Fictional Short Story — Message from the Universe
Message from the Universe — “To be or not to be?” — Shakespeare questioned humanity. Had his mother taken him to a soothsayer, he’d be told — “It’s all in the stars”; and we wouldn’t have one of the greatest lines in English literature.
Back when carrier pigeons were in fashion; soothsayers were a big deal. They had the answers to life. Our ancestors also wanted to know the answer to the question- “What is life?”. We Google it, they Soothsayer’d it. Even though the carrier pigeons went out of trend, the soothsayers remained. “What is decided by whom?” any rational mind wonders, be it Einstein or the average voter; “Your life, by the stars” the soothsayer retorts.
Shakespeare was lucky. I am not. My trip to the soothsayer was quite unsoothing. The journey to his small, dilapidated home(which according to my mother and other folklore is the symbol of “humility”) was painstaking at best. The bright sun blazed over the rickety shack — rays creeping in through the holes in the ceiling, illuminating the interiors.
I entered the home, walked past crystals, not the hippie kind, through smoke, not the hippie kind, into more smoke, the hippie kind. I greeted the soothsayer as he swiftly, or so he thought, kept aside the chillum and returned my greeting in a distant, disoriented voice.
The soothsayer: saffron-clad; beads along the neck and arms, some stuck in his beard like a forgotten chip; an anorexic body with more bones than a vulture’s dream; disheveled long white hair,a shaggy white beard and an unkempt face. Attune with the symbology required to be a ‘Godly’ man, an anklet was wrapped around his frail leg(which functioned like a cow’s bell), announcing the arrival of ‘Godliness’.
He is as old as the stars - which is certainly why he can “communicate” with them. This man, who hasn’t heard of a trimmer, a toothbrush, a comb or footwear is going to tell me what to be and what not to be. This man, who reeks of marijuana, is going to look into the “magic crystal” and the multiple lines that make up the palm and make sense out of it, for the betterment of my life. There’s no possible way this could be wrong. After all, it’s written in the stars.
“I see great potential in you, but you’re wasting it” he began in his characteristic droopy voice, stressing each syllable for no reason whatsoever, “your friends are a bad influence on you.” My mother telepathically told me ‘I-told-you-so!’. Great! This again!
Grabbing my hand in his, he stared at it intently, his wrinkled face twisting, twitching, decrypting. “You shall find true love…”, my ears perked, “…thrice.” What? True love, thrice? That’s awesome.But, how does this work? “You must choose one” he added .“You will have a long life…”, Yes! Long life! I like! “…but I can’t see the money line” he spoke with certainty. WHY ME?! What did I do to deserve this? Who wants a long life without money? This sucks. Maybe it’s because I find true love thrice, and love, like a kidney on the black market, is costly.
“Your stars aren’t in alignment. This is a rough time for you financially.” Really?! The lack of the money line didn’t give that away? Stop rubbing it in my face. “I can hear the stars tell me you’ve bad luck. They see what you do, and they complain that you don’t talk to them” What? Who even talks to stars? How does one talk to the stars? “Don’t worry…” he declared triumphantly, “…I know what you need to do. To become rich, give up meat for a month; for power, sleep with your bed in another room; and for love, never wear underwear on Tuesdays.” he ordered, as commanded by the stars. Nope! Nope! And, Nope! My mind was hell bent on not giving up meat, my room or my underwear on any day of the week.
While planning my life for me, he shooed me away, wishing to talk to my mother alone. Brilliant! Now there are two people planning my life for me. I was not comfortable with that idea. You get one chance to live, shouldn’t you be the one doing the planning? Touring his ‘larger-than-life’ cottage, I kept bumping into the furniture; almost bringing it down with my little toe. Not looking for anything in particular, my eyes fell on some leaves on a paper. Then they lit up.
After my preparations were complete, I hiked to a secluded spot around the ‘humble’ housing. Within 10 minutes I returned, in an ‘elevated state of mind’. By now, the soothsayer and my mother had completed planning my life for me. “So here’s what we decided is best for you…” they both began as my mind slowly began to fade. I stopped listening before I really started. My head was in it’s own world. Bright spots of lights began floating about the room. Then they flew, forming a gorgeous pattern inspired by the golden ratio. After a stunning display for what seemed an hour, they merged into a spirit bomb for the grand finale. The explosion shaped into the universe. “We are the stars, we need to talk.” The what now! WHAT! I was talking to the stars. I had achieved a new level of sorcery. I was one step closer to becoming an astrologer, a career alternative I never knew I had.
“Listen closely, carefully, clearly;
you’ve been lied to miserably.
The soothsayer is a quack,
often compared to the ass of a Jack.”
Eat meat when you want, sleep where you wish and please wear underwear,
or we swear! We’ll cut off your pair.”
(They threatened in rhythmic unison bearing a heavy Godly voice)
“Be it love, life or career,
If you try, you will persevere.
Have integrity and honesty,
Treat everyone with equality.
Be smart. Be soft. Be sophisticated.
If not, life will be complicated.
Be firm. Be gentle. Be just.
Then in you, people will trust.
No matter how rich;
Don’t harm, don’t hurt, don’t be an itch.
Remember! Karma’s a bitch.”
On that melodic note, they started fizzing out till nothing but a flicker remained, until even that disappeared. “… and that’s what we’ve decided you need to do” the soothsayer and my mother concluded, unaware their advice passed on deaf ears. While leaving I found out that my mother had scheduled another appointment with the soothsayer, for the next week. I nodded in agreement, clueless about what I was agreeing to do. I had spoken to the stars; I was equipped with the information needed to live life. Nothing could stop me. I was a man with no plan, ready to face the world; blessed by the stars.
I moved out that weekend.
