True Story of a Writer: Without Hypocrisy



The following story depicts the traits not only the of an Indian writer but also of others in other parts of the world.  I have been faced with only a very few of them and not all of them.  Not b

any standard does the article aim at casting aspersions on any writer in any manner.  I do not know if the number of such writers is negligibly small.  It is not a problem that calls for any statistical analysis

True Story of a Writer: Without Hypocrisy

 I go deep down into my life when I was a student at a college in Mathura, I am reminded of an interesting story.  My friend was a great admirer of me being a good foreteller, though I believe, I was not and am not.

One friend of my friend requested me to visit his home and just study the birth charts etc. of the members of his family Indian families used to comprise of seven to seventeen members and over.  For me it was an honour.  I agreed without any demur or hesitance.  Having got to his home I said to him that I had seen books written by him in at several stores in some big cities of India.  Being a writer of books on Palmistry and Astrology, why did he need a layman to be consulted?  He replied very politely that writing books was one thing and knowing the subject matter is altogether a different thing. 

I asked him without having knowledge, how was it possible to write books?   He replied that he would bring some books from library and would pick up something from one book, something from the other and something from the third —-. A book would be ready.  

I asked him further how many books he had written.  He replied the number might be about sixteen hundred.  “How many days does it take you to prepare one book?” was my last question.  “Just three-four days,” was his reply. I do not remember what I did for him as a foreteller.

I cannot criticize him; I cannot find faults with him in view of all the candour he had to be clean and open hearted to a friend of younger generation.  I have forgotten his face; I have forgotten his name. But his straightforwardness has left an indelible impression on my consciousness. I am virtually moved to tears at his plight, hard work and honesty. Major part of the worth of his hard work went to the publishers.  With all this untiring labour he could just manage to feed his family.  Why would he, if he were a rich man, look for an Astrologer?  

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