A new Life [ Story]

I suddenly woke up that night. I specifically remember the date as well. It was 20th November 2008. The dream was not scary, but strange.

“I had a weird dream” I said to Karl and tried to wake him up. Karl and I entered into a relationship just a few months back.

“It’s too late Lauren, we shall discuss it tomorrow” he replied back in half asleep state. That was the first time I dreamt about that mysterious man. It was soon followed by a series of dreams where I saw him again and again. One constant uncanny feature of it was that all through those dreams, I saw myself not as a woman, but as a man. 

I am Lauren, my metamorphosis to a new life is nothing less than miraculous. I am a practicing psychologist as well as a substance abuse counselor. My area of expertise is drug addiction. I have a past I could never be proud of. When I look at it now, I get goose bumps. By 2003 during my college days, I had become a medical case of a drug addict. I was only 20 then. I don’t know how it happened. It started from party, pleasure and fun, but soon turned into addiction. Every week I was spending around 1000 dollars to get high on Heroin. It all gave me so much pleasure that I was not aware that my life was going down. It was painful for my father to watch me in that state every day. In spite of being a doctor himself he could not do much. Under his supervision, I had been to rehabilitation centers a couple of times, but even that did not had much impact on me. My brother, who is a successful businessman now, snapped all ties with me during that point of time. He only met me later and was stunned by my unbelievable change. The most tragic in all of this was my mother’s life. 

“I shall weep for you, till you become normal and come back to me” my mother use to tell me almost every day, but it never had any impact upon me.

She wept often at my addiction. I was the sole reason for her anguish. Driven by that attachment towards me she found it difficult to sleep at nights. She kept thinking about me. Every now and then she encouraged my father to seek some new treatment for me.

The way I was ruining my life was unbearable for her. On numerous occasions she consoled me, had a conversation with me, and loved me in the best way she could. She gave up her job and remained at home to take care of me. But I always found excuses to get close to drugs. I lost all interest in studies and performed miserably at college. Friends drifted away from me. I was a loner. I was also arrested a couple of times and she came to my rescue always. Whenever she discontinued giving me money, fearing that I will spent the same on drugs, I offered my body to those dealers in exchange of heroin. A quick act of sex will get me desired dosage of heroin and I never regretted it. 

My mother eventually died of a heart attack without seeing any change in me. I turned her hope into despair. I was the reason for her death, I saw it all, but I just felt anything. Under the influence of drugs, for me everything was like a dream world. I use to remain in a state of high most of the time. That day when her body was kept at home, I was busy in my room with a pile of heroin. If she could see my transformation now from somewhere she will surely weep, but in great joy. Now when I watch those old videos of my college days, I get a shiver down my spine. 

More than a decade later, in the present year of 2015, at the age of 32, I am a changed woman after a major surgery that I went through. I am doing well professionally and personally. I have a caring boyfriend and a well paid job. I am back in touch with my brother. My father is a relieved man to see me recover so well. More importantly, I am now helping people to come out of drug addiction and adding some value to their lives. I though deeply regretted that when I resumed my senses my mother was not there. I cursed myself for all the pain I inflicted upon her. But later that regret was replaced by a unique opportunity. 

I enjoyed that unbelievable change and I still do, but initially I was unable to understand it myself. It started that one night in November 2008, when I had that dream. I witnessed a man driving a car. After a few minutes the car halted, people came closer to that guy and called his name. I did not hear that name, but somehow, strangely enough, I felt that man was me. I just felt that it was me doing it all. I never had such a weird dream and the very next day I shared it with Karl and he also gave no attention to it.

Without thinking too much about the dream, I continued my life in a normal way. Father had retired by now and brother was doing well. As a normal practice, we use to meet once or twice every month at my father’s house. It was the last week of November 2008 when during the night at my father’s place I again saw that man in dream. It was again a feeling that I am that man. 

The next morning my father asked me, “What you want to have in lunch, honey?”

“I guess, chicken will be fine” I replied.

“Are you sure? You haven’t eaten non veg food in a very long time” my father said surprisingly.

“I know that, but I don’t know. I just feel like eating it. This is weird” I replied back.

Not only I ate chicken that day, but I ate a lot of onion in the lunch which was again queer for my father. He felt I had changed my eating habits. I always avoided eating onion as I cannot stand its smell which is nauseating. 

Gradually adding further to my changed habits, I developed an aversion for alcohol which I use to drink with great delight earlier. 

