Superstitious

The sun had retreated to its western abode and silver lined nimbus were allying up to unleash a quick summer torrent  Harish started the talk. He sighed ‘I had a narrow escape today, ..didn't let it cross my path." His hand was on his chest as he spoke.  Rajiv, Pintu and I exchanged glances away from his notice to agree  that this was going to be another one of Harish’s deliberations on urban legends.  He usually claimed that nature warns and foretells us about events of future through its chosen messengers and that there existed a long, non exhaustive list of such agents. He however confessed that so far the most common of his encounters had been with the neighbourhood cats (occasionally black), mynahs, crows and of course the common household gecko. He had a story to tell about each. One day a lizard fell on his right shoulder and he retrospectively declared it as the cause of his top performance in the surprise class test. Another day when he stood second in the class examination, he asserted that the decline in his rank was caused by the pathetic black cat which crossed his way with that of his when he was about to enter the college premises earlier that day. Never mind the fact that he had written the test long before any cat or other creature ventured to do anything around him. Again there was this pair of mynas which he saw perched, first thing, on his balcony one morning and concluded about the pleasant surprise the day ahead held for him. His belief was endorsed when later that day his father gave in to his long persistent demands to buy a new motorcycle. More often than not, as Harish once informed us, if the household lizard makes a cry or calls... "Wait, " Pintu interrupted "I don't even know how a lizard calls or cries" he exclaimed with utmost pity in his eyes. Harish was aghast. He shot back "Which world do you live in my friend ?" and continued "Mark me I'll show you." He shut his eyes for a moment to recall precisely the sound and went "Tchh Tchh"  with his eyes stretched open, tongue jammed hard into his incisors and teeth flashed fully. It was beyond hilarious, though nobody dared to laugh. He supported his theory by narrating that  how once in the middle of a sultry summer day when Harish guessed to everyone's disagreement that it would rain in a matter of hours, the gecko had gone "Tchh Tchh Tchh Tchh" and it had poured before dusk. Thus Harish had become incorrigible, when it came to being superstitious. His beliefs were unshakable. 

So while we were wondering what story he had to tell us today, he began "The poor cat had no idea that I knew its plan. So even before it began lifting its paw to start moving from one side of the road to the other, I  raced my motorcycle towards the farther opposite direction and gave it no chance to even come close to crossing my way." He spoke in between giggles "So how was the escape narrow ?" I sincerely inquired. He gave me a glance and then to each of us in turn and mumbled "Arre ... nothing bhai..when I was trying to outrun the cat, I almost ran over a pedestrian!" trying to downplay the latter part of the incident. "Of course. that makes sense. You see  - a full accident -if a cat crossed,  but - an 'almost accident' if the cat almost crossed, Right ?" Pintu teased. "True" replied Harish deliberately ignoring Pintu's attempt at sarcarsm. Pintu was the only one among us who was unabashedly cynical about Harish's superstitions. However it had taken several disturbing arguments between the two, for Harish to reconcile to the fact that Pintu was too ignorant for having his eyes opened to the secret communications of nature with humans, the ones which he so clearly fathomed. Pintu continued "Its a good thing that you didn't run over the poor pedestrian. Your lawyer then would have had one tough case to defend and bring the real culprit to book"  Without allowing Harish to respond to such a remark, I interjected "My uncle also believes in these things. He can swear by his belief in the accuracy of these...what you call."signs". I tried to sound as neutral as possible as Pintu was too smart to not detect my disguised attempt at diplomacy. He caught that anyway and immediately snarled "Do You believe in these "signals"?  I had to be truthful. I had given, on earlier occasions, much information about my views on these superstitious rubbish. My friends remembered those for sure. I was about to speak but there was a sudden ruckus at our far left and our heads turned together towards the source of it. It was already dark and we could not properly see what was happening. But from the appalling level of sanctity in their communication, we made out that friends were arguing. It could be discerned from their words that they were squabbling over the question as to who is the most important player in the Indian cricket team. What seemed likely to have started as a stimulating debate had now turned into a heated argument with the gang divided into two prominent groups with opposing views. A few among them appeared to care the least about the riveting deliberations and continued to dwell on more life altering thoughts as they passed on cigarette in turns. I borrowed the issue and introduced it into our gathering and Harish exclaimed that for him it was Sachin, always. A lizard went "Tchh Tchh Tchh Tchh" nearby and Harish shot up his right hand and blurted "See its true !" Pintu yelled "Damn the lizard". No one spoke thereafter about any cats or lizards or shooting stars.

