Saturday, September 16, 2006

Mixed blessings

The theft of my cellphone was a classic example of mixed blessings. I confess, I'm feeling lost-hopeless and 'oh!just-not-like-myself'. I feel like a hunter without his weapon in this concrete jungle. It indeed was a foolproof weapon when it came to give signals to friends, talk to near and dear ones from places like a toilet seat or a mountain top, and talk to 'no one' when it came to avoiding unwanted people standing right under my nose! :)

The trip to the police station was a new lesson in temper management. It taught me that the suspects and the complainants just differ by the number of insults they're fired at. "We'll decide later who was the most careless slob, but let's first complete the formalities to block the SIM card, lest it gets misused" was what I spoke when I should have said, "I agree I should have been wide awake in the dawn with a bouquet for the thief, trying to dissuade him in the least violent way. (BUT FOR NOW, REGISTER MY COMPLAINT, PANDU!!)"

I was deeply touched by the compassion and the naïvetté of the theif who didn't slit our throats to facilitate his cause, and failed to value the laptop which was lying in that very room. The guy needs to be more gizmo savvy. Better luck next time!

"243 contacts, including two dozens of celebrity numbers, two police officers, two gifted musicians and a divine arranger, and so many other friends!! How do I go around finding these numbers again?"

"Ama chhod na yaar!! How many of these ACTUALLY mattered to you? Wasn't it you who grudgingly saved some of these numbers just to wish greetings, formal announcements and occasional Hi-how-are-you garnishings of formal-yet-as-informal-as-possible conversations? 'Networking', as the world calls it? You've got a ready excuse to 'make a new start' with some of these!"

Fortunately, I have two dozens of numbers on the tip of my tongue, numbers of people who matter the most. Blood relations, my immediate boss, best friends, who have given me a LOT in life, and who will rush at my call at any hour! Effectively, I've lost just a handset.

A handset that was programmed in Hindi! Would the thief even understand that 'Kunjipatal sakriya' meant 'Keypad active' ? Let alone navigating through the Hindi 'Meenu' to reach the 'Bhasha vikalp' to 'Chayan karein' the laguage option of English? A handset that rang self composed ringtones!

The only memories that remain of the phone are the ringtones of the Hindi-Marathi oldies that my mom got tailor made for her phone.

But well, these can be created again as the ringtones, the 'dearest' numbers lie on the SIM card of my heart, which can't be stolen. There's a lifetime to rebuild the lost contacts and be a 'contact' myself. The phone just left showing me a long way to be walked! What I'll really miss is the text messages that fueled me through trying and lonely moments reminding me that I'm worth being loved, again and again! :( : :)

So, though the decibels around me have fallen, I can live a few happy days without worrying about the RADIATION cardiac muscles, sperm count, and whatever is left of my brain cells!

The cherry on the cake was a trek to Lohgad, amidst pristine natural beauty and natural sounds. I heard the sweetest chirping ever. Surprised by it's close distance, I turned at the source of the chirp, which was the Nokia 6600 of a fellow trekker! Welcome back to the world!