The most surprising of it all was the fact that not only I gave up drugs without any outside support, but on the contrary I started working out and kept myself in good shape. It was baffling for everyone, but I was enjoying it. I was least bothered to find out the reason behind this change. 

Few days later at my house during the middle of the night on 15th December 2008, I had it again. This time I saw him enjoying eating chicken with his friends on a trekking expedition. It was again the same feeling. Next morning I woke up and discussed it with Karl. He dismissed it yet again. 

Something popped in my mind. “Was I a man?” in my previous birth. “Is it related to reincarnation?”

such thoughts flooded my mind. I ordered couple of books and read them. I suspected that it may be related to my past birth as a man. I shared it with Karl and he heard it all with some interest. He also suspected the possibility of past birth connection.

First week of January 2009 saw it happening again during an afternoon sleep. This time Karl asked me, “What do you remember about that dream?”

“I don’t know. I saw his face. I can recognize it anywhere. I don’t hear his name though.” I replied.
Karl contemplated for few seconds and then asked, “Do you remember the number plate of the car that he drove in your dream.”

“Yes, I do. It is an old vintage car.” I replied back.

Just like me, now Karl also was curious to understand the reason behind my dreams. Soon we located the details of that mysterious man by the number plate of his car that he drove in my dreams. The color of his clothes, his face, his hair, the model of his car and its number plate, everything was etched in my mind clearly. We got the contact information. 

As we entered his house, we saw the same car parked outside it with exactly the same number plate. Karl told me that it was an old model that went out of production two decades ago. There was an uncanny feeling of comfort in me as if I already knew this place. It looked surprisingly familiar and I somehow expected the people will be known to me. In the garden of the house we saw an old lady sitting on a chair in silence enjoying the sunshine. It was a cold afternoon of February 2009. We introduced ourselves.

“You have this lovely car. If you want to sell it, we might be interested in purchasing the same.” Karl said this to start a conversation.

The lady had a look at the car and then replied “Joseph loved it. It is an old car, but in perfect health. It was a gift by my father in law to my husband and later my son Joseph took care of it”
“I was going to have some tea. Would you like to join me?” The lady asked us and we obliged.
As me and Karl entered the house, we saw a big frame of a good looking young man decorating the wall of dining hall. He appeared to be not more than 25. Karl glanced at me curiously and I nodded back in confirmation it. It was the picture of that same man from my dream. I immediately experienced some kind of a fondness, but could not explain it. There was an inexplicable connectedness.

“Who is this?” Karl asked the lady.

“This is Joseph, my son. That car belongs to him.” she replied back with a smile.
“Is he fond of alcohol?” I knew it may sound weird to ask suddenly, but I still went ahead with it.

“No. Never.” She replied back.

“Can I meet him?” Karl asked her.

Suddenly the smile was all gone from her face. The new expression on her face reflected her grief. She introspected for few seconds and then replied back in a heavy voice “He died seven months back in July 2008. I wish I had the power to change that. He loved us so much” 

I and Karl just stood there transfixed. We did not tell her anything about my dreams.

“We feel sorry for your loss” I said to Joseph’s mom and did not stay there any longer. Though she was a complete stranger for me, yet I felt emotionally attached to her and it was unusual for me. It was also confusing and mysterious for me to grasp what a dead man is doing in my dream and he died just few months back. That ruled out the possibility of any connection to my past birth.
Now the only thing that could come to our mind was my doctor. We called him and requested him to share with us anything that may be of some help in removing the confusion. He felt hesitant in some way and avoided speaking much about my dreams and its connection with Joseph. We felt that he was lying, but were not sure why. That night on 12th February 2009, I had that dream again and this time I saw Joseph with his mother. They were looking quite happy together. He hugged his mother, had a small conversation, and then went out. He never came back and met with an accident later. His mother wept profusely when his body was brought in front of her. I saw it all in the dream.
I suddenly woke up from that dream, not sweating though, but my eyes were filled with tears. I had no explanation in terms of logic behind those tears. Karl was equally amused and felt deeply concerned for me.

Couple of days later, I got a call from Joseph’s mother. “You came here, but you haven’t yet found the answers to your queries, isn’t it?” 

“I guess, yes” I replied back hesitatingly.

“Joseph loved working out and keeping himself fit. He loved eating chicken and enjoyed trekking expeditions with friends. He disliked alcohol” She told me.

“Why are you telling me all this?” I asked her.

