People flocked to the house of Panditji (who passed away on April 1, 2015, but who I don't name here), next-door to mine, at all hours. They came once, then again, bringing relatives and friends along. I knew he was an astrologer of sorts, but not being a believer in it, I couldn't ever under-stand people's craze.
I often asked him: "What do you tell the people, that they become your followers forever after?"
"Why don't you come one day and see for your-self," he replied.
The opportunity came soon. As I opened the door to pick up the newspaper one morning, I saw an elderly man at the gate, struggling with the latch. Seeing me he asked: "I have been waiting out a long time, do you know if Panditji is in?"
“ Never forget that every time you deliberately try to harm anyone, you shall have to pay ” “ Why a laugh costs nothing... and some grins are hard to forget ”
I opened the gate and rang the bell. Panditji opened the door himself. As soon as the man saw him, he fell at Panditji's feet.
"Array, aap kya kar rake hain", Panditji said.
"Panditji, you can save me. I've come a long way."
I was intrigued and looked at Panditji as if to re-mind him of his promise. He understood, and asked me to come in. "Now," he said, sitting down, "What's troubling you so much to have brought you to my door so early in the morning?" The man looked hesitantly at me.
"Don't worry, she helps me. Be free to speak."
"Panditji," he said, touching his feet again, "I have a great problem only you with your extraordinary powers can help me." And, he took out a small purse. "A small dakshina."
"Keep it aside, now tell me." "Well prabhu, it's my wife. I am sick of her, I can't bear her anymore. Please rid me of her."
"You wish her dead?" queried Panditji, aghast.
The man kept quiet, and Panditji closed his eyes, bent his head and sat in silence and so completely immobile I wondered if he had gone into a trance.
At last, he raised his head and said. 'Well, when you want to rob someone of life, you have to pay the price?"
"Yes," he said eagerly, his hand creeping into to his pocket again.
"Not in terms of mon-ey. Human life is far more precious, and money can never pay for it. You've to pay a different kind of price. According to my deductions, your wife has 10 more years of life left to her, and you have 13. If she died now, she would be robbed of 10 years of life. You shall have to pay for those from the years left to you. So, after her death you will live for only three more years."
"What are you saying prabhu? What use is any-thing to me if I have just three more years to live, just three years? I am 50, I don't want to die yet."
"Ah-a, Ah," said Panditji. "So you only want her dead?" The man hung his dead. Panditji lapsed into silence again. 'Well, there is another way out. When you married her according to Hindu rites, she became your ardhangani, right? If she dies now by your wish, half of you will die too. The moment she dies, half your body will be paralysed."
The man's pallor was horrible. "No, no, I can't bear that. Oh, please..."
'Well, you would have a poor woman dead and you cannot bear even the thought of any pain for yourself. But tell me, why do you want her dead?"
"Because I'm sick of her. For 30 years she has nagged me. I just can't bear it. Please, at least stop her tongue, use your powers and turn her mute."
"I've a perfect solution," said Panditji, relieved. "This way you will be saved from kukaram of harm-ing your wife and also never be bothered by her voice. I shall turn you deaf. So totally and complete-ly that you'll not hear anything unpleasant, from your wife or anyone else."
The man stood up and started edging towards the door. "Sit down," Panditji held his hand. "You've given me dakshina, and in return I shall give you a budhi mantra. Never forget that every time you de-liberately try to harm anyone, you shall have to pay. Now, go home, meditate, pray and think over what I've said. Hopefully, you will understand things in the right perspective."
I still don't believe in mantra or tantra, but I have joined Panditji's admirers.
ranidevasar@gmail.corn
