Destiny walked away. Nobody wanted to listen to her or to do what she told them to anymore. Everyone just went to one of the hundred astrology websites, typed in their names or dates and get a fortune reading almost immediately, depending on the speed of their internet connection. Even the so-called clairvoyants were doing that. Everything had been mechanized, automated.
“What are you doing back so early?” her sister Clarity asked when she walked through the portal which by all appearance was nothing more than a pool of clear water.
“Nobody needs my gift anymore.”
“But how can that be? Everyone has a special fate, a special message.”
Destiny turned her face away, as though in deep shame. “I am no longer useful. I have become unwanted,” and she covered her face.
Clarity grasped her hands to reveal her face. “Don’t say that. You must not say that. Without destiny there is no hope.”
“But what can I do? Everything is automated now. Even the calculation of the stars, and the reading of the cards. Everything has been rationalized mathematically. And everyone’s lifestyle is now adapted to that rationality.”
Clarity released her hands and turned the pages of a book as large as a dining table. “All these have not come to pass. If people stopped believing in their own fates as individuals, all these will never come to pass.”
Destiny touched one name on a page. “She was meant to be the mother of a great leader.”
“Where is she now?”
“She chose a career over her lover.” She turned the page then stopped and touched another name. “He was meant to be a teacher in a village in Cambodia.”
“Where is he now?”
“He works as a bank officer in Kuala Lumpur.” Destiny covered her face and sobbed. “I have failed.”
“They can still change their minds, and fulfill their calling,” Clarity said, though with little conviction.
“They might not. Many have not. Many have left the world broken, unfulfilled, unhappy.”
“Someone will take their place. Someone always does; for the destinies of the recipients of their gifts are still strong.”
The pool began to vibrate and hum. Immediately the two sisters fell on their knees and dipped their right hand into the cool surface which soon turned into a face. “Was it you, my daughter, who weeps?” a thousand voices said.
“Yes, mother,” Destiny said, “I am a failure.”
“No, you are not. On the contrary, people ignore you because they are afraid.”
“Why?” both sisters asked at the same time.
“Because every destiny comes with sacrifice. What is not requires no sacrifice.”
Clarity said, “Then the world will be fine.”
The pool considered her words for a moment then said, “Giving and receiving is what makes the world. You only receive when you have given.”
“What do you mean, mother?” Destiny asked.
“If a man does not give his heart to justify his existence he must give his body. If he does not give his mind, he must give his sanity. If he turns away from his fate then his reason for existing will no longer exist.”
Destiny crushed her hands together. “What can I do to help them?”
“You are not responsible for their actions. You only need to remind them about the work they have not completed. Their spirit will do the rest,” the mother said before fading away.
Her spirit renewed, Destiny plunged herself into the pool and re-emerged on the roof-top of a building. To one corner stood a lone man, smoking a cigarette and staring into the only portion of open sky in an area surrounded by skyscrapers.
She stood next to him and felt his sense of failure, of hopelessness. She leaned forward and whispered into his ear, “You can find good civil engineer work in Kenya. You are more than qualified.”
Slowly she felt something shift inside him, giving him a sense of lightness. Abruptly he threw down the cigarette and stomped on it as though to crush out something more than the smoldering embers. Then he strode back into the building. Destiny stood on the very spot where he was, and she felt the air clear and she saw the sky open as the buildings began to disappear one by one. Soon there was nothing but grassland. She could feel the dirt under her feet, hear the sound of trucks pouring out gravel and smell the diesel fumes coming from the other machineries. She was in Kenya. But then the dust cleared and the breeze changed direction, and she found herself back on the roof. She let out a deep sigh. It is his choice, she decided and moved on to look for the next person.
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