“I thought, you should know it.” She replied back.

I was not sure what to say as I did not wanted to share anything and make myself appear as a fool. I remained silent and our conversation ended after few seconds. “How she knows

I was not sure what to say as I did not wanted to share anything and make myself appear as a fool. I remained silent and our conversation ended after few seconds. “How she knows that I came to meet her with something on my mind” I said to myself reassuring that Joseph’s mother must be just assuming it. I was growing more curious and weird thoughts were coming to my mind. The field of medicine rules out any such possibility that my mind was trying to create. Once a man is gone he is gone. There cannot be any trace of him left behind to be experienced by other humans.
I and Karl approached our doctor. After much persuasion he overlooked the confidentiality issues and told me that my donor was someone by the name of Joseph. He died in an accident few hours before my Heart transplant surgery took place. “Your heart was badly damaged by excessive use of Heroin and needed immediate replacement. You had very less chance of survival. Had it not been for Joseph’s heart, you wouldn’t have survived. I can only say this much” Doctor told us. 

By saying this the doctor indirectly conveyed to us the possibility of something, but we still failed to grasp it. Though the picture was becoming slightly clear, yet it was difficult to accept. We came back home unsatisfied and shared our confusion with others. No one had any answer. My father and brother, Karl’s father, mother and sister, they all just felt that this temporary phase of dreaming shall be over soon and I need not worry unnecessarily. My impatience and confusion encouraged me to carry out my own research to see where it leads me. What I found out literally startled me.
I have since then realized that in our sheer ignorance, we have glorified the brain as the thinking organ and heart as simply the blood pumping organ. This is not true. As I explored further, I found some rare cases where the donor apart from giving his heart donated some of his personality characteristics to the recipient. New researches have shown that heart not only carry muscles, but neurons as well. These neurons can carry or store information and that information sometimes gets transferred to the recipient in the form of character traits, habits and hobbies. 

New discoveries are changing our perceptions that heart is not merely involved in our feelings and emotions. Science is beginning to understand that a heart has its own unique intelligence. The metaphors used in spiritual texts eulogizing the heart are not just metaphors, but a reality. Heart organ is intelligent and it sometimes can lead the brain in our interpretation of the world around us.
I went back to Joseph’s mother and told her in detail about my changed personality, dreams, all my research and real life cases. I also told her about the strange attachment that I feel towards her.
“From faces (at the level of mind and logic) we may appear strangers to each other, but at the level of heart (Spiritual) we share a strong connection and that is the reason for your attachment towards me and mine towards you.” She said.

“Can you explain?” I asked her.

“My boy was different. He was adamant for organ donation. He said to me once, ‘Life is weird. It can slip away any moment. You never know somewhere someone, a stranger may be, is in desperate need, and it may be a matter of life and death for that human. Just imagine, if at that very moment your help comes. Isn’t it remarkable that you may be able to save a life or help someone even in your death? Don’t you see the power and beauty of being human in that?”’ She said to me. I nodded back in careful attention. 

“I got the details from medical authorities on you being the receiver of Joseph’s heart. That’s why I called you. Do you still seek to understand the reasoning behind all this?” She asked me.
I stood there speechless, not knowing what to say. I had already realized what it all means and Joseph’s mother further confirmed my understanding. Suddenly words came out of my mouth “HEART IS THE CREATOR OF MIRACLES WHICH MIND OFTEN FAILS TO CAPTURE THROUGH EXPLANATION AND LOGIC”

We both became conscious of the fact that we share a unique relation. We marveled at this remarkable divine display of life and death. We came forward and hugged each other. At that very moment a sudden surge of gratitude and humility filled me. A deeper realization dawned upon me at that very instant - life is weird and it can slip away any moment. I was engulfed by a sudden gush of affection and care for all those who were present in my life. That swelling of my compassion has since then stayed with me and finds expression in the various aspects of my professional and personal life. I wanted to thank Joseph, but I knew he is not there, and his absence pinched me terribly. Joseph’s death extended my life. Ever since I realized that, in utter humility, I declare that I have lived with a greater responsibility towards myself and others, and more importantly towards life itself. 

The regret of not being able to love my biological mother was gradually replaced by an opportunity to take care and shower affection upon the mother of my heart. I had a new family member now. Joseph’s mother came out of that embrace, kissed me on chest and said with moist eyes, “That heart was inside me for nine months, and now it is inside you. Take care of it.”

Story by - Rabjot The Author