Case Study Based on Bhrigu Nadi method

Section 1 – Setting the Scene

I read horoscopes, and every now and then, a client’s story lingers with me. Not because the planets “decided” their life, but because you can clearly see how one hidden pattern, left unchecked, spills into health, work, family, and finances.

Cases like this remind me why I never treat astrology as destiny. But here’s the truth: a lack of knowledge often creates destiny. When you read this story, you’ll notice that even a psychologist or therapist could have uncovered the root cause if they had looked deep enough.

To be fair, most professionals are limited by their discipline and their schedules. They have productivity ratios, session lengths, and clinical frameworks. Astrology, by contrast, is not bound by those rules. That is both its strength and its weakness. The good news? There are no fixed limits on how far we can explore. The bad news? Many readings out there are fake, shallow, or incomplete.

For me, a horoscope is like an X-ray. An X-ray doesn’t diagnose the whole illness; it only shows shadows, places where something might not be normal. The doctor still has to listen to the patient, check test results, and put all the pieces together. Astrology works the same way. The chart is never the full story, but it gives strong clues. The rest depends on the person’s choices, the environment they live in, and the circumstances life throws their way.

One of my favorite clients, Anya (not her real name), came to see me about her own horoscope. Later, she brought her friend Malissa. They both worked in health care, and they came together for the session. On the surface, Malissa seemed ordinary, calm, polite, and careful not to reveal more than she had to. In fact, she was very good at keeping details to herself. That made the reading more authentic, because I had no storyline to follow except what her chart itself revealed.

A natal chart only shows tendencies, the karma, the emotional wiring an individual is born with. But no one lives in isolation. Parents, siblings, partners, and the environment all shape how that karma unfolds. Most astrologers don’t go that far because it takes time—digging through multiple charts, weighing family dynamics, and piecing together cause and effect.

There was one complication: Malissa didn’t know her exact birth time. Normally, that anchors the chart. I explained that I would have to use a broader method. It’s less precise, but still enough to show meaningful tendencies. She agreed. And so, what began as a simple request to peek into her horoscope turned into a much larger case—one that revealed how a single trait, anger, became the hidden shadow shaping her health, her family, her work, and even her finances.

Section 2 – What Her Chart Whispered

The first thing that struck me was her Venus and Mars together in Capricorn. Venus is retrograde, Mars is strong here, and both sit in the same degree range. In plain language, this is a tug-of-war between wanting affection and feeling blocked by frustration. Mars wants action and control; Venus wants love and comfort. When these two wrestle, the result is often cycles of attraction, anger, and disappointment.

Then I saw Rahu placed in Taurus, casting its 5th aspect straight onto that Venus -Mars pair. Rahu magnifies whatever it touches. It makes love affairs intense, finances unpredictable, and emotions prone to sudden swings. In her life, this could show up as sudden shifts in relationships that start hot but cool fast, money that comes in but slips away, or health patterns that flare up unexpectedly.

Her Moon sits in early Leo, which normally gives pride, dignity, and a need for recognition. But opposite it, Saturn in Aquarius throws its shadow. That means emotions don’t flow freely; they get bottled up, released only when the pressure is too much. Imagine a child born into a crowded family, where she has to shout or act out to be noticed. Whether or not the parents meant harm, her soul carried the feeling: “I’m not being seen enough.” This was less about what actually happened and more about the karmic script she brought with her into this life.

The Sun in Sagittarius, with Mercury retrograde, added another layer. Here is blunt speech, a searching mind, and at times a tendency to cut too deep with words. It makes a person quick to spot others’ mistakes, but slow to soften their own judgments. Combine that with the Saturn–Moon pressure, and you get someone who carries pride and anger side by side.

All of this told me one thing: anger was the hidden current. Not always explosive, sometimes quiet and internal, but always present. It colored her health, her relationships, her work, and her finances. The chart wasn’t accusing her of doing wrong — it was showing the environment she was born into and the inner wiring she carried forward from past lives. That wiring meant she needed more attention than she received, and when it didn’t come, anger filled the gap.

