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What the stars foretell

Why are so many of us obssessed with astrological predictions?

I have immense love for the sun, moon and the stars; in fact, for all things celestial. If I hadn’t been doing any of the sundry things that I am presently doing, I would probably have been an astronomer or an astrologer, working at either end of the stellar spectrum. I became neither, because the former was too ambitious to attain, given my meager intellect, and the latter was too obscure for my disbelieving nature.

I don’t think I was the suspecting kind about planetary voices and whisperings from ‘time immemorial.’ I remember younger times when I was hooked to the bestselling book “Linda Goodman’s Sun Signs” and later, its country cousins, especially the one on Love Signs. I was taken in by the lucid description of zodiac based human characteristics and devoured it like an amateur psychologist exploring personal traits of those I came across. I read, rummaged around people and returned to research further. Sometimes, it led me to a journey of ‘self discovery,’ learning what elements I was made of, what my persona was like, and how I would behave in typical circumstances. Thinking about it now, I am not sure if I was ‘learning’ about myself more, or trying to match myself with what the book laid out as my basic character.

I think it was the later that drew me towards it. I began to indulge in a game of picking an acquaintance as a sample, estimating him or her with my limited means of understanding, and then assessing if the bookish descriptions matched my personal evaluation of them. At some point of time as wisdom seeped in, I began to wonder where lay my faith — in the book or in the person it defined, for I realised that I was either bending the words in the tome to match the person or reading the person in the light of the book. It put paid to that brief period of starry obsession in my life.

Forecasts about my days ahead are great sources of confusion or amusement now. Either I don’t understand a word of what is said; for the language is as cryptic as matters of luck, or I chuckle as I try to interpret the prophesy in a way that fits the events in my life. And believe you me, many times I distort either my life events or the forecast to get a conclusive and believable statement out of it.

A weekly forecast column recently said that my personal world was changing and I must too. The week has passed, and neither my world nor I have changed. Another magazine said that it was a good time to improve my efficiency and productivity by examining how to use my time and energy effectively. That good time is past, and now I am idling my life out. Yet another fortuneteller said that I must keep a watch on my health that week. Pray, when shouldn’t I?

Horoscope reading and predictions are greatly followed by millions around the world, and I wonder if my ambivalence towards them is misplaced. I know people who swear by this great science of zodiacs, and let their lives be steered by what the astrologer says. An elderly acquaintance who is a certified believer was predicted to have died two years ago, and she lives to tell the tale today, wondering what went wrong.

The veracity and significance of astrological predictions is a contentious subject, but what disconcerts me is the fact that we load our lives with anticipated incidents and spend our time either in undue elation or anxiety. In trying to know the secrets of tomorrow, aren’t we ruining the joys of today? Can we really put a spanner in the works of the Supreme Order, uncover what lies ahead and pretend to be game changers in the large cosmic scheme of things? Is soothsaying really so very soothing?

Asha Iyer Kumar is a freelance journalist based in Dubai