As a visitor to Bangalore, I do not usually get hit by any disturbing event. In fact, my past visits have been pleasant. The purpose of my visits has been merely to visit family and friends. This time, however the black cloud (yeah, the one that randomly victimises you or someone you know) found me within minutes of ending a very comfortable train ride — executive class on the Shatabdi from Chennai, November 23rd.
On exiting the Cantonment station about 10:15p.m. I rang my cousin who was to pick me up, then my mobile went in its pouch clipped to my belt. Two minutes later I was on my way to my cousin’s in his car. So far so good. Being a senior citizen, I can imagine all my kith and kin worry whether I’ve arrived here in one piece! My hand goes to my waist for the phone. No phone. Panic! Where the hell did it go? What’s with the vanishing act at the crucial moment? Walked around like a chicken with its head cut off looking for the errant object here, there, here again, there again, any and everywhere it could hide from me. Noooo phone! Damn! 11 pm. The cousin, his wife and yours truly hopped in the car, raided the railway station in search of the Elusive One. The stray dogs watched the three hunters cover every square inch of the relevant area. We listened to advice and suggestions from all and sundry present. No phone yet! Not even someone else’s lost mobile.
After an hour and a half, we were ready to drop it and go home. But not before alerting the service provider and getting them to stop all outgoing calls from that phone; registered the loss and had them ready to issue a new SIM card with the same number. And not before making more than a dozen calls to the lost phone (which by the way patiently rang and rang. And rang. No one answered. Where was the damned thing?
One of those sundry advice givers sagely said to check with the station police the next morning. Duly noted. Next day arrives. My new phone, Android in its soul, did not magically materialise near me when I woke up.
But the next best thing happened. We got a call from someone saying they had a phone showing a lot of missed calls from this number, did we lose a phone by any chance?, Mr. G. Samaritan had turned it in the previous night. And oh, I am a police officer at the Cantonment Station. Soon it was established that I was the one abandoned by the ‘smart’ phone with the new touch screen and all the cool features. We arranged a time to pick up the scheming little thing. Thus the day started well and ended with my writing to your wonderful publication.
My salute and thanks go to Cantonment Station sub-inspector Mr Narayana, police officer Mr Thippesamy in aiding the distressed old guy, and the blessed Mr G. Samaritan for making my life whole again. A million thanks. ⊕