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The news is all good;
I will live at least 90 years, I will have multiple sources
of income, have many women and am blessed with magnetic sex
appeal. That is the hot news off Wallajah Road this morning.
Today is Gandhi Day and most of the shops are closed in honour
of the founding father. The sale of alcohol is banned for
the day. It had the other blessing too that it was possible
to walk the streets without the ever present likelihood of
being flattened by something on wheels. A small boy was out
on the streets with his mother, learning to ride his new bike.
He had better learn fast; its mayhem out there on a normal
day. My auto driver was outraged that I wished to walk.
“I take you,” he pleaded, terrified that this
walking craze could hurt business, “it is not for money,
I take you for free.”
No doubt the trip would have included the enforced visit to
more than one handicraft store along the way. I waved it off;
you just cannot see the beauty of the buildings in this town
while racing through its streets. A lovely 70 year old building
up the road saw the owner come running out to be photographed.
"My grandfather built it," he said proudly. I lacked
the courage to question why the grandson didn't maintain it.
The local Zambazar police station was open for business, although
judging from the lengthy notice board outside they do not
have much to do. A billboard out front defines the Zambazar
ward, including an entry: “No. of bad characters”.
They have precisely 24. One suspects some cooking of the crime
books here.
The flower sellers were out in force; every woman here is
less than complete without a garland of fresh flowers in her
hair. During the night large convoys of trucks must bring
them in from the countryside and by morning flower sellers
are on every corner selling them.
Over on Wallajah an old fortune teller sat on the street which
was not empty, but which by most Indian city standards suggested
some terrible epidemic may have swept the region, driving
people away. He wanted to read my palms and give me a horoscope.
A range of charges were offered, from the basic future telling
for 50 rupees up to 525 rupees for the full works. A small
crowd gathered from no where to hear my fate; literally!
He took my birth date and immediately discovered fortune teller
and I were Gemini.
“You cunning like a fox,” he said with a toothless
grin, “you get into very big trouble but get out of
it.”
The year past had been a bad one, but good things lie ahead.
One particular line in my left hand divided and this suggested
“you will have more than one source of income”,
he proclaimed. Not bad really. He flicked my right hand back
and counted the folds in my wrist.
“You will live to 90,” he announced.
Some of was hard to understand; my palms indicate "black
money". My colour is supposed to be green and I am alleged
to suffer from jealousy. And I have four children; he got
that wrong but was undeterred. Apparently more are on the
way. A tribute to medical science that would be.
I am not to eat fish or drink alcohol. Suspecting I would
pass on such prohibitions he reached into his bag and pulled
out a small vial which contained what he said were talismans.
They were odd little pieces of tubular metal and they are
to sit in my pocket for the rest of my life - another 40 years
or so.
A series of lines below my thumb gave my past away: “you
have had many women.”
Hardly.
He was most struck though with two “x” marks on
my palm, below my right index finger.
“This indicates your sexual magnetic attraction, your
power. Women flock to you.”
My laugh, and that of some of the audience who understood
what he said, was regarded as an affront to his professional
skills. He promptly waved his hand, palm outward and said
he did not have such x marks on his palms. And plainly, he
was implying, he had no sexual magnetism, while his client
did.
Tell any passing bald 53 year old that he is a sexual magnet
with immense power over women ... and well, of course you
can get paid. And a tip too! Clever fellow my fortune teller. |
