Most of us have lost something or the other – by our own carelessness, by absent-mindedness, by sheer bad luck, by the actions of nefarious persons, and due to a whole host of other reasons. Not accounting for the outcome of the loss, the process of getting back the lost thing is often an experience by itself (both positive and negative, and on a spectrum between the two); but it’s always nice (and a relief) to find whatever went missing. The title perhaps gives away that the following accounts were of successfully recovering what was lost, although I hope they are sufficiently dramatic to enthral the reader.
My sister and mother had been to the market to do some routine shopping, and had travelled there by (motor) scooter (the good old Kinetic Honda! This also provides a rough idea of the timeline). They returned to the parking only to find that the scooter wasn’t there! After some frantic searching in nearby parking areas, the realisation dawned that it was stolen. So, they went to the nearest police station to file a complaint. They had hardly gotten near to the station, when they saw a policeman pushing a black scooter; could this be theirs, then? A closer look confirmed that it indeed was! The policeman explained how he had obtained the vehicle: while on his beat, he had noticed a youth pushing a scooter. Curious and a tad doubtful, he asked the lad why he was pushing it away from the direction of the nearest fuel station (the most plausible reason for doing so, he’d deemed). The chap immediately dropped the scooter and made a run for it! It was a most serendipitous way to have recovered the scooter. After quickly providing some identification, the policeman handed over the scooter and it was a win-win situation for both parties – it spared my sister the hassle of filing a formal complaint and enduring an agonising wait for news of the recovery, while it saved the police some paperwork and having to actively pursue the criminal(s).
Another incident involving a scooter occurred with my father. He had been on one of his regular visits to the Ragigudda temple, and had parked the scooter close to the temple gates. While descending the steps of the temple, he casually put his hand in his pocket and to his horror, it was empty! The scooter keys had gone missing. Confident that he hadn’t dropped the keys anywhere inside the temple premises, he quickly dashed back to the scooter. The keys were still in the ignition! It was a truly providential stroke of luck. Gratitude was expressed in divine utterances and by a donation to the temple’s trust.
While travelling, sometimes one just forgets about a bag or belonging, as if it had never been brought along. I have heard about such incidents several times from other people, but I recently experienced it for the first time myself. I was travelling by bus between two countries and the journey duration was relatively short (about an hour and a half). I had to have the cabin suitcase stored in the luggage hold as it wouldn’t fit in the overhead storage. This wasn’t the first time I had to do this though, so it was surprising why I strolled out of the bus (as if without a care for the world) when I reached my destination that morning. It was a good 10 minutes later that I realised I was missing my suitcase, as I made my way to the hotel. I ran as fast as I could back to the bus station, but it was too late. The bus had departed for its next stop which was in a neighbouring country, and would reach its final destination almost 14 hours later! I filled out the bus provider’s online ‘lost and found’ form, and contacted customer support to follow up. I was told that it would take 14 days for them to get back to me! (their standard operating procedure). I started looking up the schedule of the bus route, to check when the route number returned back to where I was; I found this would be in the evening the following day. My only hope then was that the same bus would return, and that the suitcase had remained in the bus. Reading similar stories from other people online (this is where the world wide web really shines) gave me optimism that I would be able to retrieve my bag. In the worst case that I couldn’t, I was also thankful that I had only forgotten my clothes, as my valuables (passport included) were with me in my backpack. The next evening, I made my way to the bus stand with a cautious sense of optimism, but also having reflected that I was still in a privileged position, compared to people who become refugees overnight or lose all their belongings in a natural calamity. As I was waiting for the bus to arrive, I spoke with a supervisor of the bus company who largely repeated the customer service representative’s message that it was out of their hands, and was also pessimistic by saying that there was no guarantee the bag had remained in the bus as the driver could’ve offloaded it at the destination. Anyway, I could do nothing but wait and see. The bus finally arrived and as the luggage hold was opened, I strained to see if my bag was there in the dimly-lit space. And then I spotted it! It had been kept in another section of the hold. It was a genuinely uplifting moment, and I thanked my lucky stars. I explained the situation to the driver who asked for some identification to be given the bag. I duly showed my passport and breathed a huge sigh of relief as I was handed the suitcase.
It’s not only belongings that go missing. It happens to people too, and kids are especially at danger of getting lost. When I was a few years old, we had been to a busy shopping complex with many stores. Taking advantage of a momentary lapse in my parent’s awareness as they concentrated on the shopping, I wandered out of the shop through the back door and into the bustling market. Luckily for me I hadn’t gone too far and my worried parents were very relieved to find me absorbed in a candy store 🙂
My sister similarly induced a panic attack in the family when she once went out to play. The kids on the street typically gathered in and around the neighbouring houses, so once when they ventured to another street without having informed the adults, naturally that triggered a frantic search by the parents, grandparents and other family members. My sister loved to pluck the flowers of the Gulmohar tree and attach the petals to her fingernails. The trees on the other street had low-hanging branches with blooms, which had attracted the kids’ attention. As the gang happily made their way back to their homes, they noticed the search party and realised they were in trouble. A few of the children slunk into their houses, but my sister couldn’t evade the family and was given an earful for her (mis)adventures.