Predictions About a Village Girl
One Full Moon Night
Once upon a time ago, far into the 19th century, there was a girl who lived in a village high up in the mountains. The near-constant cloud cover mostly obscured the rolling ranges. But on a clear day one could see the ocean in the distance, and if the winds blew east one could even taste the salt in the air.
The village was a tight-knit community of mountain farmers who grew in the ancient tradition of the Vedas. They taught physical and mental health, phases of the moon, zodiac signs, astronomy and agriculture in the Temples. They had little understanding of the world beyond their peaceful world.
They raised their children as equals. No boys were better than girls. No family was richer than the other. They minimised karma. Dharma prevailed.
No one had more or less food. Every birth was a village victory. Everyone grieved for each death.
Poornima's parents named her after the full moon, celebrating the auspicious coincidence of her birth! The village celebrated till dawn.
They lit lanterns and set them off into the sky. They offered flowers and grain to the stream from the glacier. They allocated land in Poornima’s name, so one day she may farm it for herself.
The village was happy.
Poornima grew up with hard-working parents who raised her. But soon she couldn’t tell who they were. Everyone in the community took turns raising each other’s children. This was the best way to ensure everyone worked their share on the land, and no one went hungry upon harvest.
By age ten, Poornima couldn’t tell who her parents were. She knew them by name and house, but not by much else. She didn’t look like them enough either. She could have been anyone’s child.
Years passed.
The village grew and the village shrunk. Births, deaths and marriages carried on. Every 29.5 days the side of the moon waxed and waned.
Poornima was old enough to farm her land so she did. She was a diligent worker.
In the mornings, she went to the Temple where she learned about the grains, the Gods and the skies. After, she went straight to her side of the mountain and ploughed, seeded and fertilised the land. She built herself a small hut on the farm, where she slept. She became ready for harvest in the fall.
At 16, Poornima outsold every village farmer during festival season with her exceptional produce. After all, she was efficient. She built a hut on the farm to avoid commuting from the village everyday. It saved time.
She kept her seeds under glacier ice so they remained till she needed them. She fertilised her land with waste the temple threw away after celebrations.
The village gathered in the square with their carts and stalls. They decorated the square with lanterns and hung carved and dehydrated vegetables from the lines criss-crossing the rooftops. The smell of fresh produce made everyone hungry for the celebration dinner that night.
Poornima’s stall was the nicest. People came over to her often and traded their grains for her gourds, potatoes and fruit.
Some traded goods. People exchanged polite chatter. But no one said how well she had done for her age.
People forbade compliments. Compliments made people egotistical. It wasn't auspicious.
Poornima knew this, so she carried on. People she knew as parents traded on her stall like anyone else.
The celebrations ended with full bellies way past midnight. Poornima went back to her hut that night and wept. She didn’t know why but a strangeness had engulfed her for the first time.
Years went by.
Poornima was old enough to marry. She chose a boy in a Temple ceremony, and was married in the square. The village celebrated with them till dawn on a waning gibbous moon night.
Upon marrying they now owned two parts of the mountain as one. They farmed the lands together, and took turns sleeping in either one’s hut any night.
Eventually, Poornima and her husband welcomed twins. As their responsibilities increased, the twins spent much time apart, while villagers raised them. Every day she was away from her children, a strange feeling took over her. She often found herself sneaking back into the village to check on them.
As the months passed, Poornima grew somber. Not knowing what to do, her husband was unable to comfort her.
The rules of the village were clear. All residents were equals. Men, women and children worked, ate and lived in peace.
They taught peace as a life purpose in Temples, thus requiring sacrifices. No one complained. Everything was well.
Except, a full moon night (a blue moon) marked Poornima's birth.
On the night of her birth, something strange happened. The village elders gathered in the square. They asked Poornima’s father to join them.
Someone passed along instructions on how to keep the lady from entering into labor in hushed tones. They discussed tried and tested methods of midwives. They crushed the herbs and brewed the teas.
A child born on a full moon night will threaten the peace long term.
But try as the village may, even Gods cannot stop a birth. So that night after the celebrations finished, the village decided to ensure Poornima never knew anything different.
They established rules to keep her in check and enforce their values.
No one could ever speak well of anyone.
No one could speak poorly of anyone.
Other families would raise the children while the parents worked.
Temples would teach the children.
All must equally trade produce.
After the labors of the day on the farm, Poornima decided to retreat to their hut early making an excuse with her husband. She dropped off her harvest for the day, and headed straight to the village. Carefully, she located her first child, then her second. Both were playing in different yards where they were visible.
She entered individual homes and asked to pick up her children, as she had decided to finish early for the day. The request was a bit strange but not unreasonable, of course. The villagers let the children go with their mother.
Days passed and this continued each day.
