Throughout his childhood, he was popular in school for cooking up stories. In fact, the excuse he had given for missing a particular Math class was later adapted by one of his friends as the plotline for a successful school play.
“Put your creativity to good use”, his Math teacher had told him, patting his back. And that is what he did years later, as he sat at his stall inside Hotel Green Star. “Back To The Future” his stall was called. His job was to sit there beside a caged parrot and attract gullible foreign tourists, who checked into the five-star hotel. And it was a jolly good job indeed for a twenty-year-old man.
“Her name is Lakshmi, sir – the goddess of wealth. But, she has another formidable power. And that is to peep into the future and give you a glimpse. She even predicted the big tsunami, sir. And all she does is pick cards with her little beak.”
Whether they believed his story or not, the tourists gazed open-mouthed as the green bird obeyed every single command of the astrologer. Young couples were his favourite targets. A husband, who conceded to the fancies of a newly married wife, meant the astrologer could make more money. And a young woman was the easiest to put into a trance with beautiful words. He always said good things, sweet things, and hopeful things. In the end, the tourists got some fun and memorable photographs of an “interesting Indian” and “his parrot” (facebook tags). The astrologer got his money, Hotel Green Star got its rent and Lakshmi got her nuts. Everyone was happy.
And so, life rolled on for the astrologer - at a pretty slow pace though. The all-powerful stars in the heavens were quite irritated by this. They hated to watch a monotonous life. In fact, it was not only the astrologer, but also several such humans all over Earth, who bored the stars with their routine life. So the all-powerful stars held a meeting one night and a clever little star came up with a bright idea. All stars twinkled with delight as they heard it.
The next day, the economic depression struck the world.
Hotel Green Star was closed. The astrologer had to sell Lakshmi. The little goddess of wealth fetched him enough to put up a little shop of his own and buy a magnifying glass. He was officially into hand-reading now.
He did get a lot of hands to gaze at – most of them had tapped away at keyboards earlier. But, the astrologer realized that people were no longer happy to hear hopeful mumbo-jumbo. They had grown sceptical. There was anger and even the slightest mistake could incite a mob to pull down his shop. He knew what had happened to Mr. Gnani, a very famous astrologer in the city. He had said that Pluto was unhappy after being denied the status of a planet. And that is what caused the economic depression. Some people merely laughed on hearing this but there were some who took offence and packed up Mr. Gnani to some hospital ward. So, the astrologer was careful with his words.
The all-powerful stars were having fun of course. The bright little star was busy, suggesting further ideas to complicate the existing plots of human lives. And while considering the astrologer’s fate, the star decided to spice up his life a little.
And that is how the astrologer met her. The astrologer shall never forget that day – the day he held her hand and gazed into her eyes. Yes. He knew it. She was the one. He thanked the stars and played his cards well. Soon, he was sitting in a park hand-in-hand with her and their four eyes gazed into the future – together.
“A huge white house in a green countryside with chirping birds. No neighbours to trouble us. No noisy in-laws. No fat aunts and uncles to drop surprise visits. Just the two of us and our happy life”, dreamed the astrologer.
But, the stars would not make it easy for the astrologer, would they. Another pair of eyes stomped into the beautiful vision the two lovers were enjoying. It was an angry pair of eyes – the eyes of the girl’s brother. After some “Biff!” and “Bang!” at the park, the girl sat crying in a locked room in her house while the astrologer got a bed beside Mr. Gnani.
“And what did you say?” asked Mr. Gnani, through the plasters covering his face.
The astrologer merely moaned, unable to lie on his back in the hospital bed.
“This is a disloyal world, my friend”, spoke Mr. Gnani, “You feed their ears with what they want and your praises their tongues shall tweet. You try to feed them something else and your ass gets kicked by their feet.”
The astrologer broke down crying. Mr. Gnani lifted up his head.
“What’s wrong? It didn’t rhyme?” he asked, concerned.
“I love her…” mumbled the astrologer, “… and I don’t know what to do…”
“Cheer up, my boy! I am an astrologer!” proclaimed Mr.Gnani, leaping out of his bed and spreading his arms, “I say and it shall happen!”
A nurse, who was passing by, pushed him back onto his bed. Falling back in a reclining position, Mr. Gnani moved his head closer to the astrologer and whispered into his ear.
“We just need to outwit the stars. That is it”, he said and chuckled to himself.
“I am an astrologer too”, replied the astrologer, amidst his sobs.
“So?” asked Mr. Gnani.
“So, I know your bloody tricks. Shut up and sleep and let me cry.”
“An egoistic fake pearl always thinks there is no real pearl. So any pearl it sees should be fake”, said Mr. Gnani with a smile.
“Okay! I admit I am fake”, spoke the astrologer, “But I’ve been in the business. So tell me honestly. You really think the stars control every man’s life? Every man’s future is written down on his palm?”
Mr. Gnani nodded calmly, “And like I said, we just need to outwit the stars”
The astrologer gazed at Mr. Gnani’s solemn face for a long time, then he held out his palm. “What should I do, Mr. Gnani?”
Something about Mr. Gnani’s voice made the astrologer trust him. He did not have time to wonder what it was. He did as Mr. Gnani asked him to. It was only when the rituals ate up his cash, did he realise that it was not the stars that Mr. Gnani was trying to outwit. The all-powerful stars had played their mischief once again – this time through this Gnani. The astrologer went into a fit of rage. He broke a piece of metal pipe from his toilet.
Knock! Knock! On Mr. Gnani’s door. The door opened and Mr. Gnani smiled. Whack! Dishoom!
Knock! Knock! On the girl’s brother’s door. The door opened and the villain of the love story frowned at him. Whack! Dishoom!
Knock! Knock! On another door. The door opened and his girl stared at him. On her finger, he saw a ring. From behind her shoulder, peeped another man. There was a cracking sound. It was the astrologer’s heart.
She fell down on her knees and began to cry and mumbled something about, “My brother… my family… cannot shatter their hearts…”
The astrologer heard nothing. His ears were filled with a horrific din as the white house of his dreams came crashing down. The birds chirped no more. He stood alone amidst the rubble – with no shelter beneath the vast sky. And that is when he heard it – a subdued chuckle.
“Did you hear that?” he asked her.
She looked at him puzzled.
She was acting, he knew. He could hear it distinctly. Slowly, the subdued chuckles grew louder and turned into howls of laughter. He looked up at the night sky and knew instantly. The stars! They were laughing merrily at his plight. God damn stars!
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