I recently suggested to a friend who freelances to write about the fortunetellers in Beijing. But she said that it is not a science, and she should not be propagating such falsehoods. That's true, but maybe I didn't communicate properly what I meant, which was to expose the field for what it is. The writer Manto, who is symbolic of the undivided India of our dreams, once said: "If you find my stories dirty, the society you are living in is dirty".

Maybe there are greater ills in society, though, than someone minting money by "predicting "what lies ahead of you in your career or love life. Unless one takes fortunetellers too seriously, they can actually be quite entertaining. Well, I should know, because I come from a country where many of us check our horoscope more than the weather forecast before stepping out. If it warns of a possible accident that day, we still venture out, but are extra careful. It's always good to be forewarned, isn't it? They don't offer astrology as a course in some Indian universities for nothing.

When I was a senior in primary school, one of my classmates checked my palm and told me I'd die in an air crash. I cried for a whole day, and my parents had a tough time convincing me that palm-reading is not a science I should believe in. And yet, when I once showed my dad how my horoscope predicted I would meet with an accident that day, he was worried every time I stepped outside.

Over a period of time, I have concluded that most fortunetellers are actually good observers. Like Sherlock Holmes, they can tell that you arrived by train or cab and which side of the vehicle you were seated just by seeing which side of your hair parting seems ruffled. That is why, whenever I looked glum, fortunetellers — and I have met many in India, not by design but by accident — told me my future was dark. Once, on the way to the top of a hill I was climbing, I showed my palm to a meditating hermit, and remembered to look back deeply into his probing eyes. "Strive and you shall find whatever you aspire for," he said looking up from my palm.

So I wasn't much enthused when a friend mentioned that a fortuneteller in Beijing had regaled him with a set of predictions. I took down his address and forwarded it to another friend. It was only when this second friend got back, all excited, to say the guy had recounted to her things she had never shared with anyone, that I thought this guy might be worth a visit. After ensuring no facet of my life was available on any social networking site for him to pre-check and surprise me, I arrived at his place near the Lama Temple one fine winter morning.

He was already predicting the future of two people, so I had to wait. Sometime later, it was my turn. I was made to toss some coins, looking at the pattern of which he made some notes in Chinese. After some observation he gave his verdict. That the past three years have been tough; I promise I'd have never noticed, had he not told me. That the future looks promising, of course I'd want that. And that I'd have five kids. When I told him I had one son, he said there's time enough for just two more; how flexible. Considering what I paid for these pearls of wisdom, I know one thing for sure. Maybe I should've considered astrology as a career option.

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