You know, I’ve always had a tough time understanding why so many women (and men) resort to the guidance of psychics in this city. In fact, I know entire families who pay millions of rupees to their personal psychics and spiritual guides just to seek their advice and ensure that no harm befalls their enterprise (strangely enough, they always seem to be troubled and in need of psychic assistance). Plus, not only is the whole concept totally bizarre from a secular, completely objective perspective, it is also highly condemned in Islam for those of us who prefer to adopt a religious point of view. Anyway, I guess it’s safe to say that I’m not a believer. Or, at least I wasn’t. I’m not so sure anymore.
This past week, I was hanging out at my best friend’s place when her family ‘psychicologist’ dropped by (he often provides therapy and counseling services to his clients because of his stellar psychic abilities). I’d heard about Mian Shareef many times before - when he had guided my best friend through her first break up, when he had helped the family overcome a severe financial crisis, when he had warned against a bad rishta - but I had never met him in person. This was my chance. I asked my friend if I could get my hisab (my kismet accounts, per se) checked out from him (I’ve been wanting to do a TFT piece on this for a while now). I didn’t have any money to pay him, but I told her that he’d know I was being honest if he were actually psychic. And he did know. He knew I was broke. He also had a piercing look in his eyes, which freaked me out even more, and he kept on telling me things about myself that I know to be true but try to avoid at all costs. He made sense. I was baffled. I still am.
Psychic and psychologist, all rolled into one?
***
“Hello?”
“Zara, oh…oh my god,” Sanam stammered. “Why did it take so long for you to call me back?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I was—“
“Zara, I’m…I’m so upset,” she cut me off, still stammering as if she was just recovering from a major cry. “Something is wrong with my stupid husband.”
“Oh my god, what’s wrong? Is he okay?”
“Yes, he’s fine. He…I think he’s…cheating on me!” she mumbled, and then immediately began to sob uncontrollably.
“Sanam, are you sure? Stop crying, yaar! Can you tell me what happened?”
“He’s been messaging someone at night. He…he goes in the lounge and he get’s upset if I enter. Plus, during work, he’s online on WhatsApp way more than he used to be…he’s obviously talking to someone…”
“Sanam, please yaar, stop acting silly. How can you be sure?”
“I can’t…but I’m going to find out.”
***
How did he know about all these things? And was he right about the future he was painting for me before my eyes? After my session with Mian Shareef, I asked my friend his deal. Apparently, Mian Shareef was born with a gift - the ability to see and interact with djinns and mokals (powerful entities made of light that only do good and can be best described as messengers from another world). He had sharpened his skills overtime through the extensive study of the Quran and other texts. I needed to know more, so I called my mother’s super religious friend later that evening and asked her to explain the entire concept to me as best as she could. Basically, psychics like Mian Shareef are able to ‘trap’ or ‘capture’ mokals, who then hear bits and pieces about our future and relate them back to the psychic. However, it’s important to know that mokals always hear the incomplete truth, and that psychics make many assumptions during this process to provide us with their best assessment of what our past, present, and future looks like. Based on this theory, we shouldn’t trust psychics completely, but we can be assured that they know more we ever will, and that sometimes they may be correct about what lies ahead of us. Do I believe in this? Like I said, I’m not too sure what to make of it (except that it sounds like a really good way to end your peace of mind). Anyway, I just hope Mian Shareef doesn’t mind me writing about his work (fingers crossed he won’t find out or care). After all, he did make it a point to let me know that he was aware of my lack of belief, and that he wasn’t amused by my mental convictions - not in the slightest.
Do I believe in this? Like I said, I'm not too sure what to make of it
***
The next morning, Sanam made her way to Anarkali. She hadn’t slept all night, and she was worried about what she would learn this day. Rahu Baba was a famous man, to say the least, as many aunties of the One Percent had sought his help at one time or another and given him rave reviews. Slightly terrified but determined to find out he truth, Sanam made her way through the dirty narrow street that led to Rahu Baba’s den and up the dilapidated staircase that opened into his quarters (and they were really quarters, as Sanam soon noticed). Rahu Baba sat in the center of the room. Sanam noticed that he was really high, because his eyes were red, and she would have offered him her Curine eye drops if she weren’t so scared of what would happen next. Rahu Baba gestured her to sit down. Before she could speak, he interrupted her. “You’re worried your husband is cheating on you, am I right?” he asked, but simply continued on. “It is not my job to tell you another man’s truth. It is my job to help you get what you want. Take this taweez (locket) and place it under your bed, on your husband’s side. Also, make him fat. You will soon find that your husband will lose the self-confidence needed to cheat.” As Sanam exited the den, she felt slightly relieved. She didn’t know the truth, yes, but she was happier knowing that she could have her man all to herself, albeit a little fat.
