An Astrologer's Day by R. K Narayan, Text of An Astrologer's Day, Bengali Meaning of An Astrologer's Day, pkgway, Summary of An Astrologer's Day, For Class XI
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An Astrologer's Day by R. K Narayan, Text of An Astrologer's Day, Bengali Meaning of An Astrologer's Day, pkgway, Summary of An Astrologer's Day, An Astrologer's Day by R. K Narayan For Class XI
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AN ASTROLOGER'S DAY
By R. K Narayan
Punctually at midday he opened his bag and spread out his professional equipment, which consisted of a dozen cowrie shells, a square piece of cloth with obscure mystic charts on it, a notebook, and a bundle of palmyra writing. His forehead was resplendent with sacred ash and vermilion, and his eyes sparkled with a sharp, abnormal gleam which was really an outcome of a continual searching look for customers, but which his simple clients took to be a prophetic light and felt comforted.
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The power of his eyes was considerably enhanced by their positionâplaced as they were between the painted forehead and the dark whiskers which streamed down his cheeks: even a half-witâs eyes would sparkle in such a setting. To crown the effect he wound a saffron-colored turban around his head. This color scheme never failed. People were attracted to him as bees are attracted to cosmos or dahlia stalks. He sat under the boughs of a spreading tamarind tree which flanked a path running through the town hall park. It was a remarkable place in many ways: a surging crowd was always moving up and down this narrow road morning till night.
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A variety of trades and occupations was represented all along its way: medicine sellers, sellers of stolen hardware and junk, magicians, and, above all, an auctioneer of cheap cloth, who created enough din all day to attract the whole town.
āĻŦāĻŋāĻāĻŋāĻ¨ā§āĻ¨ āĻĒā§āĻ°āĻāĻžāĻ° āĻŦā§āĻ¯āĻžāĻŦāĻ¸āĻžā§āĻŋāĻ āĻāĻ°ā§āĻŽ āĻ āĻŦāĻŋāĻāĻŋāĻ¨ā§āĻ¨ āĻĒā§āĻļāĻžāĻ° āĻŽāĻžāĻ¨ā§āĻˇā§āĻ° āĻāĻĒāĻ¸ā§āĻĨāĻŋāĻ¤āĻŋ āĻĒā§āĻ°ā§ āĻ°āĻžāĻ¸ā§āĻ¤āĻž āĻā§ā§ā§ āĻ˛āĻā§āĻˇ āĻāĻ°āĻž āĻ¯ā§āĻ¤āĨ¤ āĻāĻˇā§āĻ§ āĻŦāĻŋāĻā§āĻ°ā§āĻ¤āĻž, āĻā§āĻ°āĻžāĻ
Next to him in vociferousness came a vendor of fried groundnut, who gave his ware a fancy name each day, calling it
Delicacy,â and so on and so forth, and people flocked to him. A considerable portion of this crowd dallied before the astrologer too. The astrologer transacted his business by the light of a flare which crackled and smoked up above the groundnut heap nearby. Half the enchantment of the place was due to the fact that it did not have the benefit of municipal lighting. The place was lit up by shop lights. One or two had hissing gaslights, some had naked flares stuck on poles, some were lit up by old cycle lamps, and one or two, like the astrologerâs, managed without lights of their own. It was a bewildering crisscross of light rays and moving shadows. This suited the astrologer very well, for the simple reason that he had not in the least intended to be an astrologer when he began life; and he knew no more of what was going to happen to others than he knew what was going to happen to himself next minute. He was as much a stranger to the stars as were his innocent customers.
