One after another started showing the palm to
And he telling the things in his own way.
First, seeing the forehead and the palm,
The fingers,
The positions of Lakshmi and Saraswati,
Whether vidya in the stomach or not,
The fate-line without heath hazards or not,
The line crisscrossed or not.
Asking about the past history and troubles,
Dangers and happenings,
The palmist taking a note of
And prophesizing,
A throw in the dark.
With the stones and herbal roots
And palmyra charts,
Showing the thumb impressions not,
Nor the finger prints as for forensic reports,
But the palms and the star positions.
Who will generally like to be a palmist
In this world of today,
Barring the unemployed and the jobless,
Wanting to earn somehow,
The frauds and cleverly ones,
Searching probable clients?
Maybe he an escapist,
Maybe a thug,
An addict
Or a romantic
Seeing the hands of his beloved in a disguise
And the beloved searching him.
Trying to see her hands with the magnifying glass
And the eyes with the specs
But the beloved unmindful of all that,
Already under pressure from the people
Of his caste and social taboos.