Lost Talisman of my Wallet

It came as no surprise to many but a dire shock to me when during my decent from a U.P. transport bus., my till then faithful wallet was besotted by a prestidigitator (a mere pickpocket cannot pick me) and took my leave. My numb ass, revengeful and treacherous having been burned, boiled, bruised and numbed under the combined action of north Indian heat and heat conducting seating raised no alarm during the act reporting the crime only upon being interrogated by my hand. Before this commission had completed its inquiry the result was out, as always. The Indian system literally seeps into you.

With nothing but action to my aid I followed that crummy old, variegated rusting bus whose number had been washed as a testament to the monsoons it had endured. Ironically for a bus of above description, tilted to the side of the passenger’s door, under the effect fatigue, cruelly metallurgical, it ran fast. For a vehicle that took half an hour to cross five sectors of noida, cleared the next five in ten minutes, as if my wallet was a baton for their relay. Conveniently no passenger had to alight in the next few stops. I am sure the driver and the conductor were a part of the racket but to think of all those people…

I never gave up pursuit though my oversized (given the contents) bag stymied my chase which ended in catching the bus in an auto rickshaw. It gained nothing for in the land of cycles and elephants, buses cannot be expected to be honest. In summation: I lost my wallet during a bus ride. It was gone. Poof!

Now coming to the curing mode the first question my uncle asked me was: What was in that wallet? The first thing I thought of was: screw! No, I am not using such language because of my frustration but then things must be told in the correct manner. Here in I introduce the most important things that I lost: my talismans.

But let me end before I begin. I lost money, that what wallets are for and though the significance of the amount will vary from one reader to another for me it was paramount because it mirrored a defeat. Hard earned by my father it made me in my eyes a pain in my parent’s neck. So that’s it. Answer to what was in that wallet but that is for sure not the way I answered it. But let me list them first before I tell about the lost talismans’. So spoils of this war were: driver’s license, money, two ATM cards! But some of them are also talismans so I will repeat them in the order I thought of them in my retreat march across the sectors of the city. First I thought of that screw, long forgotten, with magical prowess beyond reasoning, never fully demonstrated or understood. But this is one I will cover later if at all because it is most difficult to explain even for me.

So beginning the journey in my mind through the recesses of my wallet; my old, rusty brown coloured, tattering, torn at places, slightly bend to the shape of my ass, never having place for change, and now lost wallet. Now that I write I find it closely resembles the bus.

Just below my misused, without gear, Lucknow issued driver’s license, used in Raipur with five geared racing bikes, were two coins. Never used, safely kept, one smaller, plumper, golden wealthy in terms of value, other octagonal, large, and lacking luster. Perfect reflection of our society.

The wealthy coin of rupee 5 had a logo of the commonwealth games held in Delhi. The place and time of their receiving is also important. I got it in the host city, on the opening night of the games, in October. Why would I preserve a coin bearing the logo of one of the biggest dishonest and corruption ridden undertakings? How did become a talisman?

All because the logo was at back and things are opposite there. For me it represented the time when for the very first time in my life I got completely honest with myself. Alpha and Omega. Beginning and endings. End of trying to fool myself into perceptions and notions I found novel and seeing things as they were, and surprisingly finding them more beautiful. Alpha and beginnings, omega with endings.

The second coin, priced as two by the RBI, had the bust of Sardar Vallabh Bhai Patel and somehow the coin stuck with me. I just never spent it. It gave me a strange sense of responsibility.

A deeper search led me to the transparent compartment, unused and unopened. It had the receipts of all the speed posts I ever sent. No I would be lying here. It had receipts all right but not of all the posts, but those whose contents never received a favourable reply. Of application forms, scholarship and research requests for baccalaureates and many more. It would be hard to explain why I kept them. They were tokens of failures. Frivolous.  Maybe a caveat to my baccalaureate ambitions. Interestingly, or maybe strangely the ones that received a triumphant replies were shredded by my bare hands and found themselves in the heap of the weekly room cleaning campaign.

That old, loyally faithless wallet also had a diary. A small phone and address book which stored much more. A companion of the times I did not have a mobile and read the numbers off it as I dialed them in dangerously claustrophobic phone booths. Neither the diary nor the numbers it stored so carefully were exactly in use but it was the talisman of memory and nostalgia. It came to my aid one rainy day as I stood with punctured cycle and a soaking, tattering ten rupee note. The faded ink and the translucent paper spots mark the point where rain hit them as I dialed from a booth.

Then was the talisman of communication. Sim cards. Keeping me connected. Some would objectively disagree with the ‘talismanisation’ of a mere sim card, given their ease of acquirement and abundance, but for me it was freedom and bondage. Letting the kite fly a little higher. Talisman of moonlit nights and dark shady days. Of being able to letting someone know you are not well or helping them when they were not. Of unseen tears and vicariously true smiles. Talisman of aphroditic voices and shrill songs. Refusal of HR’s in conversation and waiting calls of final selections. Of anticipation and fun.

And then there was a screw, the most powerful of all, a real talisman that could work with time. No this terminology will not do in present context. It would mean the opposite. It could not work with time. It manipulated time. Yes, and in sooth its powers were never realized. Nor can they be. It lies with the wallet. Unknown, unvalued, uncared for. Maybe it will self destruct. It cannot be used just anyhow.

Who knew some scraps of paper and coins could hold such power. I did not. The funny thing about talisman is that you can know what a talisman is only when you have lost it. Tragic, but true. Omens and talisman have a deal. One confuses and prepares, working on or mind and another works silently, steadily, loyally for you. One is present in the open, discussed, debated, other in the dark, like a secret, a secret even the secret keeper is unaware of. Omens and talisman. Alpha and Omega. But from the opposite. Things are always different in the opposite.

My still loyal mobile (a device/talisman?) had a new message. My offer letter had arrived, and if rumors were to be believed a new bag and wallet from the company is a welcome gift along with it. Or maybe we will get it during joining. A new wallet. Omens change with times, and maybe so should talisman’s.

A new beginning, new talismans.

Alpha and omega. Omens and talismans.