Untouched by the stars

Granduncle Mathootty was a strange character.  A widely read man, a truly liberal-minded and erudite person of his generation and a popular figure especially among the youngsters of his day, this colourful man led an essentially happy life although he lagged behind his four brothers in riches and possessions because while his brothers were temperamentally industrious and entrepreneurial he pursued idle scholarship and lived off his inheritance. Also it was no secret that late into his married life he was subject to seemingly unending harassment and nagging at home, not so much for his indifference to money-making as for his wife’s lately-formed distrust of his conjugal loyalty. But every one familiar with him recognized him as a thorough gentleman, and he would simply laugh at the face of his wife’s naggings. But why this wifely distrust of him, and that too when they were both past their midlife? And thereby hangs a tale of an astrological mischief.

Deferred effects of a silly old prediction

From the lady’s angle, one might say her suspicion was not altogether without reason. That is, given the widespread superstitions of the times, any one who was familiar with the background of the case could view the man with suspicion. For, the renowned astrologer Madhava Panikker had foretold when Mathootty was in his adolescence that he would marry at the age of twenty and would be blessed with a total number of ten children. He did indeed marry at the age of twenty thereby incidentally fulfilling Panikker’s prophesy. But the couple had only five children even as his wife was approaching menopause. And she became suspicious and panicky. Panikker never made a prediction in vain. If Mathootty’s stars had foretold a certain number of children for him, and if Panikker had acted as their mouthpiece, then the prediction had to be fulfilled. He was infallible; so was his elder brother Sankara Panikker too; and no one had any doubt about that. Even members of the royal families of the day used to regularly consult them. But our Mathootty never trusted in the occult.

Thresiamma wondered, “Does it mean I would die early and he would remarry? And thus the prophecy would find its fulfillment?”

Maryam spoke to her reassuringly, “Well, I wouldn’t blame you for entertaining such thoughts, dear. But, you are in the pink of health now. And you are some years younger than him. So, between the two of you, it is you who are the most likely candidate for survival.” Maryam was a childless woman some few years her senior and a respected gossipmonger in the neighbourhood.

“Then how could Panikker’s prediction come true? Would I become pregnant even after menopause like Sarah of Abraham? That too, as many as five more times?”

Maryam didn’t respond in words; but her parting smile was as soothing as it was disturbingly enigmatic.

From the time she was forty, Thresiamma had been sharing her concern with her husband. Mathootty would dismiss her fears as baseless because he never trusted astrology as a means of gazing into the future; and it was his conviction that only the superstitious would believe in predictions based on the positions of the distant stars and planets, or on the basis of the patterns of lines on your palm and myriad other signs. You see, he was a rationalist by temperament. He would not blindly believe in anything that was offered to him without reason. In fact he consulted the astrologer Madhava Panikker once in his younger days not from any anxiety to have a peep into his future but essentially for teasing the astrologer and proving him wrong. He did tease him; but, after many years, it now seemed that the astrologer would have the last laugh at him.

The young, liberal, skeptic Mathootty

Those were the days when, as a proud matriculate in his teens, Mathootty was grossly skeptical of all kinds of spiritual beliefs. He was fond of history and literature, and was amazed at the widespread superstitions prevalent among such sophisticated people as the ancient Greeks and Romans in their heydays. It was simply difficult for him to comprehend the occult practices commonly and shamelessly indulged in by the great heroes of the Iliad and the historical giants among the ruling elite of imperial Rome. They invariably consulted the oracles and checked for favourable signs even in the entrails of certain birds freshly killed before venturing upon a political initiative or military expedition. Mathootty was full of admiration and awe of Socrates for his rational thinking in his days of the “Enlightened Superstitious”. He admired Shakespeare not only for his deep insights into the human mind but also for his rational approach to the affairs of men and matters. A favourite quote of his was the Bard’s famous line spoken through the mouth of the Roman Senator Cassius, “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves”.

Mathootty was acclaimed to be the most outstanding student in his class in every department of the academics, in proficiency in English and Mathematics, in general knowledge and in oration. But he could not pursue his studies beyond matriculation for reasons beyond him. Mathootty’s classmates were all from affluent circumstances and most of them pursued higher studies at elite colleges of those days in various parts of India and eventually adorned high places in the British Raj.

One of his class fellows was a Shyamal Prabhu. There was common interest between Shyamal and Mathootty. They were both interested in English literature. They would often discuss Shakespeare, Dickens, Sir Walter Scott and other literary figures who had made a mark in English literature. This was encouraged by their English language teacher too, a white Englishman. Eventually, Shyamal and Mathootty began exchanging personal confidences too, and they became thick friends.

