AN ASTROLOGER'S DAY
by R. K. Narayan, 1947

The fiction of R. K. Narayan is marked by a persistently ironic apprehension of life, the irony varying from the simple and the situational comic type to tragic irony that reveals the deep-seated ambiguities and existential dilemmas of the human condition. It is also a fiction strongly imbued with the "spirit of place," as much rooted in its native soil as is the work of William Faulkner. Unlike the American novelist, however, Narayan employs a style that is disarmingly simple.

Narayan's short stories are on the whole characterized by these three basic traits, though it is possible to argue that the irony that operates in them is usually of the light-fingered variety. "An Astrologer's Day," the title story of a 1947 collection, is a short story eminently representative of Narayan's talent.

The actual narrative element in "An Astrologer's Day" is slight. A town astrologer coaxes a rather reluctant client into consulting him at the end of a day, when he is about to shut up shop. The client wants to know when he would be able to locate his enemy, who had tried to kill him years before in their village, so that he could avenge himself. Little does the client know that the enemy whom he seeks is the astrologer himself, before whom he is squatting at the moment. He does not recognize the man because the latter, with his "painted forehead," dark whiskers, and saffron-colored turban, looks every inch an astrologer. However, the astrologer recognizes the client as the victim whom he had knifed years before. No wonder he is able to recapitulate the client's past so thoroughly that absolute belief in his prediction of the future now becomes possible for the poor client. The astrologer coolly tells the client that his enemy is now dead, "crushed under a lorry." His advice to the client is to "take the next train and be gone. I see once again great danger to your life if you go from home." He particularly emphasizes the necessity of the client's avoiding another visit to the town. The story ends with the astrologer returning home and telling his wife, "Do you know a great load is gone from me today? I thought I had the blood of a man on my hands all these years. That was the reason why I ran away from home, settled here, and married you. He is alive."

At first reading "An Astrologer's Day" appears to be a somewhat uncomplicated story, rather amusing in the O. Henry-like twist, administering a mild shock of surprise to the reader at the end. But Narayan's is an art that conceals art. The deceptive simplicity of the story really hides a multiplicity of ironies. First, as pointed out by the narrator himself, the astrologer is a charlatan with neither the requisite expertise nor the proper training; he just gets by on the strength of common sense, keen observation, and shrewd guesswork. It is ironic that the false prediction of a fake astrologer should radically change the lives of two men for the better. This might even raise for the perceptive reader the eternal question of "Action" and the "Fruit of Action"—an ethical question raised in the Indian religious classic The Gita. In many other respects the entire situation is ironical: the astrologer is himself the subject of the client's query, and it is his own future he is asked to predict. Never perhaps is prediction so easy for the astrologer and so certain to come true; the astrologer is at first extremely reluctant to advise the client once he recognizes him and is actually forced by the man to do his job. Had he really declined to predict he would not have had a great weight lifted from his mind, nor would he have been able to ensure a life of peace for himself. Furthermore, in this game of one-upmanship each has won in his own way: the astrologer has obviously won by getting rid permanently of an old foe, but the client too has gained a little victory—he had promised a rupee to the astrologer but has actually fobbed him off with only twelve and a half annas; nevertheless, basking in the satisfaction of having saved about a quarter rupee, the poor client is left blissfully unaware of the great opportunity he has missed.

Like most of Narayan's works "An Astrologer's Day" is a story neatly structured, with its action briskly moving toward the snap, surprise ending. The opening, with its rather long description of the astrologer's personal appearance and the setting in which he operates, may at first appear to be a little too leisurely for a short story. But with its skillful use of color and small details it recaptures evocatively the small-town scene. Thus the astrologer, with his forehead "resplendent with sacred ash and vermilion," his dark whiskers, and the saffron-colored turban around his head, presents a colorful figure. Telling details like the place being lit up by "hissing gaslights," "naked flares stuck up on poles," and "old cycle lamps," create the proper atmosphere for the astrologer's dark predictions.

The story is written in a direct and lucid style, almost Spartan in its unadorned simplicity. Narayan uses no similes and no metaphors. His sentences are mostly short, and his diction unpretentious, with Indian words like "jutka," "jaggery," and "pyol" providing the proper local color to a story that is essentially Indian in every way.

—M.K. Naik