The secret I held in my palm

You can't live in India without encountering palmists. They read the lines in your palm and, for a modest fee, tell you your past and present and, most tantalizingly, your future.

- MANISH NANDY

I never believed the stuff. I took my cue from a Bernard Shaw memoir.

A friend had sent a palmist to Shaw’s London residence, recommending the man as a true wizard. A cursory examination of Shaw’s palm and the palmist started telling Shaw things from his life that amazed him. Some of those memories were very private and Shaw had never shared those with anyone. It was astounding that the palmist had divined those from a few lines in Shaw’s palm.

The following week a publisher's representative came to talk to Shaw. After their discussion, on a sudden hunch, Shaw told the rep, falsely, that he had been studying palms and would like to see his. After a look at the rep’s palm, Shaw started telling the man just what he had heard the previous week about himself. The rep was stunned. He complimented Shaw on his skill and told him that he had narrated very private things that the rep had never told anybody.

Given my skepticism about palmistry, I couldn’t resist approaching a colleague at the university when I found he had developed a reputation as a palm reader.

‘‘My future looks pretty dismal,’’ I told him. ‘‘Why don’t you take a look at my palm?’’

‘‘Are you serious?’’ he asked.