Scene: On a park bench in a small town in India, sipping tea and watching the world go by.
Ravi: (suddenly stiffening) Arrey yaar, just my luck! I saw only one mynah bird again this morning.
Arjun: (raising an eyebrow) And let me guess, now you think your whole day is doomed?
Ravi: Obviously! You know the saying—“ek mynah, dukh; do mynah, sukh!” I even turned around and tried to find a second one. Walked an extra two kilometres looking like a lost man with binoculars.
Arjun: (laughing) So you were essentially bird-watching under stress?
Ravi: Don’t mock it, Arjun. Last week, I saw two mynahs and boom—my client agreed to the proposal without bargaining!
Arjun: Hmm. Could it be because your proposal was actually good?
Ravi: That too, but the timing, yaar! Perfect alignment! And remember the day I slipped on that banana peel outside the bank?
Arjun: (grinning) Hard to forget. You fell in slow motion like a Bollywood hero. I was impressed.
Ravi: That morning—I saw only one mynah. I rest my case.
Arjun: Okay, Sherlock, let me try to make sense of this. You’re telling me a bird—who’s just out there looking for insects and bread crumbs—is somehow controlling your destiny?
Ravi: Not controlling—signalling! It’s a sign from the universe.
Arjun: You really think the universe is up there going, “Hmm, Ravi needs a sign today. Quick! Send out just one mynah to mess up his balance sheet”?
Ravi: It sounds ridiculous when you say it, but the elders always said it works. Dadi used to avoid going out if she saw a single mynah. She said it was a warning. I trust her instincts.
Arjun: I love your dadi, but I also remember her saying if we eat mangoes and drink milk, our stomach would explode.
Ravi: That one I never believed.
Arjun: So you cherry-pick your superstitions! Nice!
Ravi: No yaar, just… the ones that feel true.
Arjun: That’s the problem—feelings aren’t facts. Look, I did a little digging. The mynah superstition probably started because they’re often seen in pairs, and spotting just one might have meant something was off. But there’s zero scientific evidence that the number of birds you see has anything to do with how your day unfolds.
Ravi: Science doesn’t explain everything, Arjun. You and your logic… you don’t even carry a lucky pen to exams.
Arjun: Because I study for them.
Ravi: That too. But still—don’t you ever feel like some things are beyond logic? Like when you just sense something’s going to happen?
Arjun: Sure, I’ve had gut feelings. But that’s intuition, not the supernatural. Our brains are pattern-detecting machines. We remember when the one-mynah thing “works,” but forget the dozens of times it didn’t.
Ravi: Maybe. But it gives me a sense of control, you know? Like, if I see two mynahs, I start my day confident. If I see one, I stay alert, cautious.
Arjun: That’s fair. Confidence does affect how your day goes. But maybe it’s you making the day better or worse—not the bird.
Ravi: (pauses, thinking) Haan… So you’re saying it’s like a placebo?
Arjun: Exactly! Like when you take sugar pills thinking they’re medicine, and somehow feel better.
Ravi: Hmm. But I like sugar pills. They taste nice.
Arjun: (laughs) Fine. Then keep your sugar birds too, but maybe don’t walk into traffic just to find a second one, okay?
Ravi: Deal. But if I see two mynahs tomorrow and win the lottery, I’m dragging you to the temple.
Arjun: Fair. But if you don’t, you’re coming with me to a bird sanctuary—so you can get unlimited luck forever.
Ravi: (laughing) A lifelong subscription to good fortune! Not bad!
Arjun: And maybe we can finally solve the mystery of the banana peel incident too.
Ravi: I still blame the mynah.
Arjun: I blame your slippery chappals.
[End Scene]
Science Vs Superstition 
Tell Us What You Think