Memoirs Of a Shamanic Legacy

When will his health improve?”

The acharya’s look was something I’ll never forget. It was as piercing and final as the gaze of a butcher preparing for the Halal.

“You, who are so precise, can’t even tell me his birth star. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” he asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and exasperation.

I knew what was coming, yet I took a deep breath and replied, “My mind does not answer me any longer.”

“A soul that is gone is calling him,” the acharya said, his voice softening. “He cannot let you go. It’s not about your mother or brother; it’s you. He is here only for you. Let him go.”

My mother’s eyes were filled with questions. “What did the joisha say?”

What could I tell her? That I was the cause of his suffering? Or that I was here to help him move on? Slowly, I entered the room where Papa lay. Despite his silence, he had always communicated with a depth that words couldn’t capture.

He smiled as I approached.

“Papa, I can’t let you go,” I said, my voice trembling.

“So, you did visit Kadaba?” he asked, his tone calm.

“Yes,” I confirmed.

“You know now, I worry about how you will handle things.”

“Handle what?” I asked, confusion evident in my voice.

“The joishru helallilava… from your expression, he didn’t have the courage to tell you the truth.”

“What truth?”

“You are my successor. Your journey begins now. It cannot begin until I leave, and I cannot leave until you let me go.”

His words were strange, but even in his pain, his clarity was undeniable.

“Maga, the first two years after I go will be very strange. Things and people will appear in your space, and others will disappear. Get the red VIP suitcase.”

I retrieved the suitcase from the closet. When I opened it, I found an old parchment and a faded book written in an ancient Kannada script, without the punctuations we use today.

“Pick up the one wrapped in red cotton and read it aloud,” Papa instructed.

The following week became a journey of discovery I hadn’t anticipated. I knew Papa’s study time was between 3:30 a.m. and 5:30 a.m., so I spent those hours reading the parchment and book under his guidance.

It was a passage into our history and origins—why I could see death in people’s eyes, and why I experienced physical pain when nature was harmed. By the end of the week, Papa told me to unwrap the deer skin parchment. Inside were the most beautiful crystals I had ever seen.

“Lemurian crystals,” he said, his voice filled with pride.

I had never been interested in crystals before, but their sudden appearance was mesmerizing.

“For the next twenty-one days, meditate with these crystals in your palm. Place the moonstone that I got for your Ajmer at the head of your bedstead, and your journey will begin.”

The first day of meditation brought nightmares and an unbearable headache. Then came the revelation of the soul’s journey.

I experienced the collective souls taking forms and becoming formless, the presence of collective consciousness in rose quartz form, and the great vibration shifts. I saw the emergence of plants and trees, the illusion of death, and the calm terrain of early existence.

The journey continued through the animal kingdom, with its hierarchy and survival instincts, leading to the cycle of karma and the evolution into humanity.

The book spoke of the soul’s journey through the four yugas, the fifth dimension of the mind, and the sixth dimension of the ascended master.

After twenty-one days of meditation, Papa passed away, leaving me with a legacy of Lemurian knowledge and the responsibility to guide souls to the next dimension. My consciousness continued to evolve with each soul’s journey.

The crystals, the book—they returned to the suitcase, awaiting the next keeper. I began my role as the torchbearer, recording my journey and knowing that the next shaman was already being groomed. When the time came, I would pass on the heritage and move on. Until then, each day, the crystals shared secrets and guidance, energizing my path.

Now I understood why my family was associated with snakes. I was a descendant of the record keepers of Lemuria—the snake people, who preserved the memories and passed on the knowledge through the crystals. Each keeper was a channel, delivering the wisdom needed by mankind before moving on for the next keeper to continue the legacy.

For those interested in learning about crystal meditation and exploring its benefits, click here to start your journey.

This post is written for the #blogchatterhalfmarathon by blogchatter.