Hari Prasad was the most sought-after man in the marketplace. He was a palmist who was roumored to be the best in the village. All he had to do was staring at the faint little criss-crossing lines on someone’s palm for a little while. The client would listen astounded, as the palmist laid his life history bare before him. One day, in the middle of one such session, Tenali’s boy came running to Hari Prasad’s shop, “Uncle, come home immediately. Someone broke into your house and stole all the valuables.” At this, Hari Prasad leapt to his feet and began to run very fast. As he ran home, everyone in the vicinity watched him with surprise. “Hey, he should not be running so fast,” said someone, “surely, he knew this was going to happen.”
“How on earth could he have known that?” asked another person, “Do you think the thief served him a special notice that he was going to be robbed?”
“No,” said the first man, “But how could Hari Prasad not have foreseen his own fate? And that too, a theft in his own house!”
