We have a batchmate who used to be quite a mover and shaker when we were training at the civil services academy in Mussoorie, some 20 years ago. One of his much remembered qualities was the ability to read palms, but only of his female colleagues. He claimed that time in the academy was limited, and he preferred to use it well, doing the things he loved most. Holding on to the outstretched palm of a lady seeking her fortunes predicted must have been way up that list.
Those were heady days, made memorable by the thin mountain air and the thick cloud of perceived romance forever hanging over every activity — classroom sessions, games and cultural activities.
Someone was always being paired off with someone else and sometimes with two different persons in one afternoon — much to his or her chagrin. Our resident palmist was well liked and a good looking, easy-going person, even if the other young men envied his hobby-induced popularity with the ladies.
I do not remember much of what he predicted for me, but I think he knew his stuff. He looked at the solitary raclette around my wrist and said I would have one child. Many years later when I read a book on palmistry, I realised that he had been right — one raclette is supposed to signify one child. Moreover, events had proved him right.
I met him recently when he stopped by on a detour from a holiday in the hills. His wife and children accompanied him to coffee at our place. Two decades flitted past in 10 minutes. Almost the first thing I asked him was if he still read palms. He stared at me blankly. I asked his wife if he did so. She gave him a glare. I could see some discomfort and squirmed within, making clattering noises with the coffee tray.
The children were cute and stayed busy with story books and milk shakes. He talked shop. I talked shopping with his wife. She relaxed and chattered on with me. Soon it was time for their train and they left with nice smiles. My batchmate was a changed person after two decades of matrimony and fatherhood, not to mention the work pressures.
When I checked my mobile phone an hour later, I saw a text message : “Stop eating almonds, you remember too many inconvenient things.” I texted back, “What did I do? Your ladies-only palmistry is truly what I remember about you!”
He replied with a wry emoticon, “Well, we met Prachi in Mumbai and Renuka in Kolkata, and the first thing they wanted to know was if I read the palms of women in the office. My wife was mad at me for three weeks after that!”
I was tempted to text back: “My sympathies. Evidently you did not read hers before marrying her.” I thought twice and realised it sounded catty. Instead, I sent back a smiley and wrote, “It was great to see you all.”