An Unfortunate Birth Star
‘Moola nakshatram, moola nakshatram,’ grumbled the astrologer. ‘What do you expect me to do with this horoscope? A girl with this birth star is a curse, I tell you. The moment she enters her husband’s house, her father-in-law, luckless man, will die.’
‘But is there no way out?’ asked the mother beseechingly. ‘The girl is nearly twenty-one. How long can I keep her in the house? Her father has also retired. We want to settle her before we close our eyes.’
‘So what do you expect me to do?’ rasped the astrologer. ‘Even before I open my mouth, the boy’s people say, ‘Ramaswamy’s daughter? Moola nakshatram? Show us something else.’ I have fixed so many marriages, but your daughter’s….’
‘Is there no fatherless boy you can find?’ the mother asked hesitatingly. ‘Somebody it won’t affect, then maybe….’
‘What! exploded the astrologer, ‘So now you want a boy of a decent family, more than twenty-seven, well qualified, no vices, with a good job and with no father! I know the girl is good looking but this is too much. Really too much!’
The parents sat without speaking, while the astrologer stuffed a fresh lot of betel into his mouth. ‘Alright, alright,’ he muttered thickly, ‘I will see what I can do. But I can’t promise anything.’ He heaved himself up. ‘Anyway, I’m going to be very busy the next few days. My son is coming this evening.’
‘Your son?’ the father asked with polite indifference.
‘My eldest.’ The astrologer hobbled out into the courtyard and expertly spat out red betel juice. ‘You won’t have seen him. He has been in Madras all these years.’
‘Studying?’ the mother asked.
The astrologer laughed. ‘Studies? Studies he finished long ago. Passed out from IIT. Engineer. He has got a very good job also.’
The mother leaned forward eagerly. ‘Married?’ she asked.
The astrologer laughed again. ‘No,’ he said. ‘That is why I am so busy. So many proposals are coming. It takes time to select the best. The boy has been working for nearly four years. If he had been with me, I would have fixed his marriage long ago. But he has been staying with my wife’s cousin brother.’
‘Your wife’s cousin?’ the mother asked curiously.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ answered the astrologer. ‘He is one of the richest lawyers in Madras now. Still unmarried.’ The astrologer spat again. ‘Poor man! By the time he got his six sisters married, he was forty-five. Anyway,’ the astrologer was philosophical about it, ‘it was lucky for my son. His education was taken care of and I don’t have to take care of my two daughters also. I am quite sure my wife’s cousin will provide something….’
That evening, when the father returned from his evening walk, the mother said, ‘Did you know that Jyotishar maama’s own wedding was fixed in a great hurry. A lot of money was given also. They say the boy is tall and fair, not at all like Jyotishar maama.’
The next day, the mother began preparations. She made an elaborate payasam and after the father had gone for his morning walk, she called her daughter. ‘Now Ratna, do just as I tell you. Wear your red silk sari, yes, yes, the one I got you for last Deepavali, wear it nicely and then take this payasam to Jyotishar maama’s house. Go now. But listen, bring back the vessel. Even if it takes a little time.’
Later in the morning, the mother told her husband. ‘That boy of Jyotishar maama is really nice. He escorted Ratna back home today. I had sent her to their place, you know, with some payasam. After all it is Friday and Jyotishar maama has done so much for us.’
Three days later, the mother said, ‘I think you should go and have a talk with Jyotishar maama. The boy has been coming here every day. It seems he was talking openly to Ratna in the temple also. What will people say!’
The astrologer had a lot to say. He spluttered while saying it, his red spittle flying out in all directions. ‘You set the girl in his way deliberately. I know it. You think I will agree to this match? Listen, I will never agree. Never. Do you understand? You want me to sign my death warrant?’
A week later, the astrologer arrived at the parent’s house, looking harassed. ‘He won’t listen,’ he wailed. ‘My son won’t listen to me. He insists on marrying your daughter. He says all this nakshatram business is superstition, nonsense. Can’t you talk to him? I will give you anything you ask. I will look for another boy. In fact, I have an excellent horoscope right here … see, good family, own business….’
After he had left, the mother said, ‘You may as well start getting things ready, before the boy changes his mind. I have heard his Madras relative has said he won’t finance the family anymore if they don’t agree to this marriage.’
At the wedding, the astrologer had regained some of his form. ‘I couldn’t say no to my son,’ he said, sitting comfortably back after a massive lunch, the plate of betel leaves next to him. ‘After all I have nothing against the girl. Look how much her father has given her. So I agreed. I did some prayashchittam. That is what is recommended in cases like this. What is the use of being an astrologer if I can’t find a solution to something like a moola nakshatram? Have you eaten? Eat well, eat well, the girl’s father has been very generous.’
A month after the wedding, the astrologer was back to normal. He had been consulting other astrologers about his own horoscope and the investigations seemed to have heartened him. In fact, he was with the jeweller when the telegram arrived. The message was from Madras to say that his wife’s wealthy cousin had suddenly died of a heart attack.