Shyamal’s pre-marital consultation with the astrologer

Young Shyamal confided to his friend one day about his impending marriage and his visit to astrologer Madhava Panikker.

Panikker could easily divine from the blushing face of fair Shyamal that his marriage was round the corner. And he straightaway “foretold” his imminent marriage. He was 16 then, and it was common in those days for boys in the age group of 16-20 to get married. And then the astrologer launched into a lovey-dovey story about his affair in his previous birth. Shyamal was a prince charming. His lady love was the lovely daughter of the king of a hostile territory in the neighbourhood. They met and loved in secret. When the affair was discovered, the fury of their respective parents knew no bounds. And the young lovers committed suicide. Shyamal was now going to marry the same girl in her reincarnated form. And Madhava Panikker did not forget to add that he would eventually have as many as six children.

Shyamal was still blushing and panting as he ran to his bosom friend Mathootty to tell him about his meeting with the astrologer and the mesmerizing things he told. But Mathootty was absolutely insensitive to the situation. He straightaway taunted his friend for approaching a soothsayer the moment his marriage was fixed. All of a sudden he noticed a dark shadow of acute pain crossing Shyamal’s moonstruck face. Realizing the effects of his tactless comment, Mathootty tried to mollify him by tentatively concurring with the astrologer’s predictions and going one step further by offering to call on the astrologer for consultations for himself. Till then he would keep his judgment in suspense.

Thus it was that the young, skeptic Mathootty went to consult the astrologer. It was a penance offering. Out of repentance for hurting the sentiments of his closest friend precisely at the moment when his adolescent mind was in a most sensitive and vulnerable mood.

Mathootty challenges the astrologer

Years later, Mathootty would confide the story of his encounter with the astrologer to one of his grandnephews, Thomas Kutty.

He said:

I was exactly sixteen when I went to meet the much respected soothsayer. The purpose was to tease him; to prove him wrong. 

I was admitted into his pooja room (prayer room), where I found him seated on the floor in sukhasanam (a comfortable yogic posture). This noble grandfather figure gently asked me to be seated on the mat on the floor. Then he closed his eyes for a few seconds and sat in a prayerful attitude. Waking up, he affectionately asked me for my nakshatram (star). I said I didn't know. (That was a deliberate lie; I had heard from my father that my star was Utthram.)

With a brief prayer, he tossed a piece of betel leaf into the air as if to invoke some invisible deity hovering around there. Then he made this startling statement, "You were born 16 years ago this month in Utthram!" 

If he noticed my instant discomfiture, he was mature enough not to show it. You can easily imagine that I was momentarily nonplussed. His confidence in pinpointing my age to the precise month was really disconcerting. He hit the bulls-eye blindfolded. I went to fool him; and he seemed to fool me! 

The seer then predicted that I would marry four years later around my birthday. (This eventually became an accurate prediction.)

Then he made the mistake. He launched into a chocolate ice cream story about my romance in my previous birth. The story was very similar to the one he told to Shyamal Prabhu.

"You were a prince then. Fell in love with a girl from another community. Your father sternly forbade the marriage ..."

I taunted him, "Then the young lovers committed suicide?"

"Exactly," the wise man was unflappable.

"And I'll marry the same girl, reincarnated, when I am twenty?"

"Absolutely correct", he said without batting an eyelid.

He added, “Also, you’ll be blessed with ten children.”

It was this parting shot of his that caused much discomfort to Thresiamma years later.

Mathootty’s immediate reaction to the astrologer’s ‘revelations’ about his age and ‘star’ was not exactly pleasant. How could the old man pinpoint his birthday so accurately? Could he see through his mind? Was he a preternaturally gifted person? Was he also good at physiognomy? That the young man was sixteen could be guessed from his growing body. But Utthram?  Do Utthram-born people have some identifiable features in common?

But predictions about couples can put astrologer into trouble

Then, all of a sudden, another thought, with many possibilities, struck Mathootty. That was concerning marriage. Marriage requires two persons. Mostly two persons previously unknown to each other in those days of arranged marriage. Predictions separately made concerning these two individuals, if genuine, should match. Here the astrologer seemed to stand on a slippery ground. The astrologer predicted the number of children the consultee would have, and he also seemed to narrate his/her pre-birth story. If the number of future children as predicted varies for the boy and for the girl, either the prediction was wrong or the two candidates were not made for each other. Similar would be the case in the event of a mismatch in the pre-birth stories.

