The other day, I caught sight of a snap of Virat Kholi, with his upraised hand and a bat in his hand. Underneath the slightly raised shirt sleeve existed a tattoo that screamed ‘Scorpio’ - the astrological sun sign that stands as a mystery to scores of individuals. I wondered if there was any relation with his sun sign and his success. Not that I am a stern believer in this incantation, but instincts were customary as I indulged in my fair share of studying stars when I was a college graduate.
Over the years, on appraising myself with countless astrology books, I comprehend Scorpio is a powerful sun sign. It exists in three variations. One, the sign of eagle that regenerates as the phoenix that rises from the ashes; other, the sign of Scorpion, which stings itself to death, finally, the sign of the grey lizard, which withdraws into itself often wallowing in self-pity.
During the pre-university days, I was so obsessed with astrology that I read more number of occult books than subject books. This was furious enough for my parents to think of throwing me out of the house. But my siblings convinced my parents it was only a passing fade.
Passing fade, my foot! I still read all that stuff! Though it may not be in the same breath and admiration.
My earlier obsession fringed on insanity as I had my natal chart drawn and analyzed. As if this fixation was not enough, I hung on to every word this chart predicted; as if my whole destiny was pre-determined by the stars at a distance. And I absolutely had no say in my destiny.
Not the one to keep the knowledge to self, I dragged many a friend into vortex of occult sciences. I was a personal counselor to countless star-crazy youngsters who clamoured around to find out which girlfriend would best suit their respective sun-signs. Deep discussions over cups of coffee, calculations, assumptions and planetary influences were analysed debated and discarded before deciding the fate of the would-be or may-not-be girlfriends.
For all the knowledge of the stars, I was treated as a star myself. And I thoroughly enjoyed the adulation.
The reading wasn’t just restricted to astrology but spanned almost every sphere of occult science. Cheiro, Linda Goodman and others would have been greatly thrilled at the mammoth crush I had on their predictions. Their writings were scriptures in which my entire life and scores of others lives lay trapped. When I think back now, I can only say what a sheer waste of time!
However, I wouldn’t say it was all a waste of time, as many girls clamored around to wherever I was just to listen to their future predictions through someone who is a die-hard fan of Cheiros or Goodmans or Duruwalas.
I wouldn’t say there was any fortune in doing so, but I would I say I was fortunate enough to hold hands of beautiful damsels as they gazed into my eyes - the reason enough to drive all my other classmates’ wild with envy. Then it suddenly dawned on me - studying stars wasn’t all that waste. I knew for certain, the stars did smile on me in other ways.
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