What Vedic astrology did (not) tell me
When Rishi, my Vedic astrologer, told me that my soul was initially born in this world with a certain blueprint but looked around, didn’t quite like it and decided to promptly die in order to reincarnate with a different set up, I thought “That totally sounds like something I’d do”.
Rishi dropped this bomb, apparently a quite rare occurrence, at the end of our two-hours session, telling me that there was so much more that he could infer from my chart but we would need at a minimum an additional hour to delve deeper into that. As I’m writing this, I’m still hesitating on whether I should go all in (or as we say in Italian “since I went for 30, go for 31”) and pay for the privilege of asking “you mean to tell me that my soul is spoiled to the point of having suicidal tendencies?”.
On my birthday, I decided to gift myself a (relatively expensive) two-hours Vedic astrology reading, because…why not? I was here in India and astrology apparently originated from here - and got proverbially lost in translation when it was brought to the West (but more on that later). While I printed out my western astrology birth chart multiple times, mostly because I kept forgetting any sign except for my sun sign (the main one), and I dabbled in Human Design (that will be another story), I’ve never had any proper astrology reading. As I’m embracing curiosity in all its form, I decided to take this opportunity as a cultural experience and give it a shot. At the end, if anything, I would at least come to the conclusion that there’s nothing in there for me.
Photo by @omarboussemha
Rishi, as he told me later, comes from a lineage of royal astrologers that used to read the stars for kings and queens and got handsomely rewarded for it without even having to ask for compensation. On the other hand, coming from a family of down-to-earth skeptical Italian farmers, I was damn well going to get my money’s worth and try to get as much juice out of this session as I could. I also came prepared, thanks to a podcast where another Vedic astrologer was interviewed, and I knew some of the basics.
Based on my admittedly limited understanding, the two astrological systems are based on two different calendars that, back some 2,000 years ago were actually overlapping but rotate at different speed so that the calculations done now yield different results (hence the “lost in translation” part). In addition to all your planetary positions switching around like in a game of musical-chairs, Vedic astrology also places a higher importance on Rahu and Ketu (respectively the North Node and the South Node in Western astrology). These two shadow planets tell you what is your karma, the skills, the burdens or unfinished business you have inherited from a past life, and your dharma, your soul’s purpose in this life.
This was what I was mostly interested in, as my main question going around this life is “what am I supposed to do with it?”.
Read here if you want to know more about the difference in calculations and just pray for divine guidance, or a good psychiatrist, if you want to try to understand Rahu and Ketu
My session with Rishi started on a high note, or low depending on your perspective. He asked me if some very specific topics resonated for me. I couldn’t in all honesty say they did. We ended up spending the first half hour trying to figure out if I had the time of my birth wrong (I didn’t) or if it was more an issue of how the topics were formulated (possibly). After this jumpy start, we settled on a polite “let’s agree to disagree and let’s shelve it for later” kind of scenario and moved towards other subjects that started to make a bit more sense. Or at least where I could recognise part of my past self or potential, unexpressed self.
This approach however appears to be a westernisation, as not only traditional Vedic astrologers structure the reading differently, but the concerns that the postulants themselves bring to the astrologers are also not at all like mine. Apparently the astrologer is supposed to be silent and to just answer questions. Very pointed questions about specific areas or events in one’s future life. Astrologers are not supposed to give spiritual guidance, complained - rightly so - an Indian friend of mine and yoga teacher. What Rishi claimed to be parlour tricks that don’t delve into the essence of what a person needs to hear for their spiritual evolution, are the exact predictions for which people coming from abroad queue hours in front of the door of other astrologers. I mean “You will get a surgery on your lower abdomen in the next six months” kind of predictions.
Photo by Farzad Mohsenvand on Unsplash
Leaving aside the debate of whether those predictions are factually accurate or not and any disquisition as to self-fulfilling prophecies, as I haven’t had the chance to experience those myself, the real issue appears to me to be whether it is actually necessary to ask questions about the future at all. If something is meant to happen, or not meant to happen as it is often the case with things we desire, would knowing about it in advance change anything? Possibly, but only in terms of accepting and making peace with the outcome, whatever that might be. Which in general seems like a smart approach to life and its twist and turns. And if so, we can decide to work on adopting that attitude without spending a significant amount of money and resources to hear it from someone else.
On the other hand, maybe there is a space for asking “either/or” type of questions. Should I become a full time yoga teacher or go back to the corporate sector? But again, I know for myself that knowing that answer would mostly just have the effect of speeding up my decision making, not really influencing it. Like when you ask a friend their opinion on which scarf colour suits you best and then, once they give it to you, you politely thank them and swiftly pick the exact opposite. They will sigh with resignation but understand that in this play they didn’t have the role of the sage but that of the stick that pushes you to take the decision that deep down you knew is the right one for you.
In Jaipur there is a beautiful - but scorching under the midday sun - courtyard that holds a stunning collection of astronomical instruments dating back to the 18th century CE, the Jantar Mantar. They are gigantic and scattered, seemingly without logic, across the grounds. The few panels explaining their purpose just serve to remind the unaware tourist how little we do know, not only of the cosmos, but also of the skills and knowledge humans have acquired to tap into its mysteries. These instruments, tall as houses in mid-sized Italian towns, with staircases going to nowhere, are awesome, in the sense of awe-inducing. Not only as they represent the efforts and dedication of generations of star-gazers on head-cracking mathematical and geometrical models. I definitely would not have had the forbearance to stick with those. But also because they speak to the very human, very relatable yearning for some sort of certainty as to who we are and how we are supposed to proceed in life.
I have been advised to have specific questions for my third hour with Rishi. To nail down and direct efficiently the conversation. But I think I might just prefer to remain unaware of any divine masterplan and keep joyfully stumbling along on this life.