The nuts vendor blew out his flare and rose to go home. This was a signal for the astrologer to bundle up too, since it left him in darkness except for a little shaft of green light which strayed in from somewhere and touched the ground before him. He picked up his cowrie shells and paraphernalia and was putting them back into his bag when the green shaft of light was blotted out; he looked up and saw a man standing before him. He sensed a possible client and said, âYou look so careworn. It will do you good to sit down for a while and chat with me.â The other grumbled some reply vaguely. The astrologer pressed his invitation; whereupon the other thrust his palm under his nose, saying, âYou call yourself an astrologer?â The astrologer felt challenged and said, tilting the otherâs palm towards the green shaft of light, âYours is a nature ...â âOh, stop that,â the other said. âTell me something worthwhile....â
Our friend felt piqued. âI charge only three paise per question, and what you get ought to be good enough for your money....â At this the other withdrew his arm, took out an anna, and flung it out to him, saying, âI have some questions to ask. If I prove you are bluffing, you must return that anna to me with interest.â
âIf you find my answers satisfactory, will you give me five rupees?â
âNo.â
âOr will you give me eight annas?â
âAll right, provided you give me twice as much if you are wrong,â said the stranger. This pact was accepted after a little further argument. The astrologer sent up a prayer to heaven as the other lit a cheroot. The astrologer caught a glimpse of his face by the match light. There was a pause as cars hooted on the road, jutka drivers swore at their horses, and the babble of the crowd agitated the semidarkness of the park. The other sat down, sucking his cheroot, puffing out, sat there ruthlessly. The astrologer felt very uncomfortable. âHere, take your anna back. I am not used to such challenges. It is late for me today....â He made preparations to bundle up. The other held his wrist and said, âYou canât get out of it now. You dragged me in while I was passing.â The astrologer shivered in his grip; and his voice shook and became faint. âLeave me today. I will speak to you tomorrow.â The other thrust his palm in his face and said, âChallenge is challenge. Go on.â The astrologer proceeded with his throat drying up, âThere is a woman ...â âStop,â said the other âI donât want all that. Shall I succeed in my present search or not? Answer this and go. Otherwise I will not let you go till you disgorge all your coins.â The astrologer muttered a few incantations and replied, âAll right. I will speak. But will you give me a rupee if what I say is convincing? Otherwise I will not open my mouth, and you may do what you like.â After a good deal of haggling the other agreed.
âAh, tell me more.â
âA knife has passed through you once?â said the astrologer.
âGood fellow!â He bared his chest to show the scar. âWhat else?â
âAnd then you were pushed into a well nearby in the field. You were left for dead.â âI should have been dead if some passerby had not chanced to peep into the well,â exclaimed the other, overwhelmed by enthusiasm. âWhen shall I get at him?â he asked, clenching his fist. âIn the next world,â answered the astrologer. âHe died four months ago in a far-off town. You will never see any more of him.â The other groaned on hearing it. The astrologer proceeded:
âGuru Nayakââ
âYou know my name!â the other said, taken aback.
âAs I know all other things. Guru Nayak, listen carefully to what I have to say. Your village is two daysâ journey due north of this town. Take the next train and be gone. I see once again great danger to your life if you go from home.â He took out a pinch of sacred ash and held it to him. âRub it on your forehead and go home. Never travel southward again, and you will live to be a hundred.â
âWhy should I leave home again?â the other said reflectively. âI was only going away now and then to look for him and to choke out his life if I met him.â He shook his head regretfully. âHe has escaped my hands. I hope at least he died as he deserved.â âYes,â said the astrologer. âHe was crushed under a lorry.â The other looked gratified to hear it. The place was deserted by the time the astrologer picked up his articles and put them into his bag. The green shaft was also gone, leaving the place in darkness and silence. The stranger had gone off into the night, after giving the astrologer a handful of coins. It was nearly midnight when the astrologer reached home. His wife was waiting for him at the door and demanded an explanation. He flung the coins at her and said, âCount them. One man gave all that.â
âTwelve and a half annas,â she said, counting. She was overjoyed. âI can buy some jaggery and coconut tomorrow. The child has been asking for sweets for so many days now. I will prepare some nice stuff for her.â âThe swine has cheated me! He promised me a rupee,â said the astrologer. She looked up at him. âYou look worried. What is wrong?â
âNothing.â
After dinner, sitting on the pyol , he told her, âDo you know a great load is gone from me today? I thought I had the blood of a man on my hands all these years. That was the reason why I ran away from home, settled here, and married you. He is alive.â She gasped. âYou tried to kill!â âYes, in our village, when I was a silly youngster. We drank, gambled, and quarreled badly one dayâwhy think of it now? Time to sleep,â he said, yawning, and stretched himself on the pyol.
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