Tuesday, 26 December 2017

“Pity his ignorance”

December 1989, militancy in the valley had already taken off. Three Air Force Officers at Rawalpora were already done to death in the broad day light. My friend, the then S P Control Room, presumably for his brilliant academic career  taken as the most intelligent person in our circle, called on me in the early hours of the day with his horoscope in his hand. He wanted me to accompany him to the famous Fortune Teller in my neighbourhood at Zaindar Mohalla Srinagar.

Generally people go to the fortune teller with their horoscope at times of crises. I asked him for the reason. He said that he was transferred to Jammu and he requested the then DGP for his retention in the valley. The DGP assured him his transfer back to the valley after three month tenure at Jammu. He wanted confirmation to the assurance from the Fortune Teller. My plea that I don’t believe in the gimmicks did not work.

Thanks to the Fortune Teller, we had not to wait in the queue.  We were attended out of turn.
Being my neighbor, he knew me, a rustic street urchin school dropout for two years and then a successful head of an educational institution did not need to see much in the horoscope to get feel about my friend.  He said, “Chaki cunea ye kinhee mughar razea zatukh chues” (He is basically worthless but his horoscope is that of a king’s). My friend wanted confirmation to DGP’s assurance; he repeatedly asked him to say something more. The Fortune Teller said, “He has climbed a poplar tree. He is at the top of the tree. Someone gives a shake to the tree. He will not fall, but will get a shake.” Still no confirmation to the assurance given by the DGP, my friend said, “Kindly say something more.” “Basically he is nothing. He is like a willow twig (Dantuen) used to brush one’s teeth, thrown after its use aside the road grows into a willow tree” said the Fortune Teller.
My friend whispered to me,” See how accurate to the nearest decimal his reading is. My father was an ordinary Village Level Worker; none of my relations was a clerk not to speak of HC or Superintendent in any office. I am from a distant village, almost from a jungle. Despite my poor background, I am provided with a chauffeur driven Gipsy on government expenses. I am entitled to a salute from Police officers from ASI to Dy. S P. It is definitely the chewed twig growing into a tree.”
I said,”What rot do you talk? Who else was born a Chinar (Great)? People would aspire for the job of a clerk in AG’s office, or a Bank or a Medical Representative or Patwari etc. Now people worked hard to grow as engineers, doctors, lawyers, police officers, professors etc. It has nothing to do with horoscope and twig growing into a tree.

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