The velvet evening began melting into a somber night. I glanced at my digital watch which read "19.30". I announced the time. Without having been commanded or instructed, we rose up to leave. We had subjected ourselves to that discipline since the first day we had made merry there. We walked up to our motorcycles parked a short walk away and started on our way back. We lived in the same colony roughly six to seven kilometres away from the spot where we hung out every day. We rode through the evening traffic. It was summer and small shop owners were having buckets of water thrown at their entrance to create the much absent cooling effect. More affluent shops were all shut behind transparent glass panes where the air conditioner had been long turned on. "Kabadiwalas' had all kinds of metal junk clustered around them and continued fanning their pot bellies fuming over the unbearable humidity. We too were soaked in sweat but when our ride embarked on the Ring Road alongside the Mahanadi, the cool easterly breeze blew through every pore of our bodies and soon the heat was behind us. There were three of us. Pintu and I rode on my bike and Harish was on his. Pintu murmured something attempting to begin a conversation but even before he could utter a syllable, Harish almost stood on his bike's accelerator and sped away as if for his life. Before Pintu or me could gather the cause of his behaviour we saw his silhouette getting smaller by the second. We noticed that for no visible reason he was steering his vehicle to his right when there was not a soul occupying the left side of the road and finally when he ran out of space we watched him bump his motorbike hard into the road divider.

Soon there was a crowd around him. Not bothering to park my vehicle at an appropriate spot or to even put it on its stand Pintu and I broke through the gathering. Fortunately Harish looked all right. I went down on my knees and started scanning for any fatal wound. Except a bleeding tear on his right ankle I found none. I sought the help of   people around us for lifting him up. As I was slowly letting his body weight onto my hands and lifted his left hand over my head to let it rest on my left shoulder, I caught Harish straining his eyes on something. I looked at his eyes and estimated the point of his vision. It appeared to be at quite some distance from us. After a few tries I finally noticed. A black cat, coated by its maker with glossy fur, with its eyes partially shining from the reflection of the numerous headlamps, stood on the left footpath adjoining the road. He had his right paw lifted, which seemed to have been in that position for a while by now. Its eyes seemed to be eternally locked with those of Harish in a most mystical exchange of thoughts. When the flow of thoughts ended, it used the lifted paw to rub its nose, looked to its right and with the laidbackness of a Nawab crossed the road and passed near Harish's injured leg and blended into the dark behind us in seconds. In a moment, it struck me like an ant bite and the flashback of events ran in my head, only this time I saw what I had missed in realtime. Harish must have seen the cat trying to cross the road as Pintu began to speak to him. This must have led to a characteristic adrenaline rush within Harish, which by the way was normal for him under such circumstances and then ofcourse Harish did what he always did, that is, overtake the unsuspecting cat before it crossed his way.

We left Harish's bike in the care of a friendly tea stall owner. It was decided without any discussion that I would drive and Harish would be sandwiched between me and Pintu behind him.  Not a whisper was made by any of us on the way to the local dispensary. Pintu began humming some idyllic folk song of his native tribal village up in the mountains. No cat or lizard dared to cross path with ours.

Inside the dispensary as the nurse was stitching Harish up, I decided to break my silence. I pleaded making an effort to depict an urgency "Buddy,we have been dealing with your irrational balderdash since we were in the seventh standard. What good is a belief if it causes you such utterly unnecessary pain."  and I went on and on against his theories of interaction between cats, mynahs, lizards and him, trying desperately to convince him into forsaking his superstitions. Pintu walked upto Harish and squeezed his right shoulder in muted support of my plea. After a unusual length of silence, Harish exclaimed "If you honestly ask me, considering the shocking unfolding of today's events; I cannot deny that my beliefs have perhaps been belied." He raised his hands to test the extent of injury suffered by his shoulders. He put them back on his lap at the first taste of pain, and continued, looking blankly at the discolored wall opposite to him "I think I understand the secret message which nature has tried to convey today." He paused. I looked into his eyes and probed, raising my eyebrows, "Which is.....?"  inviting Harish to complete my statement. Waiting for a couple of seconds, he exclaimed, "..well...ummm.. .. that I should ignore cats & lizards."  A lizard went "Tchh Tchh Tchh Tchh" and we instantly raised our heads to the humming tubelight above our heads. There it was, pasted to the lime paint, its eyes seemed perplexed at the unprecedented human attention it had drawn by its cry. We broke into a fit of laughter, including Harish who laughed too, holding his aching shoulder.The nurse came running inside the cabin, wondering what had happened, as we roared together in laughter, again. The lizard slithered away behind the tube clamoring for a more inconspicuous retreat.

("The Superstitious" is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person (alive or dead), place or incident etc. if any, is only coincidental.)