Shree Ganesha Namah! I give you Bejan Daruwalla. The delightful and bawdy Parsi astrologer and celebrated Ganpati bhakt. Also a diehard Ahmedabadi. People used to think he was from Mumbai. But he was from Ahmedabad. That’s where he was born and that’s where he died last evening of pneumonia in Apollo Hospital. His father owned textile mills. Bejan had no head for business. He was into poetry and literature. He became a professor. He used to also tell me he was Ahmedabad’s 100 metres sprint champion back in the day. And played hockey and cricket for the varsity. I used to look at him, 5 feet nothing and a roly-poly 200 pounds, he could no longer see the twinkling feet that got him trophies and won matches, and try to imagine Bejan as an athletic streak of lightning. But I failed each time. However, his girth matched his mirth, and I loved his Parsi masti and dum.

We went back a long way, to 1984 in fact, before Indira's assassination and the Bhopal gas tragedy, both of which Bejan accurately predicted. But he was not a Prophet of Doom. He also forecast some wonderfully accurate successes for Amitabh Bachchan and Sachin Tendulkar when they were down and out. And the political fortunes of world leaders, the destinies of nations. I was a sub-editor at mid-day. Bejan used to write a hugely successful daily astrology column for us. He was staying at the Shalimar Hotel in Kemps Corner and came to our office in Tardeo bringing one week’s forecasts at a time. I lost them all one day. Afraid of also losing my job, I fearfully began writing the daily forecasts myself under the great Bejan Daruwalla’s name. It was not difficult to do, people were emotionally bankrupt, they wanted to read good predictions only. But I got caught. My editor Behram (Busybee) Contractor was furious. Not with me. But with Bejan! He fired him. Told him that one of his “boys” was writing the astrology column and nobody could tell the difference!