Indian fortune teller

I met a fortune teller on the street today. An indian one. I never really ask for him to tell me my fortune. I was just walking to the busstop and out of the blue, this indian guy who was walking beside me juz turn around and said you are a very lucky man. Yeah right. Lucky my foot. I still gotten get to win the 10 million toto.

Then he went on talking about my fortune, my love life, my career, my worries and such. As usual, most of what fortune teller would tell me if I asked them. Then he invite me to sit down at the busstop. Lucky him, I was waiting for the bus. Lucky him but I probably won't say that he can predicted it. Probably caused I stopped walking after reaching the busstop. While walking to the busstop, he actually never stop talking. Just kept mentioning about my worries and problems and I think too much. Way way too much. Ask me not to rush into anything. I would be very very happy next month. I wondered what was going to happen next month. Ah Bill gonna give me his wealth? Actually I'm such a simple man. A lot of things also could just made me happy. I think.

Then he went on again but I was only listening with half a heart. I hate missing the bus. The damn bus would be a long wait if I missed one. He ask me to show him my right palm. I just showed it to him, quickly. No harm I believed. I dun work in some extremely high security area where my palm was the key to opening some secret weapons, Ain't no Mission Impossible/James Bond/Alias style. Doubt  my hand was going ever going to be chopped for that purpose. He took a quick glance and then go on talking abt my dunno what line. I thought I heard love line. It was full of ups and downs. That there was going to be two (yeah, two.. one.. two... and I'm seriously trying very hard to surpress my urge to burst out laughing) women in my life and I'm going to just love one, leaving the other broken-hearted. Oh yeah, tell me about it man. But this one was good. This statement was so totally first-timer. No other fortune teller ever told me that.

Then he tried some kind of test on me. Took out his brown planner diary and started scribbling something on a tiny piece of paper and crashed it into a tiny ball and passed to me, asking me to hold it in my fist. Then he started asking me some personal  questions. Well, I really tried to be honest. And then he asked me to blow into my fist. Yah right, like some magic show and ask me to open up the tiny ball of paper. Somehow, the answer on the paper matched the answer of the questions he asked me. Interesting, isn't it?

And the moment I'm expecting it to happen. He asked me to put that piece of paper back into this little brown planner diary of his. Then next grand moment, asked me to put some moolah there so that he could, I thought he say, pray for me. For my happiness. So was I conned? Well, I did put some moolah in it. 2 bucks. All that I can afford to spare. Then he looked at it and said that its so little. Then showed me this old photos of a lot of children. And talked about how moolah were just things that are external of life. Something that I could not carry to me when I died. Oh man, someone wanna talk philosophy with me. Great. I knew that. In fact, I always said that though it was never easy to not let moolah affect your life. Anyway, I just looked at him and said that that was all I'm willing to spare. He just smiled at me, shaked my hand and then walked away.

Well, the 2 bucks was just for entertaining me. Why not? I can afford that.