Of good-luck signs and the evil eye
By
Manohar Malgonkar
FETISH, also spelt fetiche, is a
rarely used word, either in conversation or writing. It
is said to have come into the English language from the
Portuguese, and it means "an inanimate object
worshipped by savages".
In that case the entire
human race consists of savages, because every human being
is a fetishist in that there is just no one who does not
believe in irrational influences.
The evil eye. I thought it
was a peculiarly Indian or Hindu
superstition. That is why we take good care to put some
sort of blemish on our most cherished possessions. On
every new-built house you will see a black doll hanging
high over the roof. And we never tell a mother how pretty
her baby is, knowing it would quite shock her. But just
in case someone who does not know the rules does, all
mothers make sure that their infants are protected
against such remarks: they put a smear of lamp-black on
their cheeks just in case to make their
babies look suitably blemished.
The Jews, too, believe in
the evil eye, but among them it is the viewers of babies
who make sure that the baby is protected against it.
Whenever a mother proudly shows her baby to visitors,
theyre expected to make spitting sounds
"tfu-tfu" and say: "But how ugly!"
Meaning, of course:
"Oh, what a pretty baby!"
And good-luck signs! Even
the most worldly people believe in them. For instance W.
Somerset Maugham, Britains most successful author
between the two world wars.
The title pages of all
Maughams books no matter in what language and
printed in what country, bear a mystic sign which
resembles a Moorish arch but with what looks like a
Christian cross held within its arms. Where did Maugham
first see the sign and why did he adopt it? Above all,
did he himself believe that it was the mystic sign that
brought him luck, success and fame?
As it did to another
author, Paul Scott, whose books bear the image of Ganpati
on their title pages. In 1959, Paul Scott left his job at
the Literary Agency of David Higham in London, to become
a full-time author. That was when he acquired a small
image of Ganpati, "soul of wisdom and learning and
giver of gifts and granter of boons,"and as he wrote
to his American publisher, he was going to celebrate New
Years Day, 1960, by burning joss sticks before it
"so that we might have a best-seller on our
hands."
Alas, Scotts
London-bought Ganpati brought him no gifts. That
best-seller for which those joss-sticks had been burned
remained elusive. But gods must exercise their influence
in mysterious ways, and four years later, Scott may have
begun to realise that the elephant god had decided to
take an interest in his literary career after all.
In 1964, Scott came to
India in search of material for his Raj novels. He was
looking for a place to stay while in Bombay, and his
friends found him lodgings in a flat overlooking the Oval
which was owned by a lady whose name was, Mrs Ganapathy.
Even more significantly, Mrs Ganapathy herself seems to
be a believer in the gift-bearing qualities of her
eponymous deity, Ganpati. For when, at the end of his
stay in Bombay, Scott was leaving for Madras, Mrs
Ganapathys farewell gift to him was a tiny silver
image of Ganpati, to bring him luck.
That little Ganpati, Paul
Scott kept on a shelf close to his writing table as he
wrote his next novel. The Jewel in the Crown. The
book was greeted by retired sahibs with wet-eyed
nostalgia:This, gad, sir, is us! Anyhow, the Jewel sold a
little better then its predecessors, and this Scott took
to mean that his little silver Ganpati had begun to
smile. He may have been right. For another three Raj
books and Ganpati was positively beaming.
No wonder his image adorns
the title pages of all Scotts subsequent books.
O.K. Struggling authors,
desperate for recognition but, even more, to earn a
living, have every excuse to seek supernatural help.
But what about men and
women born to wealth and social prominence? Surely,
theyre already so secure, so handsomely provided,
that they should have no need of supernatural aid.
It is just that no one,
from the highest to the man-in-the-street, seems to be
immune. Why, even Britains Royal family.
Princess Dianas
biographer, Andrew Morton tells us that, right from the
days of Queen Victoria, the Royal family have always
believed in "such things as seances and other
investigations into the paranormal," and that
princess Diana herself, for all her lack of conformity,
seems to have fitted pat into the "psychic
bloodlines."If anything, she was, in Mortons
words, "very open, almost too open, to belief...
when she first began to investigate the possibilities of
the spiritual world."
And right at the opposite
side of the world from us, lived an immensely
high-profile dignitary who, were told, was also
"influenced by superstition and the supernatural. He
named his dog Lucky, carried good-luck coins in his
pocket every day, and threw salt over his shoulder at
meals. He believed in the magical charm of the number
33."
His name: Ronald Reagan.
Fittingly enough, Ronald
Reagan wife, Nancy, too, is almost equally obsessed with
the supernatural and this proneness of the President and
his wife to what wags in America had begun to call Black
Magic became the subject of jokes.
Nancy Reagan tried hard to
downplay her interest in astrology and warned her
spiritual advisor, Joan Quiggley to keep their
relationship a secret. Ms Quiggley did just the opposite.
She not only told people
about it, but boasted about it on TV and even wrote a
book on the precise subject: My Seven Years as White
House Astrologer to Nancy and Ronald Reagan.
Kitty Kelly who has built
a formidable reputation for herself as the revealer of
the secrets of famous men and women has a lot to say
about the superstitions that Nancy Reagn observes: She
would not "put a hat on a bed",she tells us,
"or put shoes on a shelf higher than her head, and
that she always slept with her head and feet facing
north."
How does anyone lie in bed
with both the head and the feet turned in the same
direction. Kitty Kelly must know. But if she means only
the head, why, that superstition, too, is of Indian
origin, and must have crossed the Atlantic with the
Indian emigrants.
And three cheers to them!
They are the traditionalists, not yet converted to the
religion of science and technology. Superstitions are,
after all, acknowledgements of our uncertainties. We
touch wood to keep in touch with humanity. We believe
that something good or bad will happen to us because of
the first person we happened to see on waking up.
A cat crossing your path
is a bad omen, an itch on the left palm means money
coming in. These are feel-good devices that we have been
handed down from the past. No matter how much you strive,
you always need a nudge from the stars to succeed. And it
is always good to have a Ganpati fighting up for you.
Nancy Reagan might try
acquiring one and Kitty Kelly, too.
And Bill Gates? Why not?.
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