Robo says...

" Aao aao suno apni bhavishyavani, suno apni aage ki kahani…" His voice, like a mystical chant, echoes through the evening chaos of Juhu Beach. In the backdrop of the setting sun on this vibrant beach in suburban Mumbai, Uday Kumar, about 27, is inviting people to come and listen to some soothsaying.

He is no self-made astrologer, no chirologist, no tarot card reader with a rose-ringed parakeet. Instead, he stands there with a small, roughly foot-long robot wrapped in decorative lights, sitting on a mysterious black box that stands on a four feet tall foldable table. “It’s called Jyotish Computer Live story,” he says, introducing this reporter to the robot.

The gizmo can analyse the individual's vibrations, he explains, handing over the headphones connected to the machine to an intrigued customer who has just walked up to him. After a brief pause, a feminine voice, speaking in Hindi, will unravel secrets that the future holds. All for 30 rupees.

Uday is the lone custodian of this technological marvel he inherited from his uncle Ram Chandar, who had moved to Mumbai from his Gendha hamlet in Bihar some decades ago (and was known as Raju in the city).  Each time his uncle returned home he brought with him stories of the city. “ Chacha [paternal uncle] told us that he has got an ajooba [a strange thing] that can tell the future, and that is how he is making money. Many laughed and thought it was some joke. I was fascinated!” recalls Uday. Raju had introduced his 11-year-old nephew to the wonders of city life as well as that of the machine.

Uday’s parents, farmers toiling on a few bighas of land they owned, often faced financial distress, which had pushed him to leave his education after Class 4. The thought of helping the family financially was also on his mind when he decided to leave his home in Bihar’s Vaishali district and join his uncle  Raju in Mumbai city. He must have been in his teens, he says. “ Woh machine dekhna tha aur Mumbai bhi [wanted to see the machine, and Mumbai as well]!" Uday sounds nostalgic.

The machine his uncle used was crafted by artisans from Chennai and Kerala and made its debut in Mumbai in the late 90s, recalls Uday. Raju chacha had met one of the artists and got the machine on rent to get a hand in the business.

“There were nearly 20-25 people in this work,” says Uday. “A majority  them were from the southern states, a few were from Bihar and Uttar Pradesh. They all had the same machine.”

Like Raju they all roamed the city with the curious apparatus and Juhu Beach held a special place for these itinerants. Uday tagged along with his uncle as he wandered across the city. A fourth of his uncle’s earnings went into paying the rent for the machine. The machine was too expensive to buy, about Rs. 40,000, when Uday’s uncle Raju started his business. But eventually he bought it.

Uday could never manage to learn the tricks of making this robot despite many attempts. He inherited the robotic fortune-sayer only when Raju passed away many years ago. Uday saw himself as carrying forward the tradition that had once captivated his imagination.

A decade ago people paid Rs. 20 to get a glimpse into destiny, a number that has inflated to Rs. 30 in the last four years. The Covid-19 pandemic dealt a blow to his business. “Many people over time left this trade,” Uday says. He is the only custodian of this mystical relic after the pandemic.

Uday too finds it difficult to survive on the earnings he makes with the machine alone. His wife and five-year-old son live in the village, and he hopes to get his son to study in Mumbai. He does various odd jobs in the morning – clerical work and even selling pamphlets. He is willing to do any job he can find. “When I don't get any morning job, I can always stand here with this robot and make some money that I can send to my family,” he says.

Uday stands on the shores of Juhu beach from 4 o’clock in the evening till midnight. In any other place he would get fined he fears, and it would be difficult to carry the machine.  Weekends are his best days for business when he gets to decode the cosmic messages for many more eager seekers than usual. On those days his earnings could be anywhere between Rs. 300 - 500. All of this amounts to Rs. 7,000- 10,000 a month.

“In the village, people believe in astrologers, not machines so there is no good earning,” says Uday speaking of his failed experiments to convince his fellow Biharis from the village of the mystical power of the machine. Mumbai is the place for his business, he claims, although the fortune-telling apparatus is more a source of amusement and is viewed skeptically by people on the beach.

“Some find it funny and laugh at it; some get shocked. Recently a man was laughing in disbelief as his friend forced him to listen to it but later, he was impressed. He told me that the robot knew that he was going through some stomach issue and that he shouldn't worry much. He said that he in fact had stomach issues. So, there are many like these that I have met,” says Uday. “Those who wants to believe can do so.”

“The machine had never faltered,” claims Uday with a sense of pride in this testament to its mysterious resilience.

Has it ever stopped working?

If it does there is a mechanic in town to fix the wiring around, informs Uday.

"I believe what it says. It gives me hope to carry on with my work," Uday says. Though he is not quite reluctant to reveal the future teller’s words about his own life. "There is magic inside and I still get fascinated by what the machine says about me. I will not tell you to believe it. Hear it for yourself and decide,” he says with a laugh.