My client, an Indian expatriate, found the cause of her extreme
fear of cats. Her fear became worse over the years, that whenever she saw cats,
she would throw up. She regressed to Nothern India
Below
is her story:
Source: http://www.awesomelycute.com/2014/11/black-cats/
I see all Indians. They
are wearing traditional North Indian clothes, with colourful outfits. There are
men and women. The women wear sarees and cover their heads. I see men wearing a
traditional kurtas and some turban.
I saw a door and went
through it. I see lot of girls just like me. They are talking and laughing and
giggling. I got down from the hill. I come to a small town.
I’m walking alone, but I
can see lots of college going girls, standing and talking, giggling and
smiling. There are lots of shops around, like a city centre. There’s a clock
tower at the centre. It is 10 am .
I meet one of my old
friends, who wore white clothes. I asked her, “Where are you going?” She’s
telling me that she has purchases to make. I told her, “I'm going home.” She
says, “Carry on. I will meet you later.”
Next scene:
“I’m climbing the steps
to a very old house. It doesn't have proper steps. It’s like they took some
slabs and made steps there. I just went in front of the house. The door is blue
in colour.
I can see a window with
small grilles. I can see one old lady, who’s opening the door for me. She's
telling the house people that I’m back. She is my grandma. I recognise her as my
current life, former neighbour.
I see a verandah outside.
There are some chairs for visitors to sit. It is like a huge ‘tunnel’ kind of a
house. The entrance is very straight. I see the living room. It is not well
ventilated and very stuffy.
I see my mum. I recognise
her as my current life aunt there. She is saying, “You are here, want to eat
something?” She is working in the kitchen. I tell my mum I have to head to the
college.
The year is 1912. I’m now
in front of the college. I am wearing a very lose cloth and a very dirty orange
dress. I have oiled my hair so much. I have long plaited hair, and a partition
in between. I have dark complexion. I am carrying a cotton bag.
My name is Prakriti Ishwar.
I am a first year degree student.
Next scene:
There's a function in my
house…. Many people are there. Everybody is busy. It is somebody’s death
anniversary. People are performing death rites.
There is a black cat
there. It is near the place where the rituals are going on. I’m at the
verandah, but the cat is in the living room. There are four people sitting
there. A priest is guiding them to do the ritual.
There’s somebody chasing
the cat out, but it doesn’t want to go away. It is a very fat, big, black cat.
It moves around the room. Somebody lifted and threw the cat down. It fell from
the steps. I came running out of the house. It fell in somebody else’s compound. Someone took away the cat’s body. I looked at it. I felt miserable.
They should let it go out, why did they have to throw it? I feel so miserable.
We are doing a ritual and there’s a death.
People around me asked me
to forget it and just have my lunch. The plantain (banana) leaves are laid out
for lunch. Everybody is eating. I am sitting in front of the leaf but I’m
unable to eat. I’m not able to divert myself from thinking about the cat. It just came for
some food. It just needed some food.
People are scolding me.
They tell me I’m overreacting. My uncle is consoling me, saying that it was the destiny
of the cat to die. He told me, “Don’t worry, all will be fine”.
Place of healing
I see that there are so
many spiritual sages who are just telling me not to grieve for the cat. It was
destined to die. And it has got a better life. Don’t grieve for it. They tell
me that I was not responsible for what has happened to the cat. It has a better
life now and it is somewhere happy.
The cat has reappeared.
It’s thanking me for the concern, it is thanking me for being sympathetic to
its death. It’s smiling at me. It put its two front paws together, made a slight
bow, then went on its way.
