Remember those college days (halcyon days for us Indians) there was a time when many were fascinated by Palmistry ? Most of our fellow palmists (or should I say all) were fakes whose soul intention was to use it as a pretext for holding a girl's hand.
For them the little knowledge they acquired through reading couple of pages of "Palmistry for the Dummies" was not a dangerous thing, rather pretty useful to hold the hands of pretty MANDUs (a slang for nubile females). Girls who otherwise would normally sense the flirtatious character in a guy from miles away, somehow obliged them by showing their palms for a reading of the writings on it.
Perhaps a sense of insecurity along with an eagerness to learn what their future holds for them, made them fall for the trap. Our palmist would hold the palms, while tilting it little left and right would bring his eyes closer, gently roll his thumb over it faking all the seriousness of scanning the lines.
Then he would make all goody goody predictions, because the rosier the prediction the longer you can hold on to the hands (a bad prediction could backfire with the opposite effect). The boys who were less insecure most of their questions would rally around their profession goals.
A typical question posed to the palmist was if the foreign line existed. Those days when traveling out of state was the big deal going out of country was kinda dream. That line was supposed to come from the bottom left of your palm. The farther it goes, the farther you should travel. If it is less than a centimeter you go to Nepal or Bangladesh. An inch or so you travel to Dubai or Singapore. The longer it is, farther you go from your land of birth.
Some of my Engineering college mates came from Nepal, Palestine, Ethiopia and Kenya (who else would come to India and stay for 4 years those days). Technically they had travelled to a foreign land. Curiously I would look for foreign lines on their hand. For Nepalis I expected shorter and longer foreign lines for Palestinians. But non of them had the elusive foreign line.
Yet these books sold like hot cakes, especially in the AH Wheeler stores in Railway Stations. While travelling in trains they were great reads and tools for time pass, especially when train journeys can last up to 48 hours. Enclosed inside the train compartment one gets good enough time to form relationships. As the time gets closer to get off from the train, addresses and phone numbers were exchanged.
But rarely such relationships lingered on any further. Like the line of head and line of heart on the palm which run parallel to each other and never meet, so also the train passengers as they bid adieu after arriving at their destination - to follow the destiny on their palms.
For them the little knowledge they acquired through reading couple of pages of "Palmistry for the Dummies" was not a dangerous thing, rather pretty useful to hold the hands of pretty MANDUs (a slang for nubile females). Girls who otherwise would normally sense the flirtatious character in a guy from miles away, somehow obliged them by showing their palms for a reading of the writings on it.
Perhaps a sense of insecurity along with an eagerness to learn what their future holds for them, made them fall for the trap. Our palmist would hold the palms, while tilting it little left and right would bring his eyes closer, gently roll his thumb over it faking all the seriousness of scanning the lines.
Then he would make all goody goody predictions, because the rosier the prediction the longer you can hold on to the hands (a bad prediction could backfire with the opposite effect). The boys who were less insecure most of their questions would rally around their profession goals.
A typical question posed to the palmist was if the foreign line existed. Those days when traveling out of state was the big deal going out of country was kinda dream. That line was supposed to come from the bottom left of your palm. The farther it goes, the farther you should travel. If it is less than a centimeter you go to Nepal or Bangladesh. An inch or so you travel to Dubai or Singapore. The longer it is, farther you go from your land of birth.
Some of my Engineering college mates came from Nepal, Palestine, Ethiopia and Kenya (who else would come to India and stay for 4 years those days). Technically they had travelled to a foreign land. Curiously I would look for foreign lines on their hand. For Nepalis I expected shorter and longer foreign lines for Palestinians. But non of them had the elusive foreign line.
Yet these books sold like hot cakes, especially in the AH Wheeler stores in Railway Stations. While travelling in trains they were great reads and tools for time pass, especially when train journeys can last up to 48 hours. Enclosed inside the train compartment one gets good enough time to form relationships. As the time gets closer to get off from the train, addresses and phone numbers were exchanged.
But rarely such relationships lingered on any further. Like the line of head and line of heart on the palm which run parallel to each other and never meet, so also the train passengers as they bid adieu after arriving at their destination - to follow the destiny on their palms.
Such chance encounters in life is best depicted me of a passage from our epic BHAGVAT GEETA. Two logs floating in the middle of Ocean collide with each other only once to get separated forever, never to meet ever again.
It reminds me of Kishore Kumar song:
AATE JAATE KHOOBSURAT
AWARA SADKON PE
KABHI KABHI ITTEFAQ SE ;
ITNE ANJAAN LOG MIL JAATE HAIN
IN MEIN KUCHH LOG BHUL JAATE HAIN
KUCHH YAAD REH JAATEIN HAI..
KABHI KABHI ITTEFAQ SE ;
ITNE ANJAAN LOG MIL JAATE HAIN
IN MEIN KUCHH LOG BHUL JAATE HAIN
KUCHH YAAD REH JAATEIN HAI..
Roughly transliterated....
On these vagabond roads
Once in a while by chance
Many unknown faces we meet;
Some we forget
And some in memory forever fit.
Once in a while by chance
Many unknown faces we meet;
Some we forget
And some in memory forever fit.
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