THE master of guile was once a fairly successful architect. One day, as a tribute to what he learnt at college, one of his buildings in Malad fell. Recession and common sense among the general public brought about hard times. He had a choice to 'reorient' his home as per Vaastushastra, but he went a notch ahead. He became a Vaastu consultant.
Looking back at the years of well-being, in the backseat of his car, he confirms that Vaastushastra promises prosperity, at least for Vaastu consultants. The demand has been so overwhelming that, "even I've started believing in Vaastu". But slowly, he is noticing a change. A Chinese art of architecture, Feng Shui has slipped out of the bookshelves and is making an impact. It has been a soundbyte for a long time. Now it's found gurus. And gurus always find disciples.
Vaastu's rigid tenets and the quacks are slowly driving urban India to Feng Shui, originally the art of selecting a burial site for the dead. It was later used to make the living live better. Feng Shui, in rough translation, means wind-water, but it deals with many more components. It has a striking resemblance to Vaastushastra, in terms of positions, dimensions and colours. Where it differs from Vaastu is that it has 'corrective' measures that save walls and doors from being broken down. If Vaastu asks one to do away with a door that is positioned in the wrong direction, Feng Shui advises one to place a mirror to neutralise the 'negative energy'. So, in a city environment, Feng Shui is winning the battle. What adds to its virtue is that these are early days for quick-fix consultants to make a killing. Says Dipalle Parmar who practices Feng Shui. "It's very personal. It has different solutions for different people. Vaastu is too theoretical to be practical. Feng Shui operates on instinct. When I enter a house, I feel the vibrations and make changes accordingly by placing crystals or wind chimes or plants or other icons. These icons reflect positive energy". The fee—between Rs 2 to Rs 2 lakh—is important because, "there has to be an energy-exchange for Feng Shui to work".
To a great extent, Feng Shui operates at the mystical level. One of Dipalle's clients, a model coordinator, was suffering from many problems. Dipalle identified the source of her hardships as 'negative energy' sent by someone. "We sat in my office and communicated with the sender," says Dipalle. Then they sent 'love-energy' to the perpetrator. "The problem was solved." Anupa Mehta, an art consultant, says she noticed a Bagua mirror placed on a door in a way that reflected negative energy to her office. "So I placed a mirror on my door to counter the effects."
In the history of the Han dynasty in China, there is an episode called the war of mirrors. It started when people started using mirrors to reflect 'negative energy' to their neighbours, who in turn used mirrors to reflect the energy back to the source. Soon, the community waged its war of mirrors till the emperor ordered all mirrors in the kingdom to be smashed.
The hidden mysticism puts off Arvind Vaze, practicing advocate and a Vaastu-Feng Shui consultant: "Feng Shui is becoming popular for the same reason that yoga became popular when Maharishi Yogi made it a fad in America. We Indians pick up anything that is a craze abroad." He admits Vaastu is rigid. "That's why I combine the two." But worries that people practice Feng Shui in India after reading a few books. "It's dangerous to apply half-knowledge." Agrees Manoj Kumar, a Vaastu consultant: "A Feng Shui master should ideally be spiritually advanced, to understand the forces that operate. Do you know Feng Shui is banned in China?"
Yet there are many here who are grateful to the Chinese. Says singer Shankar Mahadevan whose house is 'Feng Shui-positive': "This was my new home and I didn't want anything to go wrong. The vibrations have been fantastic. I think the proof of Feng Shui is in the living." Meghana Edwankar too is enthusiastic. She says she couldn't sell a plot couldn't sell a plot for many months but after Feng Shui, "we sold the plot in a fortnight".
It seems urban India goes for Feng Shui for the same reason that it goes to shrinks. It is a solution that presumes there is a problem. Bhavesh Wadia, who is new to the line, understands this new age cure-syndrome. "We go to a middle class family. The family has three unmarried daughters. The father is a retired bureaucrat whose attempts at starting a business have constantly failed. And, there are health problems too." Bhavesh enters the apartment block, shaking his head. "The staircase is anti-clockwise," he observes. Is it good or bad? "It depends on the family. Let's see."
As the door opens, there is wide-eyed welcome. Bhavesh gets to work. He asks the family to take down points. There is an air rifle on the wall. "These symbols create fear," he warns. Then he asks the household to shift the furniture around because, "there is no balance of energy". And the toilet is stealing a lot of energy. He asks the family members to clear the clutter, "...there is clutter in the cupboards, in the loft, everywhere...so there is clutter in your minds." But one of the daughters, an electronic engineer, is searching for rationality. She asks "why?" every time Bhavesh lends a slice of wisdom. Bhavesh smiles wisely as though the 'why' will be answered soon. As we leave the house, the family looks hopefully at Bhavesh, for they want their father to be healthier and eligible men to meet the daughters. They want Bhavesh to bring cheer to the house through an art, originally used to select burial sites for the dead.