Mathootty continued his narration to Thomas Kutty:

I gave Shyamal a report of what transpired at my meeting with Panikker, but hid from him the portion about his revelation about my Utthram background. My emphasis was on the pre-birth story. And I assured him I would believe in the astrologer if his revelations about his fiancée’s pre-birth story matched with his.

Shyamal was in a fix. How could he take up such a thing with the girl or with her parents!  Noticing his bewilderment, I volunteered to approach the girl’s father, who was none other than our class teacher Mr. Ramananda Rao. He was very fond of Shyamal Prabhu. He used to say about him in the open class, “My Prabhu looks every inch a prabhu (prince charming)”. Shyamal was very fair and handsome. And Mr. Rao liked me too. That seemed to make things easy for me to talk with him about the astrologer.

But there was risk. If the astrologer would venture into her pre-birth story, and the pre-birth stories of the boy and the girl varied, would their conservative families insist on calling off the proposed marriage? It would be sad if that happened, for Mr. Rao and my friend Shyamal were both eager about it. But Mr. Ramananda Rao was a liberal soul with a scientific temper and he won’t go by astrology. The only precaution to be taken was to make the operation secret from others in the family.

By the way, Mr. Ramananda Rao was a very special character among our teachers. He was an ardent admirer of Raja Ram Mohan Roy who, some 60 odd years before had successfully worked through Lord William Bentinck to bring about a law forbidding the heinous practice among some Hindus of sati (self-immolation of the widow on the funeral pyre of her deceased husband). Mr. Rao was also excited about the recent formation of the Theosophical Society of India and of the Indian National Congress. The print media was becoming popular. The Times of India had been in existence for a while then. Travancore’s Malayala Manorama had been successfully launched as a weekly newspaper. And many of India’s upper class families had begun to change in their outlook. Mr. Ramananda Rao was one among them. They were all looking forward to the ushering in of a truly modern 20^th century.

Prabhu’s fiancée consults the astrologer

Thus, chiefly with a view to disabusing his future son-on-law of superstitious beliefs in astrology, Ramananda Rao took his daughter Sakunthala to the senior astrologer Sankara Panikker. The seer narrated, among other things, her pre-birth story as well. Pre-birth stories seemed to be a speciality of the Panikker brothers, a practice not so commonly observed among most others in the trade. As expected, Sakunthala’s pre-birth story told by the senior Panikker did not match with Shyamal’s story told by his junior. She was a princess and he a commoner. The boy was executed at the orders of the king and she committed suicide. And they were going to marry now in their present incarnation. The one thing that was common in the Panikker brothers’ pre-birth stories was that the consultee was a prince or princess who committed suicide due to unfulfilled love with someone. Obviously a marketing technique aimed at pleasing the innocent teenage customer. Ramananda Rao mildly scolded his future son-on-law for his gullibility that made him take such fairy tales so seriously.

Thresiamma’s paranoia gets acute

Initially when she expressed her vague apprehension about the possibility of her premature death followed by her husband’s remarriage to a younger woman so that Panikker’s prophesy could be fulfilled, Mathootty dismissed it with some typically skeptic comments. He merely advised her, at first with tongue in cheek, and later with some concern, to seek solace from religion. It was all evil thoughts induced by the devil!

But when it occurred to him that she was genuinely apprehensive and might go nuts, he began to be alarmed.

And her confidante Maryam now added a gravely more dangerous dimension to the situation.

She asked, “What if Mathootty gets children from outside? The astrologer had predicted ten children for him, and not necessarily for you! Worse still, what if he already has children from outside?”

Now, that was a bombshell for Thresiamma. She shook from her very foundations.

“Has it ever occurred to you that your godson Gabri Kutty could be your stepson as well?”

Thresiamma nearly fainted.

Gabri Kutty an illicit child of Mathootty?

Maryam gently helped Thresiamma revive her memory of the circumstances in which the boy was born. His father Pappu, a middle-aged man then, was walking carelessly along the railway track. Being temporarily deaf then, he did not hear the sound of the train coming from behind. The train whizzed past him, throwing him off to a distance in the process. The hapless man’s right leg suffered severe fractures and he was in the hospital for a couple of months. When he left the hospital, his right leg had been amputated. From now on he would have to use crutches for moving around, and the man realized that life for him would no longer be the same again.

