Closure

Last week I lost my phone. It was not a high end- expensive smartphone. It was just a simple Nokia phone. And it was not my the first phone to have any sort of feeling. Then what made it special? Well, it was Glossy-Pearl-white and looked like a pebble, with perfect contours as if the time had shaped it. No dent and could handle three days of battery life, 2.4” color screen, and QWERTY keyboard. In simple words, It was poor guys Blackberry device. Timeless and antique. For sure it was out of the market and buying it again was nearly impossible.

Losing such a beautiful crafted piece of tech was saddening. Every time I saw that small pin charger, it reminded me what I had just lost. Little did I know when I lost it, where I lost it and how I lost such a precious. I couldn’t remember where I last kept it, maybe because I was surrounded by this era of the social network, online message popups’ and nonsensical slang like Wassup, Hmmm Hmmm, kkkk and counting dots to end a sentence... Or maybe I was deep down in hypothetical Well of Applications and assumed I can’t live without LTE internet. It was utter self-disappointment and carelessness. I had no one to blame but me.

Was the phone had important contacts? No. Or Was it had old images? No. Was I using the phone number? No, but one of my bank accounts was linked to that number, I changed it once I was sure. Maybe it was important because it was a symbol of simplicity. Whenever I was overwhelmed by the smartphone fiasco or big fight with someone, I used to go back to that phone. You know just swap the SIM cards and WhatsApp messages and video calls would come to cease. It was like a safety net or imaginative mountain top where I felt I was a hermit and provided mental Peace. Many times, when my so-called “smart” phone died, this old guy had my back. It was my insurance or standby phone. Only my closest family members had that contact number.

The last thing I remember about that phone was holding it and just admiring it and feeling proud of having it while walking down the streets of office premises. After two days I remembered to charge the phone, alas it was not in my bag or in the laundry. Searched everywhere, but no sign of it. I rang the phone, it was out of courage area.When you are in love with something and next thing you know, puff disappeared in time. Maybe that’s life. With hollowness and coming to terms with what had happened, my smartphone helped me make that final call, to the Customer care.

--“Mobile is lost, please block the number.”

--“No it was not stolen, it was misplaced”

--“Yes, the phone number is 7738644520”

--“No that’s it, thank you for all the service provided”  

You know, these little things make a big part of happiness than we realize. I had no closure for a couple of days. I hoped someone should handle it with care and pride. I hoped I might find the same phone someday if all the faulty stars align. That stupid small pin charger made my day worse. Some part of me was missing.

Will this story ever have a happy ending? Today,  like any other day, totally oblivious of how my last week had been, I was walking down for dinner, I got called up at the gate. Yes, guards found it. Felt like, a dead person coming back to life, miraculously. They had it for few days and didn’t know whom it belonged. Finally charged it and found my dad’s picture in it. They knew my dad and so that’s it, the happy ending to a harmless story. Just feeling contented and closure hence I found.

So the moral of the story, if you lose something, first check at Lost and Found. Second, your parents or loved ones will find ways to help you even if they are unaware.

PS: Still don’t know where exactly I lost it, guards at the gate didn’t tell. But, I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.