Section 3 – The Horoscope’s Shadow

When I turned from the natal chart to the transits, the picture sharpened. A birth chart only shows potential; whether those patterns rise depends on timing, environment, and choices. To test what was active, I asked Malissa directly about her life.

She admitted to health problems but denied any struggles with work or relationships. The health troubles matched the chart, but the flat denial of other issues revealed Rahu’s hand. Rahu is the planet of illusion. It clouds judgment so completely that denial can feel like truth.

This fog was distorting her exalted Mars. Mars in Capricorn is a powerhouse for discipline and leadership, but in her case, the energy was misdirected. Instead of steady effort, it was surfacing as anger and frustration, a fire spilling out of the hearth.

I chose not to confront her denial head-on. Instead, I explained that anger itself is not evil. If channeled, it can fuel service, discipline, and even leadership. I suggested outlets where her Mars could work constructively: community projects, advocacy, or creative expression. She had mentioned her son struggled with ADHD, so I even proposed she consider sharing her journey through a podcast to support other parents.

But she declined. For her, the problem was only health. To me, health was just the visible symptom of a deeper imbalance. Still, I gave her practical guidance: give full effort at work, maintain good ties with landlords and neighbors, and seek anger management. These weren’t punishments from fate but consequences of how her own energy was being used.

Exalted Mars could have become her greatest strength, a force of respect and stability. Left untrained, it risked turning her life into a chain of conflicts.

And here I made my own mistake. Because I saw her health declining and knew more troubles lay ahead, I didn’t charge her for the session. It was compassion, but in hindsight, it was also a critical error. By not asking for energy in return, I placed myself inside her karmic cycle.

Section 3 – The Real-Life Pattern Appears

In the weeks that followed, Malissa kept returning, not as a client, but as someone who would casually stop by. This was unusual for the country I live in; people don’t normally “drop in” without a clear reason. Looking back, that should have been my warning. By not charging her at the first visit, I had left the door wide open.

At first, it no longer seemed about astrology at all. She shifted the topic to her son, his ADHD, and her dream of starting a podcast to help other parents. On the surface, this sounded constructive. I wanted to encourage it, because in my mind that was the ideal outcome: a client turning challenges into something useful. Money wasn’t on my mind, especially since she had made it clear that she didn’t really believe in astrology. Her religion frowned upon it, and she said she was a very religious person.

But in those casual conversations, she began to reveal more than she ever had in the reading. Details about her son, about her own sacrifices, about the tensions in her family life. Piece by piece, I realized I was being drawn into her world, not as an astrologer giving structured guidance, but as a listener absorbing the overflow of her struggles.

Section 4 – Family and Illness

The more she lingered, the more her story shifted from her son’s ADHD to her own past. Family came up often, and with it a flood of anger.

She spoke of her mother as strict and cold, a woman of rules but no warmth. According to her, empathy was never shown, only judgment. She mentioned a handicapped sister who demanded constant care, and several other siblings who grew up alongside her. Yet when she described them, there were cracks. Her brothers and sisters, she admitted in passing, still had good relationships with their mother. She was the only one estranged.

At times, she boasted of her high-class family background, insisting her parents were wealthy and respected. At other times, her details betrayed a very different picture. The inconsistencies stood out, but she always circled back to the same refrain: her mother’s lack of love had left her scarred.

Her marriage story carried the same tone. Her ex-husband, she said, was cold and “evil.” He had accused her of having an affair, and in her version, that accusation destroyed her bond with her children. She often spoke as if her children owed her everything. In her version, she had sacrificed her health and her happiness so they could succeed. Yet the moment her ex-husband accused her of an affair, they pulled away. To her, it felt like betrayal: after all she had given, the very people who had benefited most from her efforts turned against her. She often repeated that her daughter had become a doctor and her son a government executive, as though their success was proof of her devotion, even if they had rejected her.

