Infallible predictions of village soothsayer
DECADES ago, when sex determination through ultrasonography machines was alien to the people in rural areas, the predictions by a man seemingly possessing wizardly powers in our town never failed. Popularly known as Yotishthakur (venerated astrologer), he was a septuagenarian with a beard and hair that had a saffron hue.
His forehead would be smeared with thick vermilion mixed with turmeric paste and ash. Garlands of colourful beads and rudrakshas of different shapes and sizes would adorn his neck and thin wrists. A large number of pregnant women, especially those belonging to the surrounding villages, looked forward to Yotishthakur revealing the gender of the unborn baby.
The wispy little fellow would visit villages on foot with an oblong little tin box, selling bangles, rings, pendants, etc. — all made of conch shells. His outfit started attracting people and made them regard him as a saintly person. His appearance gradually overshadowed his three-generation profession of hawking conch shell products.
His modus operandi was quite safe. At first, he somehow guessed through casual conversations the wish of the pregnant woman and her family members. Most of the families desired a male child. He would never disappoint them. After a meticulous examination of the husband’s right palm and the wife’s left one, he would prophesy in accordance with their wish.
He would advise expecting mothers to wear an amulet blessed by Goddess Kali to get the desired result. The amulet was supposed to be the protector of the coming child from any sort of evil spell. Besides fulfilling his monetary demand, people would replenish the saffron bag hanging across his shoulder with rice, vegetables, fruits and sweets.
When delivering his prophecies, he would demand that the amulet be returned to him immediately after the birth of the child. He also warned clients never to open or lose the amulet as it might lead to miscarriage. Naturally, never did the naïve villagers think of going against his wishes. In case his prediction went wrong, he would melt the paraffin used to seal the amulet, revealing a piece of paper on which the gender of the newborn baby would be mentioned. He would then explain that he, in fact, had known the gender of the baby but did not want to upset the expectant mother. For this reason, he would claim, he had written the correct prediction on the paper inside the amulet.
Actually, the gender he wrote on that paper would always be the opposite of what he would prophesise. If the prophecy didn’t come true and the paper was taken out, it would be found that Yotishthakur was, in fact, right. People’s trust and respect for him never waned. Unwittingly, his predictions managed to prevent foeticide.