Mobile and ME 👏

 

I have this penchant for losing my mobile.

The skies have opened and raining cats and dogs, not letting up. Rains and my mobiles just love each other. Or rains and my losing mobiles have an effinity.

Last year, just the day prior to my departure, I lost my mobile.  It slipped out from the pocket of my windcheater. And, as  I almost immediately realized this, turned back to find an absolutely road empty. No humans. No animals. No objects!

I requested a person known to me to call my number and of course, as expected, it was switched off. I panicked. My visa, passport, tickets, everything was in that phone!

For a while I was absolutely incapable of thinking.

I called my younger cousin and he said make a police complaint. Where was the time for all that! It’s six o’clock in the evening. My flight is at 10.30 a.m. next morning and I still had to pack.

The alternative – a new mobile; new sims in lieu of the earlier ones, same numbers of course. Back home, I logged out from my Google account from all devices. Finally as I concluded this task, Usha calls up from the USA asking me, “Tera phone kho gaya?” [Have you lost your phone?}

This was something. How did she know?

She said, someone sent her an ‘Hi’and she, smart woman that she is, wondered why I would do that. So she called my number and the person at the other end told her that the mobile was with him and I should call on a particular number.  So I did. And the long and the short of it was, early next morning we went to Chembur and got the phone back. Thank God! The flip side was that, having purchased a new sim, I could not get text messages up to 24 hours; as a result, no WhatsApp and no notification from the airline! Thus was my trip to UK. On landing, during the 2-hour long queue for immigration, I could finally communicate with people.

A sight of relief!

But do I learn a lesson.

Of course not.

It's September this years and again the rain gods haven't received their due respect from me. Suddenly, as I was sitting by the sea, enjoying some music at the same time on my ear pods the skies opened and I had to run for cover. As the rain didn’t abate I asked a rickshaw driver to reach me to my car some way off. He dropped me right next to the driver side door. I huddled inside, started the car, music still playing. 

And suddenly – silence. 

Now what. I realized the phone was missing. And I panicked. Not again!

What was I to do, so far away from home!

I told myself to calm down. Think.

I recollected the roadside vegetable vendor, Pawan Verma. I drove up to him and getting down in the downpour rushed to him and requested him to make the call to my number. He assured me, “Madam, agar auto me hai, to aapko mil jayega.” [If it’s in the auto you will get it back]

The phone rang through and stopped. I tried a second time, just….

This time he picked up and soon as I said a tentative “Hello….” He blasted me.

“Aap log aise phone chod jaate ho. Passenger ne abhi mujhe diya. Main to abhi station aa gaya hoon. Kyon karte ho aisa. Aaap kidhar ho….” and more in the same vein. [You leave your phones in the auto. The passenger has just given it to me. I have reached the station. Why do you behave so? Where are you?]

All I could do is keep repeating “Sorry”. Then he asked me where I was. Pawan, the veggie guy, gave him the location and told me, “Aap gari me baitho madam, bheego mat.” [You sit in the car. Don’t get wet]

So I sit waiting. Long wait it feels like. Nothing to do. As I look out the man is on the mobile. After sometime I step out and he tells me, “Main usiko hi phone laga raha hoon.” [I have been trying his number]

Finally, again he took the call. He identified his location and said he would be reach in about ten minutes.

And he did. 

Again a well-deserved catechism. I kept telling him sorry and thank you, alternately.

Then I offered him a Five-Hundred-rupee note. His entire demeanor changed -  shock and unbelievable happiness.

Like he had got a windfall!

“Itna de rahe ho madam.” [You are giving me so much]

I assured him, it was really nothing compared to what he had done for me. We have all our information, our memories, our connections in the mobile…getting it back was sort of getting a part of me back.

Thanking him profusely and the vegetable vendor, too, who also I shared some money with, I left.

The world survives on the good souls.

[Sucharita]