Indian Nocturne by Antonio Tabucchi Read Free Book Online Page B

the
karma
of the pilgrims, we make a lot of money.’
    ‘So he’s a fortune-teller.’
    ‘Yes,’ said the boy innocently, ‘he sees the past and the future.’ Then making a professional association of ideas, he asked me: ‘Would you like to know your
karma
? It only costs five rupees.’
    ‘Okay,’ I said, ‘ask your brother about my
karma
.’
    The boy spoke softly to his brother and the brother replied in a whisper, looking at me with his darting eyes.
    ‘My brother asks if he can touch your forehead,’ the boy told me. The monster nodded agreement, waiting.
    ‘Sure he can, if it’s necessary.’
    The fortune-teller stretched out his twisted little hand and placed his forefinger on my forehead. He stayed that way a few moments staring at me intently. Then he withdrew his hand and
whispered some words in his brother’s ear. A short, excited argument followed. The fortune-teller spoke quickly, he seemed annoyed and irritated. When they had finished arguing the boy turned
to me with a wounded look.
    ‘So,’ I asked, ‘can I hear it?’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘my brother says it isn’t possible, you are someone else.’
    ‘Oh, really,’ I said, ‘who am I?’
    The boy spoke to his brother again and the brother answered briefly. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ translated the boy, ‘that’s only
maya
.’
    ‘And what is
maya
?’
    ‘It’s the outward appearance of the world,’ the boy replied, ‘but it’s only illusion, what counts is the
atma
.’ Then he consulted his brother and
confirmed with conviction: ‘What counts is the
atma
.’
    ‘And what is the
atma
?’
    The boy smiled at my ignorance. ‘The soul,’ he said, ‘the individual soul.’
    A woman came in and sat on the bench opposite us. She was carrying a basket with a child asleep inside. I looked at her and she made a rapid gesture of bowing her head in her hands as a sign of
respect.
    ‘I thought we only had our
karma
inside us,’ I said, ‘the sum of our actions, of what we have been and what we shall be.’
    The boy smiled again and spoke to his brother. The monster looked at me with his small sharp eyes and held up two of his fingers. ‘Oh, no,’ explained the boy, ‘there’s
your
atma
as well, it’s there together with the
karma
, but it’s a separate thing.’
    ‘Well then, if I’m another person, I’d like to know where my
atma
is, where it is now.’
    The boy translated for the brother and a rapid exchange followed. ‘It’s difficult to say,’ he came back to me, ‘he can’t do it.’
    ‘Try asking him if ten rupees would help,’ I said.
    The boy told him and the monster stared into my face with his small eyes. Then he spoke a few words directly to me, very quickly. ‘He says it’s not a question of rupees,’ the
boy translated, ‘you’re not there, he can’t tell you where you are.’ He gave me a nice smile and went on: ‘but if you want to give us the ten rupees, we’ll take
them anyway.’
    ‘Sure I’ll give you them,’ I said, ‘but at least ask him who I am now.’
    The boy turned on his indulgent smile again and then said: ‘but that’s only your
maya
, what use is it knowing that?’
    ‘Of course,’ I said, ‘you’re right, no use at all.’ Then I had an idea and said: ‘Ask him to try and guess.’
    The boy looked at me in astonishment. ‘To guess what?’
    ‘To guess where my
atma
is,’ I said. ‘Didn’t you say he had prophetic powers?’
    The boy translated my question and the brother gave him a brief answer. ‘He says he can try,’ he said, ‘but he can’t guarantee anything.’
    ‘It doesn’t matter, let him try just the same.’
    The monster stared at me very intensely, for a long time. Then he made a gesture with his hand and I waited for him to speak, but he didn’t. His fingers moved lightly in the air, tracing
waves, then he cupped his hands as if to lift some imaginary water. He whispered a few words. ‘He says you are on a boat,’ the boy