My Lost and Found

Last Saturday it finally happened. I lost my wallet. I knew that something like this was going to happen to me pretty soon (not in a premonition sorta way, but because I kept lecturing the other two about their carelessness).  I knew it and accepted in philosophically. But in that moment when you realize that you have lost the things in your life that make you “you”, it’s just scary.  Without it, I am nobody; no ID, no money, nothing! I never had such a moment of absolute fear before. I stood on the road, my mind totally wiped out by this gut wrenching sadness.  I did not care about the money or the IDs or the cards but about the inane number of tiny knick knacks that it had, my memories tied to these horcruxes.

A ticket stub from Chennai, a metro card from Paris, a museum pass from Florence, a hotel key card, a restaurant feedback card, a boarding pass to Goa; each of them signifying a part of my life which I wanted to remember. P and S were talking about the practicalities of it all, blocking my credit cards, applying for another PAN card but I couldn’t bear to hear it because I lost all my memoirs. I can no longer associate with those events.

I thought I was very practical, but having lost my wallet it reminds me that the things or the events that make us the person that we are, however insignificant these things might be. The worst part was that I couldn’t talk about this loss lest the other two will start making fun of my sentimentality. I came back home around 1 after blocking all the cards and just lied down on my bed thinking of all those places and people that would forever be lost from my memory. I couldn’t sleep; it’s as if I was going to have lacunar amnesia about these events now that I have lost the connections.

I woke up from my state of stupor to my ring tone from Amelie at 6 in the morning; an unknown caller it said. I couldn’t even sparse the words he way saying, all I could understand was that he (the cab guy) had my wallet and that he was outside my apartment. I almost thought it was a dream until I got a call from my mother who went berserk shouting about my carelessness and how this guy had called my dad at 5 in the morning asking for my number. I literally ran out of the house to find this guy holding my wallet. I almost started crying there. The poor guy got my dad’s number from my Lucknow ID which I dint know was there in it (thank god for small favors). All’s well now but the fright I got for one night was enough for me to have a new phobia, fear of losing wallet (or is it memories?)