Pappu’s family had the support and solace of their many friends. His wife Margarita was comely in appearance and easy in manners. Hence their friends had no discomfort or embarrassment in regularly visiting them and freely giving their services. One such friend was Mathootty. He was a regular visitor to Pappu during his convalescence. He could persuade even his wife Thresiamma to occasionally visit the family during the period of their trial.  

Margarita conceived during that troubled period. Gossipers didn’t fail to notice something awkward in its timing. But no particular person’s name was heard associated with the development, and the gossip soon faded. Mathootty sponsored the child for baptism; and thus he and his wife became his godparents.

Now Maryam has revived the long forgotten gossip. She was now projecting it with links to the astrologer’s prediction concerning Mathootty. For effect she dragged in the baptism story as well. She asked, “And what special interest did he have in volunteering to sponsor the child’s baptism?”

Never before had Thresiamma heard any gossip about the legitimacy of Gabri Kutty’s birth. Now, all of a sudden, it had dawned on her that she was being cheated by her husband into ‘adopting’ the child as a godson. This was beyond the threshold of her forbearance and, surely, she would explode that evening.  

And the inevitable showdown in the family

She did explode that evening. Sulking at first, she became a tornado soon, throwing things out of the house, at her husband and at the children who came in to see what the tumult was all about. By now her eldest son was nearly thirty and was living in the neighbourhood with his wife and four children. He tried to pacify the mother and received in that process the gift of a wound from a brazen curio flung at him. Soon all their children and grandchildren were gathered around the mother. She eventually lost her voice as she spent most of her nervous energy.

The old man kept his cool. He opened his mouth when she had had her say and told his children for the first time about the story of his visit to an astrologer when he was in his teens and about the seer’s predictions as also the fairy tales he said. “I made the silly mistake of relating them to your mother in the early days of our marriage. I must have been excited at that time. Obviously she had taken them seriously. And here are the consequences…. After more than three decades!”

The eldest son Chacko, then a lecturer at the Maharaja’s College, was of the view that predictions of a good astrologer based on the positions of the stars, planets and comets deserved to be regarded with some respect, because the heavenly bodies influenced life on this planet all the time, and astrology was based on centuries of painstaking observations of those phenomena. “Appa, you are quite familiar with the line, ‘There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in your philosophy’. So, granting astrology is a pseudo-science as you always insist, there are still things in this world that we don’t understand. Amma’s mind obviously is not on the same plane as yours. Your cold reasoning will be of no comfort to her.”

“Damn with your astrology and philosophy”, interjected the younger brother Anthony, the pragmatic businessman of the family. “Appan is a much respected man in the community. If Amma goes on screaming like this without even a shred of evidence, neighbours are sure to take her to a mental asylum. So the first priority in the family is for Amma to keep quiet. What has happened has happened. And even if Appan had gone astray at some point of time in his life, that cannot be undone now. The important thing is that Appan is a good family man. What more do you want, Amma? So accept the situation and live a practical life. And don’t create scenes that might cause evil thoughts to creep into the minds of your innocent grandchildren who are witnessing the scene.”

Mathootty’s daughter Anna and her children were on a holiday with her parents that summer vacation. She was greatly embarrassed by the scene of her children witnessing their grandmother’s tantrums, and was busy herding her curious children away to another room where she locked them up. Anna returned to the scene and said, "Thanks to Amma, I was acquainted from childhood with the pre-birth story and the prediction regarding a total of ten children in the family.  And if you have less number of children now, it simply means that the astrologer proposes and God disposes. Or, maybe, the stars have since changed their mind. You should not demur about it now. God has a plan for every one and it is always for our good.”

She continued, “I must confess that I overheard your conversation this forenoon with Maryam Aunty. Undoubtedly she is the real cause of this confusion…. Amma, why do you trust this kind of people? And poor Gabri Kutty. Please keep him totally out of this. He should never come to hear of this.”

These noisy exchanges late in the evening from a home known for its quiet and peace attracted the attention of at least one of their neighbours. Ouseph Unni was not known as a nosy person. The respected choir master at the parish church was returning home after his evening duties. Sensing something unusual in his neighbour's house, he stepped in. He was truly surprised to hear that someone had revived the old, forgotten, unfounded rumor about Margarita’s pregnancy at the time when her husband Pappu was in trouble. Only Ouseph Unni knew that the story was conjured up by his own wife Maryam.  He had severely admonished her for that at that time. The child was born barely eight months after the train accident that maimed its father, and it was a full grown babe. Then everyone cursed the unknown rumormonger. That was about fifteen years ago.

