I used to be a faggoat

‘You are an Aquarius,’ a childhood friend once proclaimed, and I was hooked. As a kid, I immediately subscribed to the idea that our lives are determined by the stars. An avid reader of printed news, I would take time reading through the daily horoscope, plotting my days according to the lay of the stars, seeing how the predictions fit into my daily life. I’d read the frontpage, the komiks, then the horoscope, and maybe the opinion page – the editors of PDI surely had wise words to share, but could they be wiser than the stars?

Everything crashed down when, years later, I made a discovery: I was a Capricorn. I never bothered to understand how the whole thing works,and relied on the assessment of my friend (I was doing his slum book then). Suddenly, all the incidents that only the stars could explain became arbitrary tragedies and random moments on joys. I still feel the urge to apologize to friends for committing an error in answering their slum books, although to put things in perspective the actual perjury is in the ‘your crush’ entry.