Meanwhile, she described her ex-husband as thriving with his new wife, a nurse. Together they were well off, and the children, she admitted bitterly, seemed comfortable with their father and stepmother.

Section 5 – Housing Battles

The next part of her story unfolded through housing. I didn’t hear it from her at first, but from another person — the same neighbor who had once helped her find the place. Piece by piece, the missing details came into focus.

She had already been evicted once before, after conflicts with neighbors. Out of sympathy for her illness, the landlord had let her stay. Instead of seeing that as mercy, she seemed to take it as a right. When the same issues returned, he finally issued a second eviction notice, giving her two months to leave.

But she could not leave quietly. This time, she pulled the very neighbor who had helped her into the conflict. What should have been a simple housing matter was recast as something bigger — a story about racism and bias. Malissa, being Caucasian, painted herself as the target of immigrant prejudice, while her neighbor Anya, of Indian background, was cast as the aggressor.

To make her case stronger, Malissa even went to the police. She showed them scratches on her arm and claimed that Anya had assaulted her. Here her illness became part of the script: she told the officers she was too unwell to defend herself, that her fragile health left her vulnerable to attack. Later, it became clear the scratches were self-inflicted, staged to support her story, and at the time she claimed the assault took place, Anya was not even nearby. It was not the first time she had made wild accusations. She had accused others of inappropriate advances, complained about cleanliness, and stirred up tension whenever possible. None of it held up under scrutiny. Neighbors began warning her that if she caused another scene, they would start recording.

Ironically, her actions only worked against her. In this province, tenant protections are strong and landlords often struggle to enforce evictions. But the false complaint, her confrontational behavior, and the witness statements together provided exactly the paper trail the landlord needed. What should have taken two months was reduced to just fourteen days.

Her anger had come full circle again. Each time, she cast herself as the victim of family, of marriage, of neighbors, of the system. But once more, it was her own actions that gave others the tools to push her out.

Section 6 – Work and Finances

Her struggles at work followed the same script I had already seen in family and housing. She often spoke bitterly about management, blaming them for unfair treatment. According to her, foreigners were climbing ahead by flattering supervisors, while she, with years of experience, was being pushed aside. Even the coworker who had once supported her, the same one who had helped her find housing and introduced her to me, was eventually branded a traitor. When that woman refused to take sides against management, she became the next enemy.

Her actual work story was more complicated. She had convinced her doctor to issue a “light duty” note so she could avoid heavy tasks. Management did not dismiss her outright. They offered her a night shift, when patients were asleep and the workload was lighter. It was a reasonable compromise, but she refused. She wanted her regular evening shift, even though light duty was impossible there.

Management finally told her she could return once she was ready for full duties. Instead of taking this as a warning, she returned with another doctor’s note saying she could work if she wore a protective belt. By then, the night position had been filled. With no other option, her hours were cut down from forty a week to twelve.

To her, this was proof of injustice. To me, it was another example of entitlement. She had treated medical notes not as tools for recovery, but as leverage to keep her position without compromise. When that strategy failed, she blamed management, just as she had blamed her mother, her husband, her children, and her neighbors.

Everywhere, the same pattern returned. She expected exceptions, resisted compromise, and treated consequences as persecution. In her telling, she was the victim of management, of rules, of an unfair system. But the truth was harder: her own choices had carved the path she was walking.

Her finances told the same story. She admitted she hadn’t filed taxes for more than five years. When I asked why, she brushed it off with a single excuse: her sickness. But the explanation didn’t add up. Illness might make paperwork harder, yes, but it doesn’t erase the responsibility entirely. The truth was simpler — she avoided it, just as she avoided heavy tasks at work and conflicts at home.

What stood out to me wasn’t just the unpaid taxes, but the familiar pattern behind it. She leaned on her illness as a shield, turning it into a justification rather than a reality to manage. Each time responsibility approached, she shifted the blame outward — to her health, to the system, to anyone but herself.