It was not difficult now for Ouseph Unni to guess the identity of the culprit this second instance too. And he was sure it was not by chance that he had become an instrument in the hands of God to undo the damage caused by his wife for the second time. He marveled at God’s providence in taking him there that evening at the right time. But he was upset that Maryam was still at her mischief. Was it because she was childless? He did not dare to think beyond. And why did she pick Mathootty and his wife for her purpose this time? Ouseph Unni was unaware of the astrologer’s predictions that made Mathootty’s family particularly vulnerable to Maryam’s machinations. So he went home with unresolved questions in his mind.

And in a flash Mathootty gets the idea of seeking his old friend’s help

Mathootty felt relieved by Ouseph Unni’s timely intervention. He was indeed a Godsend. Thresiamma and their children too were relieved that Gabri Kutty was a legitimate child of his parents and that he was not related with themselves through blood. But the late astrologer Panikker was still nagging her from within. Would she die a premature death? Or, would Mathootty have five children from outside, unknown to her?

Difficult for Mathootty to find a way out of this tangle.

He thought and thought. Would his respected parish priest Fr Thomas Mulloor be of help? Not likely; the impatient priest would straightaway ask her to instantly extirpate from her mind all un-Christian beliefs in the occult. Mathootty was sensitive enough to understand that no one could jettison such deep-rooted beliefs from one’s mind overnight. Or, could he bribe an astrologer now to tell her the original seer Madhave Panikker had made a mistake in his calculations? But that would be a risky step apart from being unethical. The Panikker brothers had an unassailable reputation for their integrity and infallibility. None in the profession could beat them even posthumously. And Mathootty himself might be exposed in the process. Thresiamma had a mind of her own.

And all of a sudden, an idea burst in his mind. There was one and only one man, and one woman, who could take on the ghost of Madhava Panikker to the satisfaction of Thresiamma. And they were none other than his old friends Shyamal and Sakunthala Prabhu. Shyamal was now a professor of English literature at the Presidency College, Madras. Since their parting from high school they had met a few times, mostly on the occasions of marriages in the families. Shyamal had conducted his children’s marriages at his ancestral home at Mattancherry, and hence Mathootty could attend them all. There he could meet his old guru Ramananda Rao as well. But Shyamal could witness only one of the weddings in Mathootty’s family. That was because of his workplace being away in Madras.

Now there was going to be a baptism in the household of Mathootty. His son Anthony’s wife would be confined in another ten days. He would invite them to the child’s baptism, to be held within a week after its birth. Mathootty took the paper and pen and wrote a detailed letter to Prof Prabhu, explaining the true purpose of the invitation and the emergent nature of the situation. With determination he walked to the nearby boat jetty and crossed over by boat to Fort Cochin and posted the letter at the Head Post Office there. From there he walked to call on his guru Mr. Ramananda Rao at his residence at Mattancherry. Mathootty received a warm welcome there. Mr. Rao in his early seventies was in reasonably good health and his cheer level was high as usual.

Mathootty explained the purpose of his visit. On being convinced of the seriousness of the situation, Mr. Rao volunteered to write to his son-in-law and daughter asking them to make it convenient for them to come down to attend the baptism without fail and help Mathootty out of the maze. Mathootty’s cup overflowed when Mr. Rao expressed the desire to join the team and visit his family for the first time ever. Mathootty returned home with glowing self-satisfaction.

The much longed-for reunion of the friends at Mathootty’s house

Baptism over, the guests departed, save Mathootty’s special friends Mr. Ramananda Rao, Shyamal Prabhu and his wife Sakunthala. They, the five of them, including Thresiamma, sat in the moonlit courtyard for small talk.

Shyamal casually brought in the subject of astrology without giving any room for Thresiamma to suspect. He artfully narrated the juvenile story told by Madhava Panikker about his previous birth, about his unfulfilled love affair and mutual suicide, and Panikker’s prediction that the old lovers would marry and fulfill their previous love in their new incarnation. More or less similar story was told by his elder brother Sankara Panikker when Sakunthala consulted him a couple of days later - with one notable difference. The elder astrologer made her a princess and him a commoner, while the younger one made them both royals but of mutually hostile countries.

Thresiamma interrupted him, “But my husband too was a prince according to Madhava Panikker.”

