LOST AND FOUND

I was searching for a name in the Face Book. The pamphlet that contained the name was on my writing table. Fortunately for me, I did not have to spend my time searching for that and it was right on the table. It rarely happens. In my life time I would have wasted a major chunk of productive time, in search of misplaced articles, robbing me of my precious leisure and pleasure, giving in its place lot of pressure. I always regret why I fail in keeping things at appropriate places to obviate this repeated, frequently.

Actually I had already undergone this exercise in the morning itself. But it gives me another pleasure, I find so many things I missed out on my earlier jaunt. Yesterday, I bought two small batteries to activate the mosquito repellent bat and after having removed the batteries from the polythene cover, I confidently put my hand under the cupboard where I usually keep. It was missing. I searched evading my gimlet-eyed wife, as seeking articles hiding due to my carelessness unnecessarily invite unwanted and humiliating comments. .I found out very much to my delight, a valuable find that I thought, as bad as lost. I was searching for the cover page of the first edition print (Feb.1966) of Richard J Whallen’s ‘The Founding Father:The story of Joseph P Kennedy’, which got peeled off the from the rest, that was a source of great relief to me. This has happened so many times, that I prepare myself for such serendipitous findings. Today, at my wits end, I yelled to son, daughter and wife. Nobody responded but my wife charged me usual "you have no fixed place for anything, you take one from here and throw it elsewhere and start bragging, the next time you need, create turmoil with your short-temper and I am put up with all these for the last almost 25 years. If you are badly in needing, search yourself, I don't care". Familiarity breeds contempt. That is what is happening now. I have to live with it. Shortly we are celebrating our silver jubilee of our marriage.

One incident comes to my mind at this moment. Some years back, when I was a day trader, dabbling in shares in the stock market, about to leave for home, after the market hours, I lost my mind as to the place where I parked my Scooty. With the key in my pocket I searched here and there. I searched at all the usual places but nowhere to find. When I asked the security staff he offered only his empty hand. I was bitterly confused and completely blanked. Standing in a corner, I churned my memory. After a long thought, I got it. A loser ought not to lose more. So when I left home, to save fuel, I had walked all the way to the trading floor, contemplating my strategy for the day. I had, most probably walked on the air.

In this instance, I cannot but praise the alacrity of my wife. Some days back, my wife went to her native place, for two days, leaving us to fend for ourselves. These are the days. I felt exactly as the character John Perkins in the short story, 'The Pendulum' by O Henri. I missed her a lot during this period and back to square one, once she returns. But this incident is one I cannot wish away from my mind.

It was about 8'O clock in the night. My daughter, after her coaching class, would be waiting for me after the class. I was about to leave. Oh! My ignition key was nowhere to find. I searched my pant and shirt pocket, inside, on and underneath the table and furniture, no where...I was feeling the pressure. At any time she may call. I had a duplicate. I had no idea about its whereabouts. By 'providence' my mobile phone was in my pocket and as a last ditch effort, I called my wife. Two or three times, she did not respond. I called her sister. Then also it elicited no response. I called in the land line, again no response. Time was ticking away. I ran out check if I had left the key in the bike itself and once more, to check if it were left somewhere nearby and also checked the passage in the dim light, everything in vain. Thoughts running wild, I imagined I would have dropped the key inside the space under the seat, pressed and locked forever. Rainy season and extremely flash flood prone area, where the coaching centre is, where you will find yourself immersed in neck deep water, all of a sudden, kept my anxiety unchecked.

My mobile started ringing. I thought my waiting daughter is calling me. No but it was my wife. Raging with anger, for her failure to respond but controlling myself, I grudgingly but calmly, whether, she has any idea about the duplicate ignition key. No time to hear and with stand a long dialogue and as if it is my right to know and her duty to keep anything safe, I urged her to be quick. After a few seconds, my wife calmly replied, "it is in the kitchen cupboard, on the right side, of the third rack, inside the fifth Horlicks bottle." I ran in, it was right there as she told.

I never go out without a pen in my pocket. Therefore, I pulled the table drawer. Beneath a folded sheet of paper was sleeping my ignition key, unperturbed. The adage applicable to me stood the test of time. Search for one and you will get the one you searched earlier. A life less thing that can only ignite a two-wheeler flared me up and kept me on tenterhooks for nearly half an hour. This event made me very disciplined in this respect and I immediately, pasted a hook near that cupboard, where the duplicate dangles permanently.
I reflected over this after return from the coaching center along with my daughter. My son happily waiting in the front of house after enjoying his evening fills in the nearby hotel. Had this happened some twenty years ago, I would have been all at the sea because of my wife’s regional slang. I would have pulled my hair and ran amok, like a wild elephant. She was more used to Central Travancore slang then, she would have told me “...... in the cupboard on the west and on the south of chilly powder tin and east of fourth of Horlicks bottle, to the south of sugar jar.”
The easiest one and the one you never have to indulge in searching is the modern ubiquitous satellite aided gadget the Mobile Phone. Either you lose it forever or you blame yourself for leaving it on the switched off mode.