Section 7 – Anger in Chart and Body

Astrologically, Malissa’s natal chart shows not only her temperament but also how she perceives the world. With the Moon under Saturn’s shadow and Venus–Mars inflamed by Rahu, it is no surprise she interpreted life as a competition for recognition. Since I have no firsthand knowledge of her childhood, I can only speak through the chart. What it suggests is that she must have demanded more attention than she received.

In a large family setting, that demand may not have been met. Her anger toward her mother reflected a deeper wound, the feeling of not being seen. Her siblings, in her eyes, became rivals. The chart points to a coping strategy: when sick, she sought attention. Illness became a currency. The more fragile she appeared, the more people turned toward her.

Biomedicine helps us understand how this emotional script carves its way into the body. Anger is not just an emotion; it is a physiological signal that flips the body into fight-or-flight mode. The hypothalamus activates the sympathetic nervous system, releasing adrenaline (epinephrine) and noradrenaline (norepinephrine). At the same time, the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis pumps out cortisol, the body’s primary stress hormone.

This cascade does three things:

1. Raises blood pressure and heart rate.

2. Suppresses digestion and immunity.

3. Creates a long-term environment of chronic inflammation.

In the short term, this prepares the body for battle. But when anger becomes the background music of a lifetime, the constant hormone surge damages tissues. Chronic cortisol and adrenaline exposure can suppress immune surveillance, the body’s ability to detect and destroy abnormal cells. Over time, those abnormal cells grow unchecked. First, they form tumors; later, surgery becomes necessary.

In Malissa’s case, the story ended in a colostomy bag; the physical scar of years of anger-driven stress

Section 8 – Psychology: Why Sickness Became Her Shelter

Astrology showed the shadow, and medicine showed how anger burned its mark into the body. Psychology helps us step inside Malissa’s mind. Different schools of thought offer different explanations, but they all point to the same conclusion: sickness gave her something she could not find elsewhere — attention, care, and a sense of safety.

From her own story, she never felt her mother’s warmth. A child who grows up this way often learns to cling harder, always fearing rejection. In psychology, this is called insecure attachment (Attachment Theory). Even as an adult, that hunger for recognition stayed with her, and when it was not met, anger filled the gap.

Over time, she carried the image of her “cold mother” inside her. Psychologists say we all internalize the people who raised us (Object Relations Theory). To her, authority figures, a landlord, a boss, even a neighbor, became new versions of the same strict parent. But there was one exception: when she was sick, people leaned in. Doctors, coworkers, and even strangers showed sympathy. Illness became the doorway to the “good parent” she had longed for.

Anger itself may have been an echo of those early frustrations. Freud believed repressed hostility finds new disguises (Psychodynamic Theory). Adler added that people who feel inferior sometimes claim power by pointing to their suffering (Adler’s Psychodynamic Theory). Malissa often used her sickness and struggles as proof that life was unfair, turning pain into a kind of authority.

With time, she also stopped believing she could change things. When jobs slipped away or housing fell apart, she accepted it as if nothing she did would matter. Psychologists call this learned helplessness (Seligman). It is like a bird that no longer flies, even when the cage door is open.

Her thinking style showed the same traps. She often saw herself as the personal target of management, neighbors, or relatives. Either people were with her or against her. Psychologists call these cognitive distortions (Cognitive-Behavioral Theory). Once caught in this filter, every neutral event looked like persecution.

There is also the power of reinforcement. As a child, if she noticed that sickness brought extra care, that lesson could stick for life. This is what Bandura called social learning. Behaviors that are rewarded get repeated. For Malissa, illness worked; it won sympathy when nothing else did.

Health psychology links all of this back to the body. Chronic anger and stress trigger hormones that weaken the immune system (Psychosomatic Theory). Tumors and surgery were not accidents; they were the body’s echo of her lifelong emotional battles.

Finally, her personality traits tied it all together. She split people into “all good” or “all bad,” turned allies into enemies, and made dramatic accusations. These echo features are described in borderline and histrionic personalities (Personality Disorder Framework). It doesn’t mean she was deliberately manipulative. It means her sense of self was fragile, and illness gave her a role she could hold onto.

