some essence.”

“True.”

“At your home in America, I see a small dog. He is quite small in size compared to a German Shepherd. This dog is of a good pedigree and has lots of hair. He is a shade of brown.”

“Correct. We do have a chocolate-colored purebred poodle,” I confirm.

Jesus Christ, Perfect Yogi

At this time, it seems as if Sinha has come out of his trance. There is a short pause, and then he asks, “Have you read the life of Jesus Christ?”

“I have.”“What a beautiful life. He was a perfect Yogi (one who has attained union with God). He was the reincarnation of Shiva. Jesus Christ was the best teacher of the way of love. Look at the concept of service that these Christians have. They practice love. The other day I was at the Nazareth hospital, and I found out that one of the Catholic priests comes there regularly just to comfort the dying. How beautiful. None of us Hindus do that. The world has to learn the idea of service from the Christians. Recently, I bought several copies of a book called Esu Krist (Jesus Christ). The book is in Hindi. Anyone who comes and talks to me fanatically about his religion receives a copy from me. I am out of copies now, or I would give you one. Another good book you would enjoy is Just for a Moment. It describes how one should profitably spend the 365 days of the year.”