The Maharashtra Chief Minister recently changed his name from Ashok to Ashokrao to bring himself luck. He’s not the only politician trying to manipulate his destiny using numbers, gemstones and crystal turtles
Haima Deshpande Haima Deshpande | 28 Oct, 2010
The Maharashtra CM has changed his name from Ashok to Ashokrao. He’s not the only politician trying to bend fate using numbers, gemstones and crystal turtles
A month ago, on a day when the skies liberally rained over Maharashtra, the chief custodian of the state Ashok Chavan decided to append some more letters to his name. It was not his idea. One of the many numerologists with access to the state’s Chief Minister had taken a good hard look at the numbers and letters in his name, and sounded the alert—it was not lucky anymore. Suddenly, ‘Ashok Chavan’, which its bearer had carried for the past 52 years, posed a political danger.
So, on that very wet day, the state’s Public Works Department (PWD) was served an order from the CM’s office that ‘rao’ be added to ‘Ashok’ with immediate effect. By evening, PWD workmen had replaced ‘Ashok Chavan’ on his office door with the nameplate ‘Ashokrao Chavan’. Maharashtra’s directorate of information and public relations was also directed to issue a mandatory note to the media on the change.
Chavan has a history of tampering with the influence that stars wield on politics. Some months ago, while going on a foreign tour, he was advised against handing over interim charge because it was inauspicious. The result was chaos, with Deputy Chief Minister Chhagan Bhujbal left unempowered for purposes of decision-making in Chavan’s absence.
Chavan’s predecessor, Vilasrao Deshmukh, who is now Union Minister for Heavy Industries, also propitiated heavenly objects before setting foot in Varsha, the Malabar Hill bungalow of the Chief Minister. He let a vaastu shastra expert loose on the premises first. Along with other changes, a crystal turtle found its way onto a glass table facing the direction where Deshmukh sat. To seal the deal, he had chunky rings of pearl, yellow sapphire and emerald adorn his fingers as well. To be fair to him, such rings are a common sight on politicians’ fingers, even if diamonds, a girl’s best friend, find little favour with them (too bad for De Beers, they’re just not lucky enough).
With luck considered so critical, it’s little surprise that the state’s top godmen, Satya Sai Baba and Bhayyu Maharaj, count Chavan and Deshmukh—apart from several ministers, MPs and MLAs—as their followers. When Chavan took over as CM, Satya Sai Baba flew down to Varsha to bless him. Only a few faithfuls were invited to witness the event, but photographs of the CM seated at the Baba’s feet led to a heated debate on the protocol of high office. “I don’t claim to be a godman,” says Bhayyu Maharaj, “Politicians do come to me—because they get positive energy from me. I advise them on how to be good human beings. They are doing well in their careers because they follow what I say along with their own initiatives.”
Every party has its superstitious leaders. Take Congress minister Narayan Rane, who was once Shiv Sena’s Leader of the Opposition. In the early 2000s, feng shui came into vogue, and when Rane ran into a rough patch with Uddhav Thackeray, who’d been anointed executive president of the Sena, he became a convert. Frogs, turtles, crystals, colour coordinates and more became an integral part of his living and work space. On seeing the potpourri on Rane’s table at his Vidhan Bhavan office once, a reporter casually remarked that it was bad for his career to keep anything dry around him; Rane summoned an assistant and had it all dumped straightaway.
In the Shiv Sena again, when nephew Raj Thackeray walked out and launched a tirade against cousin Uddhav, Bal Thackeray too called in a feng shui expert. He was advised that the conflict was due to the ‘wrong positioning’ of Matoshree, his lair. Sources say changes were made, but family tensions didn’t change. Raj Thackeray, now president of the Maharashtra Navnirman Sena that is eating into Sena votes, gives the impression that he is forging his own destiny. That, alas, is not true. He has help from practitioners of feng shui, vaastu shastra and numerology. They help him find the right days and dates for political activities. He has been told that the number 9 is his lucky charm, and has unfailingly stuck to it since starting the MNS.
Both Uddhav and Raj are devotees of Ekvira Devi, seated atop the lush green hills near Lonavala. They always embark on political campaigns after paying obeisance to this local deity. Though the temple is an arduous trek, they’re happy to walk their way up accompanied by loyalists and sloganeers. Another hotspot for politicians in trouble is Trimbakeshwar, a site near Nashik of a centuries old Shiva temple. “Everyone’s astrological chart has some misfortune,” says Nakhil Guruji, a sought-after priest there, explaining why politicians turn up regularly to have Kaalsarpa puja conducted to appease this serpent god.
Superstitions can take many colours. Raksha sutra, or the vermillion-hued thread tied around the wrist, is an important part of most politicians’ get-up. Even Sonia and Rahul Gandhi are seen sporting it. In the case of Shiv Sena MP Mohan Rawle, it was a yellow fixation. Last polls, he needed a victory desperately. Since yellow is a Thursday colour, and polling was being done on that day, Rawle dressed up in bright yellow for the event. He was defeated. According to Congress sources, the late Sunil Dutt, cine star-turned-politician, always stepped out of his house with his right foot forward. That one worked; as long as he was alive, his political fortunes never waned.
The zealous can go overboard. During the reign of the Shiv Sena-BJP combine in Maharashtra, Desmond Yates was co-opted to the Legislative Assembly as a member of the Anglo-Indian community. He had lobbied hard for it, and once there, wanted to stay put. He consulted a feng shui teacher to enhance his luck, and went around with a wristful of colourful beads. When he got bundled out of the Assembly by Thackeray, someone remarked that the beads had done him in—the energies of the many that he wore had clashed and cancelled each other!
With such avid clients, Maharashtra’s luck peddlers are not complaining. “Politicians follow all the advice given to them and never bargain on cost,” says Larra Shah, feng shui expert and tarot reader. Her clientele is a roster of politicians. Tarot reader Sunita Menon, feng shui practitioner Charuhas Naik, and numerologist Sanjay B Jumani, all celebrities in their own right, are favourites in Mumbai, and not least among Maharashtra’s politicians.
With so many politicians so roundly superstitious, it is no wonder that a Bill to clamp down on quacks and the propagation of superstitions has been collecting dust for over a decade in the Maharashtra Assembly. It’s a daunting task even getting it tabled in either
House of the Legislature. Ask them, and they’ll probably say they couldn’t find an auspicious time for it.
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