Taken together, these perspectives show something important: Malissa may not have chosen sickness consciously. She may not even have realized it. But illness became her shelter. It brought attention when love felt scarce, protection when relationships failed, and identity when other roles dissolved. In her world, sickness wasn’t just pain; it was survival.

Section 9 – The Shelter of Sickness and the Rejection of Help

Malissa’s family story gave the first clue. One of her sisters had special needs, and in that home, most of the energy circled there. The sick child, the fragile child, the one who needed constant watch, she naturally became the center of gravity. For the others, it was background noise, part of daily life. But for Malissa, standing at the edges, it carved a deep impression: attention is given to those who suffer. Care is reserved for the weak.

Children learn fast in ways parents never notice. Malissa may have tried the same trick, feigning illness, exaggerating symptoms, even playing weak to see if her mother would respond. But mothers who are stretched thin often don’t have the time to notice. Perhaps her mother brushed it off, or simply lacked the capacity to match the intensity Malissa craved. To Malissa, that felt like indifference. Not because her mother was truly cold, but because her attempts at winning attention through fragility went unnoticed. And once a child names a parent “cold,” the judgment never leaves.

This was the first step in what became a lifelong script. Illness equaled love. Frailty guaranteed attention. Anger rose when those needs weren’t met. She didn’t choose this script; She absorbed it. And once written into her bones, it became the only language she knew.

By adulthood, the pattern was sealed. Each time she grew sick, people leaned in. Neighbors softened. Landlords delayed the eviction. Doctors wrote notes. Even casual acquaintances gave her their sympathy. It worked. Illness made her visible. But the price of this strategy was high: anyone who tried to take it away, anyone who pushed her toward strength, instantly became the enemy.

Helpers never understood this. They believed she wanted to improve, that she was looking for a way forward. So they offered advice, structure, and opportunities. They urged her to return to work, to pay taxes, to resolve conflicts with neighbors, and to practice discipline. To them, this was compassion. To her, it was betrayal, Coldness. They were not lifting her; they were tearing down the only shelter she had ever known.

And so, one by one, helpers became villains. The neighbor who once brought her into housing was later accused of betrayal. The coworker who supported her at work became her rival. Even those who stopped to listen were recast as cold when they eventually refused to play along. Malissa’s haven — sickness, victimhood, fragility — was non-negotiable. Anyone who disturbed it lost their place in her circle.

This is where faith entered the picture, and the contradiction became sharpest. She spoke of religion often, recited prayers, and claimed deep devotion. Yet Christianity teaches love thy neighbor as thyself. How can one pray for mercy while planting hatred? How can one claim to love God while despising those who challenge comfort? The contradiction gnawed at her as surely as illness did.

Buddhism teaches the same lesson through metta — loving-kindness. Not doctrine, not ritual, but daily practice. It means meeting anger with compassion and fear with gentleness. Malissa never found that path. She held on to the outer shell of faith while missing its core.

Astrology revealed the energy that powered it all: an exalted Mars, raw force without discipline. Psychology explained how she internalized the lesson that sickness equals love. Medicine traced how anger scarred the body, leading eventually to surgery and a colostomy bag. And faith revealed the absence at the center: love without kindness is only words.

Her story is not only about her. It is a mirror. It shows how easily the shadow of childhood becomes the prison of adulthood. It shows how helpers can be mistaken for enemies when they challenge the only strategy someone trusts. And it shows how, without love — real love, love that neither indulges nor condemns — even faith becomes hollow.

Malissa’s chart had the energy of greatness, but she never found the discipline to turn storms into light. She chose the comfort of pain because it was familiar, and every hand that tried to pull her out only felt like another strike of coldness.

In the end, the lesson is simple but hard: astrology shows the currents, psychology shows the traps, medicine shows the scars, and faith shows the way out. But unless we step into love — love thy neighbor, or metta—we will never leave the shelter of our sickness.