Poornima would finish early and return to the village to pick up her children. The village elders started to notice but said nothing. When their family’s harvest fell by festival season, Poornima will have no choice but to return to her labors on the farm. Afterall, she had extra mouths to feed and the village rules stood firm.
But the harvest festival came and went, and Poornima’s produce was grander than ever. She had traded more vegetables, fruit and grain than the last three years put together.
This is what the elders were worried about.
Not breaking any rule in the guidebook, Poornima took possession of her children. She and her husband took turns in their care, and their duties of the land.
The Temples educated the children like they educated her, and as they grew older, they helped out on their farm. They had yet to plough the land allocated to them. But there will be time later for that.
Unable to enjoy this happy outcome for themselves, other parents in the village grew resentful. The village met in the square more often to discuss the displeasure among less productive families.
Fearing the circumstances getting out of hand, the elders called upon Poornima’s birth parents for help. Her parents had grown old. Unable to show her much love and affection to their only child their hearts had closed.
One morning, Poornima’s parents visited their hut on their land. The children had gone to the Temple for their studies and her husband was working on the farm. A clear day with the wind blowing east made them taste salt in their mouths. Something about that morning reminded the old lady of Poornima’s first day in the world.
Poornima welcomed her family into her modest home. After a simple exchange of stories and well wishes, the old lady asked Poornima to take her family and leave the village.
Poornima was shocked. But a familiar sort of strangeness had remained in her chest for years and she was expecting something. Perhaps an explanation of some sort.
The old lady said the ocean was only 30 kilometers to the west. A girl like Poornima can learn to fish, build a hut by the sand and live a blessed life with her family.
Poornima’s strangeness grew wilder. How did her mother know of the ocean at all? She spoke of sand and fishing. They did not teach this in the Temples.
Excusing himself, Poornima's father left their abode for a walk. The old lady told Poornima tales of fishermen and women who lived by the ocean. They were a welcoming sort of community, unlike this one.
Many decades past, when the old lady was a young woman, she ran away from the village. She needed to feel the ocean for herself.
There, she met a man, with whom she fell in love. But the man died in a storm and she returned with a large belly. Poornima’s father agreed to marry her.
Elders in the village knew this, but excused the mishap. But when the full moon night came along, they worried about the curse of the Gods.
The full moon never shone over mountain farmers and fishermen alike. In the midst of all this cloud cover, the village barely saw the sky despite being much closer to it. But the fishermen prayed to the moon for her light. It brought them luck.
Poornima’s heart broke, but the strangeness in her grew smaller. The community had experienced all this misery because her birth occurred on a full moon night. The celestial body had failed her.
So, Poornima and her family had announced their decision in the square to depart from the village. The residents had never experienced anything like this before, and it left them dumbfounded! Some even felt relief without fully knowing why.
So, off they went, as if leaving for pilgrimage.
Their farms were gifted to the Temple for their charitable ways. They demolished their hut. Farmer parents took back their children to care for them.
Days passed.
Word of a fishing village 30 kilometers from the mountains reached the farmers. A storm had hit them not long after Poornima’s family had settled by the ocean. The storm swept in a lucrative catch from a distant undercurrent, benefiting the community.
No devastation.
The catch was so profitable it opened the village up to the country for trade. Within a few short months the village became a town with markets, schools and fairs.
One community’s bad luck was prosperity for another. Poornima lived the rest of her life feeling less and less strange. Her children grew into adults with their mother’s affection.
They complimented each other on their accomplishments. They fished together for fun. The Gods had found a place for Poornima and she never looked back.
My Service to You
Lunar cycles govern the foundation of Vedic astrology. They ignite your Dasha systems and map your life purpose. So, beginning this journey with a sense of purpose is what seemed perfect!
For many years, I too felt a strangeness inside me that I couldn’t quite explain. Not fitting in was certainly part of it. After many winding roads the Gods found a place for me too.
I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life writing fiction. I can’t help doing it even now. But astrology came into my life like a storm with an unlikely catch.
Jyotish is a formidable study of the Vedic tradition and the greatest science ever discovered. It explores far beyond lunar phases. Tracking planets, solar systems, galaxies, black holes, and even the universe's galactic origins for microscopic predictions.
Once it found me I never looked back. Whatever I have learned so far is a gift from the divine source, and I do not take it for granted. So I fully acknowledge that nothing comes from me at all… I’m only a messenger.
So here is my service to you.
I'm humbled to share this knowledge to make a difference, whether small or large! I will post articles on my blog to explain the Vedic science in a way that is entertaining. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I love writing them.
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My dream for everyone that I serve, is to find their own ‘path to dharma’ or 'path to your life purpose'. My sincere hope for you is to find a place in the world that is less strange too.
With many blessings, welcome!
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