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By the time you read this I would have started on and completed the first leg of my journey.  This is my second foray into Mumbai on my own. The first time, the city gave me a spectacular welcome. I certainly hope there is no repeat performance. My bag was snatched, and I lost a lot of stuff, some of them of no value at all to the thief but of immense value to me.

Granted that the phone and iPod in it would have got him money. But just what the heck would he do with a pair of glasses for astigmatism? He’d only trip and fall (I hope he did!) if he tried using it, and with my right eye in a much worse condition than the left, he’d be looking at the world all cockeyed. No one would buy it off him. So all in all a dud proposition. But for me it meant everything. I had to endure a long ten days of not reading anything till I got back home. Imagine my plight of having to sit through a flight without reading and no music to listen to?!

Then there was the handwritten story sent by a friend. Once again, useless for a thief, unless he was someone with secret ambitions of being an author, but with no real ideas to pen. If that was the case he’d probably put his name down as author and have the story published. In case the story turns up anywhere in the world, we’ll know the identity of the bag-snatcher or his accomplice. Oh, yes there was an accomplice too, the one on the motorcycle who sped away once the deed was done.

There were the many cards, bank (which anyway would be immediately blocked making them useless for everyone concerned) and ID, the last leaving me with no proof to take the flight back home. And of course that piece of memory I carried around in my bag wherever I went. Very precious to me, but useless to the thief. But then, such is life.

It, that loss, reinforced a lesson I already knew. Life goes on. You may lose the things you carried around as mementos of special occasions that meant everything to you, but none can steal the memories of those same times you carry in your heart. And what’s in your heart suffices. Always.

In spite, you bet this time I’ll be taking special care of my bags. 😉

©Shail Mohan 2017

 

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