A bitter-sweet week-end…

Let’s blog more about some everyday details of our life now !

Ok so this week-end was a bitter-sweet one. Yes !

On Saturday, we took the little ferry down from our house, crossed-over to Versova and took a rickshaw to Linking Road down in Bandra to go to its fashion street. We wanted to shop for some indian outfits for our little visiting girls, Bethany and Charline. So 5 of us in this little rickshaw was enough to keep you sweaty and concentrated on the driver’s skills. But we love our rickshaw times together. It’s our little bubble in the midst of the traffic. The driver worries and we just try to relax and absorb.

So yes, at destination 45 minutes later, I managed to forget my backpack in the BACK of that rickshaw when we unloaded. It completely went over my head. It’s only an hour later, wanting to stop for coffee, that I realized I had no backpack on me !

You know how it works then, right ?! Times takes suddenly another pace in your head and life turns into a slow motion act. Your brain sends you back the images of the steps you went through at the moment you actually threw that bag behind you instead of putting it down in-between your legs. But what were you thinking about ? Why ? Well I had a little girl on my lap, I couldn’t ..end of thought. Next.
You actually keep trying to find the other missing image, the moment where you picked up the bag again on your way out, but you can’t seem to find it. The electricity emitted by all your nerve ending trying hard, your synapses desperately exploring the remote areas of your memory is making your temperature rise. You start shivering. You can’t believe you are that stupid and that spoiled in life to possibly let go that many valuables at once!?

The thought process is changing and you are now trying to see how can you get the bag back by catching the rickshaw driver again. From slow motion things turn to full speed again. You are agitated. You want to cry and shout at the same time. Your mouth stays half open with little noise coming out of it, you can’t really talk. Your arms are going above your head, on your head and down again. You move quickly in the middle of the street. 20 rickshaws pass you by on your left and 15 more on your right. You are in the middle of traffic. You want to stop them all, they are wondering what is the white guy doing discomfited in the traffic. Your heart is pumping blood in all corners of your body in hope of keeping your oxygenated. Your despair is growing steadily.

You know, you know you lost your bag probably for ever, but your cortex cells are still trying to find a solution ! What was the driver’s face, name or plate number? Did you treat him right actually? Could he feel remorse for a nice guy and return the bag to you ? Silly. But you smile a little bit nervously because you realize you gave him a good tip and exchanged some cordial gestures and words with him. But would it be enough? You are still a perceived rich white guy for him. How could he find you even he wanted to, actually ? Go back where he dropped you or where he picked you up ? Does even anything in the bag shows your identification ? A surge of hope. Yes ! You have your work id card in the external pocket of the bag. On it is the address of your work with numbers and everything. If he has integrity you can hope for the best. But then you remember a little talk you had about him while he was driving and someone realized a had a head twitch every two seconds. He kept running his finger under his nose nervously and you remarked out loud that he could be an addict of some illegal substances. What made you sad for him back then is making you miserable right now. People are poor enough in India to not return your bag but being a possible addict on top of it is sealing your case.

Oh well, nobody died, no broken legs, not even hurt feelings. You lost some material belongings. Expensive ones for sure, but life goes on and somebody hopefully made some money selling your stuff to somebody else in this gigantic megalopolis.

Actually you know what ? This week-end I might even go wander around Thief Market in downtown. I was told between 5 and 6am everything gets sold to the street merchant in 15 minutes. I could potentially buy back my own camera and lenses from the local photo merchant if I’m lucky !

If not I’ll consider this forever the biggest gift I have given a little street man and I will take home the lesson again that the more stuff you have the more you can lose !! Ha !
But I love the take pictures, so I might still try to get another camera. Pardon this time, it will not but consumerism but only passion.

‘Til later.

Peace.

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2 comments so far

  1. Saints and Sinners on

    Mr. Kerosene Traveler,

    I live vicariously through you, no doubt about it. As I sit rotting away here in LA. I am excited you started this Blog my dear friend. I am excited to keep tuning in to see where your adventures take you. Be safe and be well!

    ciao.

    p

  2. LA in LA on

    An elephant painting to remind you that nothing is as it seems :-)

    Keep watching to see what she paints :-)


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