We’re all a little strange when it comes to matters involving Lady Luck, aren’t we? And no, don’t tell me how education has evolved and taught us how to rise above silly superstition, made us rational. It has not. Or at least not completely.
I still see grown-ass men in my home town come to a screeching halt as soon as a cat crosses their path. If it’s a black cat, the halting screech is louder! Then, they carefully turn around and retreat a few paces before attempting to proceed along their original path. The reason for this is rooted in an old Indian superstition: When a cat crosses your path, it brings you bad luck. To divert the bad luck, take a few steps back before continuing along your original path. I don’t know how that helps, but maybe someday I’ll find out.
Another instance I can think of is the whole ‘evil eye’ ritual that’s followed in my home as well as at my in-laws’ place. I’m told to stand mutely while an elder takes a fistful of salt and circles it repeatedly around my head while muttering some holy chant. The salt is then carefully washed away in running water, taking with it any evil eye forces I might have gathered on my person. If at any time during this ritual, I utter a word, then the whole thing becomes null and needs to be started again with a fresh fistful of salt. I bet our grocer feels very lucky that we spend so much on salt supplies.
I could keep pointing fingers at others, but honestly, I’m no better than them. As a child, I had this watch which I was certain was lucky for me. I wore it until its dial was more scratches than glass, and its band was held together by a prayer… after which I got it repaired and wore it some more. There was no exam I didn’t wear that damn watch to. And I aced every test. No, that wasn’t because of my rigorous study routine. It was definitely the watch’s powers <insert ‘Mr. India’ movie theme here>.
And no, my silliness didn’t end with me finding adulthood. A couple of years ago, I applied for a driving licence. It was my first time behind the wheel and I was hellishly nervous. Besides extensive training, there were four tests standing in the way of my licence: Four stringent, expensive tests. The first test was a written exam, then came the parking yard test, followed by two heavy-duty road tests. I won’t lie to you, my dear reader: This time around, I didn’t stop at the watch. I wore the exact same pair of jeans, the same striped white tee, the same pair of shoes, and the same watch to every. single. test. I don’t quite remember it now, but I might have even worn the same set of underwear!
Guess what…the silliness worked! I got my licence! Vroom-vroom!
I also needed to wash that poor set of clothes real hard and hang them out to air dry until they looked respectable again, but I’m not complaining :D
So…what’s your secret ‘Buddy’ crutch that you lean on in a completely irrational way? Spill in the comments section:
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Great comic but greater writing! Couldn't stop laughing at the salt ritual which I and my kids have gone through many many times!!! I love your bear but your worm is creeeeepy