Feeling Lucky

A woman's bag is like a living breathing oragnism, which contains everything she is. And losing the wallet feels like a piece of you has been torn out of your being. The post #206 When someone returns your wallet | 1000 Awesome Things brings fresh memory of losing my purse.

Every year during the monsoon season, around this same time, just before Ganpati starts, shops lined at Marine Lines - Roop Kala, Kala Niketan, Queens Emporium, Roop Milan - have a huge sale on saris and dress materials, before they restock their shops with the new collection for the wedding season in November.

While studying for my post-graduate degree, I had a bunch of cousin's getting married. My mom and I were looking for outfits for the various ceremonies in that crazy-crowd clawing for the finest pieces. In the frenzy, my bag was picked, and my wallet stolen.

As a student on a shoe-budget, losing your first metro-pass is more devastating than the tattered wallet with 50 rupees. With it went my ATM card, driving license, visiting cards, good luck charm, contact numbers of friends (pre-cellphone commonly). More than angry, I was shaken by the invasion of privacy as the thief peered into my things.

A couple of days later I received a call. A lady had found my wallet under the seat in a train. She'd found my number in the phone book, and wanted to return it. We agreed to meet at Bandra station, where she changed trains, on her way home from work.

Except the money, everything in the wallet was intact. Of course the ATM card had been already blocked. She was a shy young lady; after handing over the wallet she simply began to walk away, not even waiting for me to say 'thank you'. I did thank her profusely. She shrugged and said, "There are so many things we carry in our wallet. I thought it was important for you to have them back." She climbed into the train, and we went our separate ways.

That is life in the metro, Bombay.