Made in Heaven

Nit Wit lives in a tough neighborhood. It is so tough people have given up on terrestrial hopes. They have to hang on to the designs of the stars above.

They do not start tasks or journeys when the gods frown gloomily in the inauspicious one and a half hours each day. At a very young age, kids are taught the mnemonics to calculate those hours.

‘Mother Saw Father Wearing The Turban Successfully,’ they chant and quickly compute – Monday 7:30-9:00, Saturday 9:00-10:30...

Teachers quiz them, ‘When is it on Tuesday?’

The kids are quick with the reasoning and ready with that life-saving detail, ‘Tuesday? Turban! Successfully, Sunday, is the last, 4:30-6:00. Turban is right before Successfully, and so, on Tuesday it is from 3:00-4:30 in the afternoon.’

Kids are also taught how to read the moon. They learn that life depends on the day they spot the crescent after the new moon. They memorize the chant to remember the significance of spotting the crescent on Sunday to Saturday respectively,

‘Sugam (wellness), jalam (idiocy), mrithi (death), bhayam (fear), vitham (money), kandharam (marital bliss), aapthi (sadness)…. sugam, jalam, mrithi, bhayam, vitham, kandharam, aapthi….’ They repeat that till that utterance is as familiar as Ma or Pa.

Naturally, people there do not look up at the sky on Tuesdays, fearing the crescent’s signal of mrithi (death). And, of course, they refuse to look down on Thursdays, hating to miss a chance for vitham (financial gains). Newly-weds extend that period of crescent-gazing to Friday too, still optimistic that kandharam (marital bliss) is in their stellar path.

There are rules to decide good and bad days for every type of activity. It is not good for a host to receive a guest on Mondays and Wednesdays, though it is good for the guest to visit. On Saturdays, the visit is fine for the host but bad for the guest. On those days, people avoid visits to enquire about anything good, like pregnancy and promotion, and anything bad, like death and sickness. Then, on Tuesdays and Fridays, guests are not supposed to leave a host’s house. On Tuesdays and Fridays, money transactions are also avoided because the stars assure a rapid change in fortune. Lenders will become creditors before the day is over if they tempt fate. Even creditors refuse to accept any windfall on those two days, preferring to remain in the uncertain misery of debt rather than incur the certain wrath of the stars.

Nit Wit, like the others, learned the chants and followed the rules of his neighborhood religiously. He used to be known by his full name then – Nithyananda Withananda (meaning: always with joy or god, doubly emphasized). During the last IT boom, his firm sent him to the West for six months on an offshore posting. There, for the benefit of his fair colleagues who had difficulty with names extending beyond monosyllables, he became Nit Wit. He continued with that shorter version even after returning to these shores which he did for his own benefit. He realized that that name and his foreign trip had made him a very eligible bachelor. He and his folks searched far and wide in that neighborhood and chose the best girl. There was only one hurdle left to cross.  

He and his fiancée had to get the blessing and, more importantly, the fitness certificate with ‘Made in Heaven’ from the Wise Chief of the neighborhood, the astrologer. It took two weeks to get an appointment with that very important person. On the first appointment, the astrologer studied their birth charts and fears. He prescribed general cures and rituals for common ills and mismatches. He took his fees and additional charges for goodwill. They got their fitness certificate after half a dozen visits and payments. The families were happy with their score of ninety per cent. The astrologer had ticked the nine boxes for health, good social life, good children, prosperity, sexual compatibility, prosperous children, inseparable temperament, avoiding death and avoiding evil effects of marriage (whatever that might be). He had not ticked the box for quality of life. But he suggested ways and rituals to correct that aberration and offered to perform the pujas himself. He gave the young couple his blessings after the final payment of fees plus a large bonus.

Nit Wit got married. As expected, the quality of their life was not good. His parents went back to the astrologer. When that one box started affecting health, social life and delivery of children, his wife’s parents also went to the great, busy man. Finally, when sexual compatibility and prosperity also got affected, his wife went to the astrologer.

She came back with a piece of paper. It had four lines. Though written in English, the words sounded like Sanskrit.

‘What does it mean?’ Nit Wit asked his wife.

‘I do not know. He said it will help us have kids,’ she replied. ‘We have to chant it twice…before and after…’

‘Before and after sex…?’ he asked seriously, wondering if they would be able to perform with such foreplay.

‘Oh no…’ she blushed. ‘Morning and night… before breakfast and after dinner, I think…’

‘Ah…’

So, they tried that too. But it had adverse side-effects. Their inseparable temperament was compromised and finally, struggling with mounting frustration and antagonistic irreconcilable incompatibility, even death or murder seemed possible. Nit Wit lost his job and more than half his wealth in the divorce that followed.

After that case was over Ni Wit visited an old acquaintance Sandeep, known in the ‘quotation’ business under the moniker ‘Hurricane’ Sandy and reputed to be as devastating and brutal. Nit Wit asked for a ‘quote’ on the astrologer.

‘What exactly do you want?’ the anti-social asked Nit Wit.

‘Break his legs,’ Nit Wit replied.

‘Ok,’ the rowdy stated a price. Nit Wit thought for a long while. The hoodlum tried a better ‘quote’, ‘We are giving great offers this season – take one, get one free. So, hands are included in the deal.’ Nit Wit still seemed unsure. ‘This recession has been hurting us a lot,’ the poor ruffian explained, ‘ok, here’s the final deal – an extra bonus added. We will bash his face, too.’

Nit Wit nodded and paid the advance to seal the contract. Hurricane Sandy took a week to complete his task. He is a perfectionist.

Two weeks later, the astrologer returned home from the hospital. He was still bed-ridden and well-plastered from head to toe. Nit Wit paid a visit to enquire about the astrologer’s health. He chose an inauspicious Monday for that visit.

He gave the astrologer the old piece of paper and said softly, ‘You should recite these four lines of Sanskrit throughout the day. If not, these attacks will happen again. Your Saturn crossed Pluto or whatever, you know.’

Nit Wit has joined the anti-social ranks. His attacks are not physical. He visits people on inauspicious days, at inauspicious hours too, darkening their days ahead, leaving them trembling with fear about impending gloom and doom. He tricks people to look at the crescent on those days when death or sadness is assured.

In that tough neighborhood, people now fear Nit Wit the most.