Had not been studious
And diligent,
A mediocre
Wanted he
To be an astrologer
As for employment and engagement,
A countryside loafer,
Uneducated, illiterate and superstitious fellow,
Backward and poor,
But blunt and bluffing
To be educated
Through astrology and palmistry.

Started he the journey of life,
First, tried he to be religious
Wearing the ochre-clad clothes,
Keeping the palmyra charts
And cowrie shells,
Searching for
Herbal roots and talking of mantric effect,
Planetary impacts,
Guessing and saying about
Good and bad days
Through assumption.

An Indian astrologer,
The making of it,
How a villagerly brat,
Bad and bogus
And bluffing
Turns into a respected astrologer
Not of the villages,
But the towns
Prescribing stones,
Talking of the zodiac circles,
Marking the positions
Of the palms and the forehead.

Astrologer,
An Indian astrologer
Dressed in saffron
Keeping company with the pundits,
Soothsayers, fortune-tellers,
Horoscope-makers,
Stone-dealers
And other bluff-masters.

While beginning the things,
He starts it abruptly,
Your forehead is beautiful enough,
The head big and round
Telling of intellect and wisdom,
The nails well-knit,
The fate-line straight,
But somewhere Rahu-Ketu crosses it,
Cuts through,
Beware of friends.

Keep yourself on guard
From water, fire,
A few accidents escaped you
Unhurt,
Pray to him for safety
And wear the stones
As per my counsel,
Give time to studies,
Two wives had been,
But one is crossed,
But I can assure you,
The wife will be very genteel,
Good and obedient.

You speak the things rightly
In a straightforward manner
And this the world likes it not,
Your heart is very clean,
Nothing remains in the stomach,
But the world is different,
As you now,
I know it
And can feel it
Hence the trouble,
Try to keep yourself cool,
Calm you.

Now it is getting late
And I have to go,
Go a long walk,
Walk away to,
Babji, Babaji,
See, see me,
See, see my hand please,
On palm after another
Getting extended to,
Even the critics
Getting lured
By the words.

Give me the fees,
Charges,
Follow the instructions
Given,
It will work,
Wear the stones
Prescribed,
The impact of Saturn
Will remove soon,
The good days are yet to dawn upon,
You are awaiting some good news
To come to,
Wait,
Just wait for that.

Rise early in the morning,
Take a bath
And pray to God,
Do the suryanamanskar
Offering the potful water
In the water body
Or wherever be it
Before taking your breakfast,
On Tuesdays and Saturdays
Offer red hibiscus flowers
To Mother Kali
For the shantih of graham-gocharas.

Mark the dress and dressing of his,
An Indian astrologer,
Ochre-clad saffronite
With a red bundle,
Three bhashma lines on the forehead
And a red vermillion spot
And the rudraksha bracelets
And rosary around the head,
He looking like a yogi not,
But a fakira,
With gems and stones
And other remedies
For good and bad times of man,
For the cure of planetary impacts.

An Indian village boy,
A Brahmin brat
And that too an acharya,
A sub-Brahmin,
A village loafer and roamer
On the way
To be an astrologer
To do a business
And to make a name,
Talking of the blessings of
Ganesha, Lakshmi and Saraswati.

An uneducated and illiterate boy,
Superstitious and backward
Wanting he to be
An astrologer,
An astrologer of India-fame,
A palmist, an astrologer,
A calculator
Of the good and the bad,
How to make good fortunes,
A thug,
Great thug of India
Archetypal and conventional!

Bijay Kant Dubey

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Disclaimer: The image used herein is in the public domain and taken from the Internet. Due appreciation and credit is acknowledged for the same.

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