A few months back, I had gone to Mahabaleshwar with my family for a short vacation. The weather was god sent and the kids were really happy. Chaitra wanted to see a strawberry farm very badly and we readily complied to her request. She took a small note book and a pen to record her observations. After her tour, we cooled ourselves with a strawberry milk shake and headed towards our car.
A small bespectacled man in a white dhoti and kurta with a cream boat shaped cap slanting on his pate, of about mid forties greeted me and Mansi in a respectable manner. I initially ignored him as I always do. I am a man of privacy and never smile, leave aside converse with strangers. I have a paranoia of communicating with unknown people. But as we were sitting in the car, he casually mentioned that our marriage was inter caste. I was shocked to hear that from a totally unknown stranger. No doubt, Mansi looks Gujju, but people think of me as a Gujju too. We got down from the car and asked him the reason for this statement. He told us about his profession, he was a face reader and people like him were dime a dozen in this small tourist town.
A small 50 rupee note would help him tide the day, seeing his obvious need for money, we gave him the money and listened to his jargon for about 15 minutes.
The face reader or any astrologer, palmist for the matter have a knack of enticing you, They will warble some things about the past and build hopes for a rosy future. The present phase being a struggle filled one also convinces us gullible folks about their authenticity. They will give you a small talisman and recite some mantras for your well being. We did not have the courage to break his heart. We took blessings from him and headed to our hotel.
Destiny cannot be changed and is an immutable law of the universe. Insecurities get a breather when we resort to astrology, In medicine,we call it the 'placebo' effect.
Atleast, someone was wishing well for us for a paltry sum of 5o rupees.
I am a keen observer of people and patients in general, Their body habitus and mannerisms never fail to evade my hawk like eyes. The face reader had puffy eyes with a strawberry tinge on his cheeks and swelling of his feet, the chappals were a size tight for him. His arms were slender compared to his bloated abdomen. He had few prominent capillaries in his neck. He looked ghostly pale and had a fine tremor in his clubbed hands. His eyes were desperate to earn money that day.
On the way back,I told Mansi that the face reader would not survive beyond 3 months. I wish I had the guts to tell the face reader the same but sanity prevailed and I kept my mouth shut. Some bad unpleasant things in life are better kept to oneself.
Atleast, I had told him to take care while leaving and probably he understood what I meant by the fearful look in his eyes.
Last month when we went to the strawberry farm, we encountered a different face reader, Mansi asked him about the bespectacled face reader with the cream cap.
He told us sadly that he just passed away last week after a protracted period of hospitalisation.
He had fallen prey to alcohol liver disease.
I had picked up all the signs while listening to him, a few months back.
We returned sadly from the strawberry farm.
I did not have a strawberry milk shake that day.
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