THE HOUSE OF THE SEVEN MOONS

A Mystic Novel Based on a Real History

by Oliver Marti

An explanation seems justifiable before the narrative. As it will be related later on, a Hindu guru named Swami, in a amazing email he sent me, described, summarily, certain facts that, according to him, happened to me and to my cousin Penelope, during two past lives.Taking his revelations as a starting point, I gave wings to my imagination and built a romance involving Pierre and Michelle and Isabela and Juan Pablo. However, all that is written in the Introduction and in Part V, concerning me and my cousin Penelope, is absolute true; nothing was added by my imagination.

The Author

Introduction

My name is Yuri Olivieri*. I was born in Rio de Janeiro, the former capital of Brazil, on October 21st 1934, exactly two hundred and ninety nine years and six months after Pierre Monsard and fifty-two years and seven months after Juan Pablo Colina. But why do I mention these two other names? Because it looks like that the three of us are an only and same soul, accomplishing, at different times in history, distinct missions on Earth, in consonance with a karmic determinism traced by a superior force, be it God, destiny, or whatever. I am neuroscientist and thus, due to my academic formation, I am also or, at least, I used to be, until some time ago, an atheist, a faithful follower of Carl Sagan, for whom, what can not be proven by scientific methods, is just pure mysticism. What has changed my mind? A series of strange events, beginning by a peculiar coincidence – if it can be called as such, that I shall now start to describe:

A certain Sunday morning, not so long ago, I was going back home, after my everyday walking exercise. As I was passing by the building where my research laboratory is located – by chance it is situated in the same street of my home, I felt impelled to go up there, to fetch a certain computer diskette. Let me point out that I did not leave my house with such a purpose, as it was not a habit of mine to go to the laboratory on Sundays. Actually, as far as I can recall, I have not done such a thing for the past twenty years! Furthermore, there was no reason why I should fetch the diskette at that particular time. Nevertheless, I went for it.

In less than thirty seconds I had already picked up the diskette and was heading for the exit when the telephone rang. To my surprise, it was my cousin Penelope Laso *, seventeen years my junior and with whom I didn't communicate for more than two years. Well then, on that morning, Penelope - as she told me later - felt a sudden and inexplicable desire to get in touch with me, but as I had recently changed the number of my home’s phone line, Penelope didn´t find me. However, searching her notebook, my cousin came across another number, associated to my name, which, so she thought, was also from my house. Therefore, she decided to try. Obviously, had Penelope known that it was my laboratory´s number, she would not have called on that day, since she knew I was not supposed to be there on a Sunday. But, as it happened, she did call and I was there!

Surprised and cheerful, we exchanged trivialities and decided to make an appointment. It is worth to mention that I always had an special affection for that cousin and that she always demonstrated an strong admiration for me. I remember that when Penelope was still a little baby, many times I carried her in my arms and, later on, when she was an adolescent, whenever I traveled abroad, I used to bring her some kind of gift. Therefore, through the years, we built a solid friendship and identified the existence of a series of affinities between us, although we did not meet as frequently as we both would have liked to. As time went by, we followed different paths in life and our roads rarely crossed. Actually, in the last two years we did not meet or talked to, one single time. Until that Sunday...

But, leaving aside these reminiscences, let me describe what followed after that unusual phone call. We started to meet frequently, although, at the beginning, at least at a conscious level, the feelings we displayed seemed to be those to be expected from cousins who are dear to each other. Nothing else. Penelope is a very lovely woman, whose eyes are exceptionally nice and she has always been considered the most beautiful woman in our family. We started to go out together on the third week of August, four years ago.

About the same time, during a chat with an old friend, he mentioned a Buddhist young lady who had been disciple of a Hindu guru named Swami. This fellow, living, temporarily in California, was supposed to be an "expert" in karmic astrology. My friend said that the Hindu interpreted astrological maps, through the Internet, but only when the charts interested him. "I remember you used to deal with that kind of stuff" - he said – " Just for fun" - I replied. But he insisted: "Anyway, why don't you send your map to Swami? Maybe he likes your chart. Go ahead. It will cost you nothing". I wrote down the astrologer's email and then, busy with the preparations for the trip I was soon to take to the United States, I forgot the subject. The day before the voyage, my friend called and insisted, again, that I send my birth chart to the Hindu. After we hang up, I said to myself: "What the hell, why not?". I accessed the Internet and sent an email to the address krisma_swami@yahoo.com * *, wrote down the necessary data e requested the astrologer to do an analysis of my birth chart. And, motivated by a sudden and inexplicable inspiration, I also sent Penelope’s data, without mentioning our family connection. Also, for reasons that I don't know how to explain, I didn't use my regular email address, but another one, that I eventually utilize and, in which, I identify myself not as Yuri, but as "Panzer". That way, it would be virtually impossible for the guru to know my real name.

Ten days later, having returned to Brazil, I opened the electronic mails and, to my surprise, I found Swami’s answer. But, as soon as I started to read his message, surprise turned into astonishment, because the Hindu, in a perfect English, British style, began the text calling me "Dear Yuri ", when, so reason dictated, he should have written : "Dear Panzer". After the initial shock, I tried to find out, through some friends, who are experts on the matter, if there was any possibility that, by using some resource in the Web, Swami could have discovered my true name. The answers were unanimous: there was not! And astonishment developed into confusion, when, in his message, he pointed out that Penelope and I "had been born in the same family ". And my rigid scientific formation, as well as my atheistic philosophy, where deeply disturbed, when the guru mentioned that my cousin and I, there is, our souls, had crossed several times in previous existences and that we had an unsolved karmic problem.

As far as I was concerned, at least up to that moment, karma and past lives were nothing more than foolish beliefs made up by the imagination of mystic adepts of some oriental religions and spiritualism.

But, let me continue: in a simple and direct style, the astrologer started to tell that the crossing of our charts and the intuition that was given to him by his "Superior Masters" had revealed that, under different names and in other countries, Penelope and I had lived two interconnected existences, before the present one. It is a fantastic story, not only because of its strange and, to some extent, weird, content, but also due to the deep changes it brought to our lives. So, it deserves to be revealed. Let us begin by describing what, according to Swami, happened to our souls in the distant France of the XVIIth century....

* - Yuri Olivieri, Penelope Laso and Krisma Swami are pseudonyms. * * - The electronic address is also fictitious.

Click HERE to continue