Spooking your way into believing

Pre-gaming is a really good idea. You build up a nice buzz before hitting the pubs. The world goes down just a wee bit easier on you. So we sit with our rum and coke and talk about the Serpent and his fiancee. He had a turbulent year and was taking some momentous decisions. Its these testing times when you seek guidance … not always of the rational kind. And so we go to QBA’s.

There are bars with good food, bars with good music and bars with a good crowd. QBA is a bar with a view. A view of Connaught Place, urban Delhi set in colonial times. There are tall white pillars, and old renovated buildings, housing multinationals. The buildings are tall enough to be imposing, but short enough to offer you an expansive view of glittering lights in the foggy winter night from the terrace of QBA. We order a round of rum and coke and a tandoori platter. And that’s when Riches points out the lady. She sat behind a table like a plump imposing Buddha, with a look of supreme confidence that exudes power. A look, that I can only assume comes from years of experience with strong human beings, made weak with blows dealt out by fate, who come to her and handover the reins of their lives. The lady, with a table full of cards in front of her and an ornate little box, was a Tarot reader.

The Serpent is getting frisky, impatient for the comfort of sketchy answers and promises of a benevolent future. So we wait for Her to be free and plant ourselves around the table. My mind wistfully thinks of the half eaten platter with succulent delicacies that will only give us a cold welcome when we get back. But I am jerked back to the present when She asks us to read the rules posted on a board with a wave of her hand. The rules say to ask specific questions with a yes/no answer. Is it not against the very nature of fortune-tellers to be specific instead of vague ? But I do not have time to ponder as the Serpent volunteers for the first question. I sit on the side from where I have a good view of all our faces and the cards on the table. He starts pulling out the cards, with his left hand, and places them face downwards on the table. A myriad collection of pictures flashes past me. Was that the Pantheon ? That was definitely labeled Queen. Why do the cards remind me of paintings of medieval Europe ? She raises her hand and the Serpent stops. Her answer evokes a wry smile. She says there is going to be a long wait for his burden to become light. He shoots another question and the cycle begins again. Flowers, animals and maidens pile up on the table. And as before, it all suddenly stops with her gesture. A tense moment of nervous anticipation and this time the answer casts a shadow over his career aspersions. Its human to yearn for a happy ending. So the Serpent pursues with more Questions and the answers seem to totter from firm No’s to Maybe’s. The Serpent decides to call it a day and Riches takes his place. He is still agitated with the answers and the alcohol was not helping. The grandiose lady gently suggests that she is good with questions about what other people are thinking. And so Riches obliges her. The answer is very apparent and the Lady doesn’t disappoint. Riches has done this before, many a times. And so she quickly gives up the seat … and I take it.

I sit down and look at her face. It has an effortless smile and a gentle encouragement to begin. I start handing her cards – methodically going through the straight line she has laid out her cards in.  She answers my question with a yes, but instead of continuing  says, “You are not good with politics and that will affect your career.” ! I hear the tinkle of cutlery and the gentle inquiries of the waiters. Through the haze of alcohol and the single candle burning on the table I try to explain away the fact that she just spelt out something that was on my mind a lot lately but was absolutely unrelated to the question. Was this how Holmes affected Watson ? But there is not even a veneer of logic here. Maybe more like how the fakir affected Tintin. She smiles and asks if I have any more Questions. I say no. She volunteers the information that she did a MBA in Boston … majoring in “Divine Projections”. I get the feeling that she is enjoying the reaction she has produced in a skeptic. We wrap up our session. The little box swallows our crisp notes.

We go back to our table. The candles flicker and the shadows dance. Riches and the Serpent are conversing. Her gentle laughter floats in and a few stray words make it inside my ears. ‘Aura’, ‘not always true’, ‘good business’. But I have only one word – Spooky. And yes, I am still a skeptic.