There used to be a local lunatic named Aziz in my village. Men would generally call him "Aziz Phater" ( Aziz the madman ). Older folk would call him "Aziz Darwesh" ( Aziz the seer ), for many believed that he had the gift of clairvoyance.
Aziz would spend hours and sometimes even days standing in "Raembh Aara" ( Local river ), his gaze fixed on horizon as if looking into distant future. After finishing with his gazing, he would begin an exercise of rolling large stones on the riverbed as if they had been somehow misplaced and he was putting them back in order.
Aziz was almost abandoned by his family. He survived on charity of local people.
Aziz would visit my home and ask my grandfather for urdu newspaper. He'd tear the newspaper in bits and then give them back to my grandfather saying "Roppye... Roppye" ( Money .. Money ). My grandfather would offer him food in return. Sometimes Aziz would refuse rice and in turn ask for "noon Chai", sometimes he would leave without accepting anything, and yet sometimes he'd eat equivalent of three meals in a single go after reciting "Roppye .. Roppye".
Looking back now at things I feel that even our lunatics and seers knew how to benefit from promises of prosperity. In this case it being bits of torn newspaper.
