by Shyamal Mukhopadhay

As usual, today also before going out in the late morning, Raicharan bowed his head before Tulsi grove located in an open space near the exit door. He usually walked a few kilometers holding an umbrella, aged and torn at places akin to his threadbare shirt that had stitched patches at many places. Upon reaching his destined place under the shade of an old banyan tree near the entry of the local Court, that Raicharan had been occupying. He would spread his mat at a designated spot under the tree; meticulously he would organize his necessaries as Palmist/ astrologer – a couple of almanacs current and old, a slate board, chalk to write, and a few small cowries. With these few items, Raicharan was a master of predicting human fate with his calculations- how planet Saturn appears prohibitive, how long Mars may continue when the curse of Rahu may recede, and so on. He would patiently advise any unfortunate litigant who approached Raicharan for finding future, immediate adversities, or mishaps.

As a soothsayer, he carried in a cage a trained parrot with extraordinary power. Whether a suit will be decreed favorably or not, a litigant needed to offer fee a of one rupee coin before the cage and had to sit patiently. On a small paper sheet writing`yes`  and on another one `no` then folding both sheets Raicharan would shuffle among similar blank sheets, then picking a vermilion pasted cowry  Raicharan would press it reverentially on his own as well as seeker`s forehead all along chanting, By Devi`s divine grace,  O! Trinity thou divine grace, Touch my Bird of Destiny. Raicharan would then place all mixed-up sheets before the cage thereafter releasing the parrot. The bird hopping over the folded sheets would pick one – a seeker would get pleased with an affirmative response or sad if negative before leaving the refuge of the tree.

Someday a schoolboy would come running seeking to know beforehand whether he will pass or not the dreaded annual examination: Raicharan would ask the boy to name any three flowers –satisfied with the boy’s response Raicharan would assure the eager boy that he was destined to pass the examination. The elated boy would leave cheerfully offering a ten paise coin.

But most of his business hours remained otherwise dull and  Raicharan spent many a peaceful hour dozing off till he wrapped up in the evening after counting the day`s earnings. On a particular day, the collection was only thirty rupees which made him feel desolate thinking how such meager income would satiate the needs of two people. A deep sigh escaped from inside his aching soul, making his ribs stick out from the threadbare skin.  On such days he would be left with no energy to pack his things.

On one occasion, at late noon  when  Raicharan was lonely  and about to be  napping, someone   approached  in a hurry, then sneaking around whispered,” Panditji, would you please foresay?” Raicharan casually asked, “what ?”  The fortune seeker shot his question, “Will my beloved deceive me”. Raicharan enquired more, “How long the affair has been”? Pat, came the response, “About say a year”. Further questioning on the marital status of the beloved and Initials generated more response, “Widow “and name`s first letter?” “ P”. Closing both eyes meditatively, Raicharan spoke with a deep baritone “If you spare thirty bucks I  may look at the Nail Vision”.

The man eagerly took out a fifty rupee note from his purse and gave it to Raicharan. Keeping the note Raicharan dragged the man`s thumb and then started rubbing a cowrie on it circularly – his lips murmuring. After a while looking sharply at the nail he uttered laughing, “You are my customer, so, will not fool you, beware”. Such seekers do come at intervals now also.

Raicharan looked much older than his age – his hard struggle had taken a toll on his appearance. However,  away from this old tree, in a narrow lane under broken tiles shade, within a dingy room, someone awaited Raicharan’s return calmly, the person resembled a  tender beautiful creeper even at mid-forty- she is  Parulbala, his wife.

Our fortune teller Raicharan who used to predict every movement of Saturn, Moon, Venus, or Mercury and knew ways to preempt unsolicited adversities thereupon, is absolutely unaware of how destiny was playing at his doorstep this evening.

Awaiting at the doorstep was  Chunilal, a neighbor who had been a regular for the last few months during the night to play cards with Raicharan. By profession, a mechanic Chunilal has handsome earnings for a single man. On a few occasions, he offered costly sarees that pleased Parulbala. Even Raicharan hesitatingly had to say “Fine saree”. The very Chunilal today in a serious voice was pestering, ”Hurry, Parul”. Parul jeered, “Why blame me? You are late in coming; I thought again I have been cheated in a matter of heart like when I got married to Raicharan. “

All these days, Parulbala had been holding grudge against Raicharan as she was convinced that she had been fooled and deceived. Before marriage, Parulbala, a poor, fair-looking teen of very poor parents in a remote village, was convinced by  Raicharan who posed himself as an astrologer in high demand with his own city chamber. A simple-minded Parulbala got easily lured into marriage with sweet appreciative talks and decent earnings of youthful Raicharan, an orphan since childhood. She felt completely foxed and cheated as soon as she landed in the dingy with Raicharan after marriage, twenty years ago.

All these years she had been tolerating but never forgiven for a moment Raicharan, an outright cheat. There were days when she had to remain fasting as they did not have rice or vegetables for cooking. For days she had to wear a torn single saree as Raicharan could not earn enough to buy a second sari for her. How could she forget and forgive an impostor like Raicharan?  She reconciled with her fate but always felt hatred toward her husband.

Months back, one evening while Parulbala had been lighting an earthen lamp at Tulsi`s spot, she noticed  Chunilal standing at the entrance watching her in silence. Parulbala surprisingly enquired,” How come so early for card play? Your friend is yet to come.” I know I have a present for you” so saying Chunilal took out a packet hidden inside his shirt pocket and opened it. It was a branded cream. He forwarded it to her expecting pleasant acceptance. Initially, Parulbala showed no reaction but then extended her palm and took it. Since then it has been a regular occurrence for Chunilal to come to meet Parul with branded toiletries –occasionally fish, mutton, or seasonal fruits. Raicharan, too unashamedly relished the taste of those food items brought by Chunilal – Raicharan was painfully aware that he will not be able to afford such luxuries on his meager uncertain daily earnings. Days passed on Parulbala could not help but feel affectionate towards Chunilal would always come with gifts or baggage full of fish and vegetables.

 Hurry up it`s getting late- Chunilal today started getting impatient. Realising that his desire had conned him like her husband. Chunilal uttered in disgust, “I had this premonition Parul, that ultimately, you would not come. I was a fool to dream of settling with you in a faraway land and renouncing this place. I have failed to judge your mind correctly- you and your husband are both frauds and impostors”. Chunilal left the doorstep in utter disgust.

An adaptive transliterated version of a Bengali  short story titled  THAGINI by  the renowned modern age Bengali novelist and journalist  Subodh Ghosh.

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