Three Lives Remembered by Rananda Kumara
I was fortunate to have the guidance of Master Kuthumi for several years, who showed me many of our other lives. Amongst those lives there are three that, at first do not appear to be connected, but on a closer look, one can see how the second and third are a reaction to the first of the three. The common factor is slavery and liberation from it. Slavery is a denial of the Divine Law of Free Will. Any such denial of the right to self determination will have serious karmic consequences for the perpetrator.
As a Roman Slave
In the first of the three lives, I lived in the Balkans, as a young woman who was taken as a slave by the Roman conquerors of our country. I was sold in Rome, to a wealthy Roman and became a slave in his household. I was a very beautiful young woman with long blonde hair, which proved to be a disadvantage for me, as the master would frequently take me to his bed. His wife became jealous of me and would cut my face with a knife to destroy my beauty. She also made my life a misery in many other ways, and I was frequently punished.
Eventually the mistress prevailed upon the master to sell me, and I was sold to a man who ran a slave agency. He had many slaves, and would muster us all in the morning in his courtyard. He had a clipboard, and would choose two of our names from the list and say;- “You and you; go to the house of — (Name) — The sons of wealthy Roman families would be set up by their parents in a house of their own. However they were not themselves wealthy enough to buy their own slaves, so they would rent them from the slave agency when they were hosting a party, and we slaves would take cloaks and hats from the guests, and pretend to be the household slaves of the teenager concerned. We would serve their guests and come when hands were clapped. Although this was not ideal, it was still better than my previous employ. However, after a while I began to yearn for my freedom from this life of servitude. At one of the parties I stole some clothes and absconded into the countryside outside of the city, where there was a community of escaped slaves. I lived in this community for a while, savoring my freedom, but one night there was a dawn raid on our small community and we were all recaptured by a Roman corporal whom we were told to call;- “Decadian”. He despised us and treated us with the utmost contempt. We were not allowed to speak unless spoken to by him. We were taken into custody and were sent to do penal servitude at a stone quarry where our life expectancy was counted in weeks. We died from mistreatment, malnourishment and overwork. It was here that I ended my days in that life.
The Flying Cloud, an American Clipper Ship
As a Master Mariner
In the second of these lives, I was born in the coastal town of Hyannisport on Cape Cod in North America in 1801. I served an apprenticeship in my grandfather’s shipyard, but was unhappy with my life as a junior in the drawing office of the marine architect. I had a desk like Bob Cratchet in the Dickens story “A Christmas Carol”, at the furthest point from the natural light coming in the single window, where the chief architect had his desk. I craved a life of freedom and adventure, and prevailed upon my grandfather to buy me an apprenticeship to a master mariner. I joined his ship in 1820, when I was 19 years of age, and on my first voyage, sailed from Boston across the North Atlantic and the North Sea to Gothenberg in Sweden. I made several subsequent voyages on this route whilst learning my trade, and by the time I was 35, I was the master of my own ship. Our return voyage took us with a load of timber from Gothenberg to Southampton in the South of England, and then to Portugal where we picked up a cargo of wine for the wealthy households of the Southern United States. We would catch the Trade Winds across the Atlantic to New Orleans on the Mississippi, where I was a witness to the plight of the slaves. Something in their lives resonated strongly with me, and I would go to the slave village and make arrangements for some of them to stow away in packing cases in my ship. When at sea, I would release them and take them with me to freedom in Boston. There was one sad case where a mother and her daughter asphyxiated before we could release them from the packing case in which they were hidden. I was a part of that secret escape route for slaves later called;- “The Underground Railway”. Eventually, in that life, I was lost at sea when my ship sprung a plank in her bottom and sank beneath me.
The American Civil War
The third and last life in the group of three was the next life after the one where I was the master mariner. In this life I was born to a fairly wealthy family who had a farm just outside of Oakland, West Virginia. I used to attend the local horse races as I was a lover of horses. On one occasion, I saw a most beautiful girl who was of a wealthy family and whose father had horses in the races. She was surrounded by a band of admirers so that I had no chance to talk with her. She was enthusiastically cheering-on her father’s horses. The next time I saw her was at a ball where all the young men looked like Rhett Butler in the movie;- Gone With The Wind” — (This was just pre-Civil War.) At the end of the ball a race was held, where all the young men had to get down on all fours like horses, and race from one end of the ballroom to the other. The winner was allowed to escort home the lady of his choice. To my great surprise, I was declared the winner and of course I chose that lady from the horse races. I got to know her and she agreed that I could call on her. I would dress up in my white suit with Ebony cane to call on her and she would serve me lemonade as we sat in the garden swing. I asked her to marry me and she and her father agreed. We were married soon after but then Civil War broke out. I had seen the way that slaves were treated in the houses of the wealthy, and I didn’t hold with slavery. I had a deeply held belief that it was wrong to deprive people of their freedom and the right to guide their own lives. I had no idea where this deep belief originated, as I came of a Southern family. So, I took my wife and traveled by road and by ship to the North where I was commissioned in the Union Army as Lieutenant George Huntley. I fought in one battle and survived but in the second one, a shell exploded just behind my horse and I was killed. I remember arriving in Heaven (4D) where there was mist up to my knees. My beloved horse, Hector, was lying on the ground screaming in his death throes, and two Angels were stroking him and soothing him. As they did so Hector calmed down and began to grow younger until he became a Piebald foal. (He had been a Chestnut stallion) Then he staggered unsteadily to his feet and trotted off across a kind of no-mans-land and I knew that he was going to be reborn. I had been so concerned about Hector that I had not noticed that I was dead. Shortly after this, a close friend arrived in Heaven. He was fuming with anger at being killed, and he stomped off across the no-mans-land, saying;- “I’m going back!” — He didn’t seem to realize that he would be a baby and the war would be over.
There was an interesting addendum to this story. What seemed like some time later, a middle aged woman in a mob-cap type bonnet came to Heaven to collect me. She was a spirit medium. She conducted me to the place where my house was, and I saw, a couple standing on the porch. They were very close together and I could tell that they were lovers. One of them was my beautiful young widow. The woman took me around to the back garden where I sat around a table with her and my widow to have a talk. It emerged that she wished to remarry (She was only around 25 years of age) and wanted me to give my blessing to their union. I freely did so as I felt that, for me, that life was like a play that was over and the final curtain had fallen.
Love, from Rananda
Rananda Kumara via (walk-in) Cmdr Zanna on 17th November 2015