Gone. The saddest word in the language. In any language.”
― Mark Slouka, God’s Fool
One serene beachy morning in Bohol, a very unpleasant thing happened. I lost my phone on a bumpy road while driving a moped. I was driving to deposit SK, my partner to his ‘swim with the whale sharks’ programme that we went two days ago. I had planned to go to a nearby beach that morning to spend my alone time relishing a sunny toast and a cozy read to the side.
As I was saying bye to SK, I suddenly realised that my jacket pockets were empty. He mentioned he would call me when he was done and I nodded hesitantly but didn’t find the courage to break the news to him yet. I hurried back to retrace the roads that I drove a while ago. I went through the same path twice peeling my eyes looking for my phone and then eventually came back to the hotel holding a glimmer of hope that I may have misplaced it within the premises. Because I was certain I had it in my hand when I reversed the moped from its parking space.
The phone remained elusive. Nowhere to be found. And this fact wasn’t sinking in. I still believed I would find it just not sure how. I went to the reception asking them to indulge me with the security cam footage of that morning. I wanted to trace my actions as to what I did with the phone in my hand that morning. An hour ago.
The staff went above and beyond to help me and started to call my number hoping someone having found it would lift their calls. It rang for a few times before going silent right before our eyes. The panic slowly crept in. It was a helplessness that I was going to lose it. And that I had to accept it. The phone that should have been in my hand no longer in reach.
The staff connected me with their IT specialist online who guided me to login to my apple account. There would be instances in your life when even the tiniest details usually ingrained in your memory would escape you. I couldn’t recollect my password even after 3 attempts. With no breakthrough in view, I excused myself from the reception for my own clumsiness. I walked around the surrounding premises retracing my movements that morning. Just the day before, I rode the very moped for 40 kilometers, making various stops along the way, ensuring each time I used the phone, it was securely zipped back in my jacket. And today, I had failed to merely hold it down during a 10 minute ride. I felt so stupid. Foolish.
Returning to my room, I found myself in an idle contemplation. I opened SK’s work laptop and I felt an urge stir in my mind to type in my apple password.
I did. Correctly this time. I was baffled at my memory, so I decided to get back to the reception and see what the IT person was capable of. We keyed in the password in to the reception’s desktop and my knight in the night-shift tried to locate the phone through geo tagging?! Not sure, but it was an attempt in vain. All this while, Roger kept calling my phone and it was going nowhere, as if it was put to sleep. As a last resort, the IT guy sent a message to my phone stating it was lost and that the finder could call the hotel to return it. An iPhone feature. The moment the phone would be switched on, a loud noise would ring with a message plastered on its locked screen. Hard not to notice.
The reception guys surprised me with their chivalry all through while I felt reckless for wasting their time to my carelessness. So I excused myself again and came back to my room waiting for SK to reach me after his activity. I just believed that if he couldn’t reach me on my mobile, the next smart thing he would do was to call the hotel and ask them to patch me.
Having nothing to do at all, I sat in a coerced silence and opened my diary to pour my running thoughts. A deep sadness overpowered me. For a while it seemed too real that if I stretched my hand I would have felt the dampness in the air. To be honest, it was not entirely about losing an iphone. I knew SK, at the drop of the hat, would replace the phone with everything in it. I could hear him tell me that I wouldn’t even notice it was a new phone. But it was not about all that. Was it?!
It was about loss. Loss of things that I had. Loss of something that was dear. And strangely, even loss of things that I never had. The tears kept flowing. It was catharsis. It was not the morning that I had hoped for that day but it was anyhow freeing. I wrote a letter to my phone.
I told her not to be afraid. I wished her a pair of gentle hands that looked after her. If not as much as me. I trusted that she would be loved. Just not by me. I asked her to take care of herself. And one day, I asked her to find me. In passing. And when she did, I said I was going to kiss her. And warned her that they’d be sloppy wet kisses.
Loss is an interesting place. I hardly felt anything at first. As moments rolled by, the uneasiness swept in and slowly settled making room for itself. Without my consent, the mourning had begun. Not the one that ended in wails. But the one where my mind allowed myself to honour a trusted friend’s departure. It was unnerving. The silence grew so loud by the minute that I asked my mind to rescue me. With waves of incessant thoughts. So they would keep me company. I even wondered why I was not swept with anger. On the person who took something that was dear to me. It would have helped me to cope. Anger.
Not sure why it wasn’t the case. I called the years that rolled a culprit. They had either wizened me or was it my my exhausted body. I came to terms slowly that the thing I had was now lost. To someone out there. This someone was holding something that was once mine. I wanted to feel angry. Say words that I would regret later. Instead what I felt was an immense love protruding my soul, leaving me, flowing through and enveloping this new person. Who had my extended limb. I questioned on why this love was moving me with such force. The answer was a quiet silence in my mind. I couldn’t look at it. It made me feel small like I wasn’t capable of safeguarding my belongings.
What I was feeling was loss. Of all the things I once had. And of all the things I never had, but wished.
I felt this person and I now shared a bond. I knew I would carry him/her from then on in my thoughts. She’s his now. Like she was mine before. It was time I wished him well. And bid her bye. Departing is painful. But we had to go our separate ways from here.
Mobiles are so very personal to a person. They hold your life even when you are the person carrying it.
7th Feb 2023.
It was a while by then. I decided to freshen up, anticipating that SK might call me at any moment. As I got ready and slipped on my jacket, there was a knock on the door. It was Roger from the reception, an unexpected arrival just as I was about to leave. I opened the door and he as a matter of fact informed me that they had found the phone. And that my husband is waiting with the guy who had found my phone.
It turned out that the good samaritan who had come across my lost phone had read the message displayed on the screen and promptly contacted the reception. Around the same time, my husband had called the reception inquiring about my whereabouts. The reception staff decided to connect the two parties, so I would not be further inconvenienced. However, there was a twist — the person who found my phone insisted on returning it only to the girl who is featured on the lock screen’s wallpaper. Now Roger being the gentleman he was said he would accompany me to the place the action was taking place. So off we went to a petrol bunk some 10kms away from our hotel.
As I was parking my moped at the station, my husband gave me a grin and a much needed bear hug knowing that I might have taken a big tumble all by my own. I remained in disbelief all this while and thanked this sweet hooman profusely. Despite his protests, I insisted on offering him all the cash I had carried in my wallet, underlining the fact that it was a valuable exchange. It is another story that we spent the major portion of the day looking for currency exchange to much of Sk’s chagrin. But that’s a story for another time.
As I took the phone, I kissed her just as I said I would.
Moments when you are acutely aware of the inevitable.
When you know a frenzy is about to flare. A brewing storm. A feeling like there’s no turning back, yet a sliver of hope. May be a slight chance.
Trapped in an alley with no way out. Staring at a tiny window of hope. Anything. Mostly a reset button.
Afraid to open your full eyes. Because when you do, everything would come crashing down.
Rowing upstream.
An arrow poisoned with questions. A flock of raised eyebrows. Flames or just frantic gestures. And gaping jaws glowing even at night.
What does one need? What do I need?
To engage in a rage. To muster courage.
To fight an abyss. To solve a crisis.
Perhaps build me a fortress so I can rest and show my back for today.