“Yes; that is the point”, Mr. Ramananda Rao said. “Professional astrologers would want to please their customers in several ways. They know from instinct, training and practice that teenagers approaching them for consultation would easily fall for such stories and they, in turn, would bring them more business by encouraging their friends to consult them. Now take Mathootty’s pre-birth story. If my memory serves me right, he was a prince and his lover was from a lower community. Had Thresiamma approached the astrologer, she would be the princess and Mathootty from a lower community. If the boy and the girl together visited him – that won’t happen in our conservative culture – both would be of royal blood and yet they would commit suicide for some reason or other. It doesn’t take much intelligence to conclude that these professionals have a few sample stories with them and they narrate them with some variance to different clients.”

                       

Thresiamma was agitated, “This is blasphemy. The Panikkers could never err. Even if they erred on occasions, they would certainly not debase astrology as a business. And, sorry Sir, I don’t have the guts to call you a liar!”

Mathootty was visibly embarrassed that his much respected teacher was insulted by his wife, and that too when he was their guest at home. Sakunthala discreetly said it was time for her father to take the pill and go to sleep. Accompanied by Mathootty, she took the old man to the guest room and left him there for the night.

“The problem, Thresiamma, is that he thinks he is still a teacher and every one else his student. I apologize to you for him”, said Sakunthala.

She continued, “But we had some misunderstanding in our family because of the two Panikkers. Till Gopal, our sixth child was born, we had no problem from these seers. But when I conceived for the seventh time, Shyamal seemed upset for no reason. His behavior became odd and his earlier warmth was not seen. It occurred to me that he was looking at me with suspicion. It was when I was in the fourth month that he disclosed at my insistence that the junior Panikker had predicted a total of six children for him! Now, Thresiamma, you can imagine the situation in the family when I was pregnant for the seventh time.”

Thresiamma was taken aback. “How was that possible?”

Sakunthala continued, “Yes; that was the question that Shyamal too asked almost instinctively. Obviously he thought I had some private lover! It simply did not occur to him that the astrologer’s prediction could be wrong. Shyamal had always claimed he didn’t have any belief in astrology. But when something happens in your own life, your dormant belief comes to the fore. The most hardened skeptic too becomes superstitious then. That is what happened to Shyamal.”

Sakunthala’s husband Shyamal sat there with a sheepish expression on his face. Mathootty sternly looked at him as a school teacher would look at an errant boy. Thresiamma sat there dumfounded.

Mathootty was the first to respond, “But, Shyamal, you had never mentioned to me anything about this prediction concerning the number of children you would have?”

Shyamal said, “You see, on the eve of my marriage I was in a heightened romantic mood and was totally enveloped in the highly sentimental pre-birth story the astrologer told. Nothing else in his predictions had appealed to me then. And never had I applied my mind on the number of children he predicted, except when Sakunthala became pregnant for the seventh time.”

Sakunthala continued, “And then I disclosed to him for the first time the long forgotten prediction that Sankara Panikker had made about my progeny…. Can you guess what Panikker had predicted for me? He said I would have eight children!”

“Oh, No!” Thresiamma jumped from her seat.

Mathootty sat there with a triumphant I-told-you-so smile.

And soon I had the eighth pregnancy. This time Shyamal was less uncomfortable. He had his justification, “The elder Panikker has proved right”.

Sakunthala said, “Now, brother Mathootty, don’t laugh. I conceived once again! I asked Shyamal: ‘Who must be my lover this time? Sankara Panikker’s quota was over last year. Could the new one be the contribution of some heavenly Gandharva who would clandestinely visit women at night and give them children?’”

Mathootty said, “It simply meant that you beat both the Panikkers. Their old predictions went haywire. When Sakunthala exceeded the junior Panikker’s quota for Shyamal, he suspected her, but she defended herself by projecting the senior’s prediction for her. As she too since exceeded her own quota, who would now come in the firing line, Thresiamma?”

"The Panikkers, certainly - the two of them", said Sakunthala.

Thresiamma sat there for a while deep in thought. Mathootty observed that she had the aspects of a penitent. It was clear that she would never again trust Maryam.

The rooster crowed twice. It was past midnight. There was a nip in the air. They all got up and went to sleep. The first peacefully sleepless night for Mathootty and his wife in recent years.

*                   *                   *

Mathootty concluded:

“That was how, Thomas Kutty, that Thresiamma came to believe that we are all untouched by ‘our’ stars and their forebodings.  She was a new person now, and it was a new heaven and a new earth for her after that meeting with our friends Shyamal and his wife!”

K X M John

17/05/2012