A civil engineer by profession and a husband and dad to vouch for family status he moved to the Middle East with stars in his eyeballs in 2007. The next two years he lived life king-size in the extravagant emirate revelling in being dwarfed by the magnificent towers he helped erect.
Early 2009, when he failed to receive a cheque he called up his parents who consulted the family astrologer to find out where the leaf due to their son was stuck. It’s just a narrow bottleneck, it will squeeze through, they were assured and the engineer confidently ignored the pending cheque and instead signed three new projects.
Five months later, when two other payments refused to come his way, a colleague introduced him to a gemologist who suggested he wear a diamond ring not less than eight carat in weight on the little finger of his right hand for immediate positive effect. Without hesitation, he swiped his credit card.
By mid-2009, when one of the sub-contractors refused to answer his calls, he told a family friend who in turn suggested the wonder of numerology. No harm, no stakes involved, only a couple of letters in his name had to be re-arranged. The following week he sent out mails to all and sundry alerting them of the new phonetic stress in his name.
By the year-end when he had no balance to dip his fingers into, he sought the help of a Tarot reader, who assured to guide him efficiently. She explained the three cards that faced his silently-muttered wish were balanced. Man on a horse with a sword in his left hand raised meant the subject is rearing to go ahead. The second card of five of cups meant emotional reunions and the reverse bright yellow sun over a mountain top meant a bitter-sweet experience. But no worries. The three together says you will venture into new territories and land on your feet, the Tarot reader prophesied to his delight.
With hopes renewed, the engineer mortgaged his ancestral house in his home country and signed another project when an acquaintance insisted. Though his sixth sense hesitated to co-operate, he believed the famous Tarot reader’s third eye.
Learning about his property loan, a good-willed colleague suggested he re-do his current home to usher in good luck. In came a Fengshui expert who felt negative chi run inside her through her index finger that made contact with the doorbell switch outside his flat. Nothing can be done in a rented apartment, so alter positions of some things, discard others and buy new ones and re-paint every room in another colour, she advised. With credit cards’ limit brimming, he borrowed the required amount.
Shortly, when banks started haunting his relatives to know his whereabouts, he rushed to a money lender to see him through in the interim. But when the latter insisted on having his or the family’s passports as guarantee he pleaded another friend to lend him some cash and sent his wife and children to his parents in India.
As the wife prepared her bags, she said: “I saw a mynah on our window sill this morning. It’s not a good omen.” Now he became paranoid as beliefs seeped in through his partner too. Later when they set out to hail a cab to the airport, a cat crossed their path and the engineer took the lift back to his apartment, luggage and family in tow, only to rush into the immigration at the final call for boarding without a good-bye kiss even.
The numerologist, astrologer, gemologist; Tarot reader and fengshui expert have done their job. Wonder what the palmist, vastu specialist, signature analyst, face readers, parrots and tantrics have to advice.
Hope they help him keep his sanity!