to be always organized, careful, alert is a sign of mediocrity!

Now I have it; now I don't.

The art & science of losing, dropping and 

forgetting stuff comes naturally to me. I always marvel at myself and wonder how I could be so safely unbeatable at it, without getting any formal training or taking tutorials for the same. I must be really gifted. That's all I can say! I forgot my little sister in school and cycled home 
without her. I started very young, you see!

I am equally adept at losing liquid assets.  I drop money at the drop of a hat. I do feel awful, cringe, promise myself to be more careful in the future, kick myself  for being so careless, but if you think I don't repeat, you have another think coming. What is worse is that I get over it and move on, much to my own dismay! However, when it comes to silliest and stupidest of things, I get hopelessly sentimental and foolishly emotional about every scrap of paper, fabric, book, strand of wool, paint, pen, pencil, slippers from my son's college, little gifts/notes received from my children or a mug I may have picked up for home, so you can imagine at how deep the pain of losing stuff is for me.  My heart bleeds; I feel  as if it's end of the world; I just cannot live without. I cannot bring myself to forget. I bemoan the loss every time the memory comes aflutter. I'm  incurable.

I could create a mini directory if I were to record each and everything that I have lost in life, every place that I have ever lived in, some advert; some inadvertently, because others did not value it as much and did not empathize with my sentiments - that they are my security blankets; give me a sense of well-being; familiar stuff that grows old along with you is comforting.

Like,  my correspondence journal which I maintained ever since I discovered the joy of writing letters from the age of 8 - all of its 5000+ neatly indexed mail exchanged between practically every living relative, friend, friend's friend and acquaintance of mine replete with catalogued reminders in case of any unexpected delay. For me,  it formed the most precious part of my trousseau, notwithstanding my little aluminium school case containing my sketches, poems and writing.  And, then it was gone, forever! Just like that.

Or, when, my wool, paintings, sketches, products, books, suitcase full of old & new outfits, savings, jewellery, hand-knitted stuff being prepared for exhibition went out for reasons unknown.

Going back to my own sheer skill...

these are a few of my lost things...

Dropped $40 I had on me while waiting for a bus at 5.30 am in -30 degrees; looked at the watch and thought wisely that getting a cab would be more sensible as it would save me time to locate my destination on the first day at my first job in a new country (Canada); hailed one, only to realize that I no longer had any cash on me. First, I had to let the fact sink in. Second step was to convince the cabbie of the truth in my seemingly coined (pun intended) tale to get a free ride.  To say that I panicked would be putting it mildly. Third, I had to figure a way to pay the tab. I ended  up borrowing money from the boss himself. Not to mention, that I first had to go around enquiring as to who was my boss was, quickly introduce myself, and then burst out with my made-up sounding story, asking for loan, promising to return the next day, all in one breath. The fact that my new boss, did loan me $ 40 to pay off the cabbie was not out of any compassion, sympathy or understanding the gravity of the situation. It was more because he was too bewildered, taken aback, stopped mid-track by a rambling, panic-stricken, hysterical Indian woman, when he was so preoccupied setting out schedules for the newly hired.

Another time, I took a local bus to go out on an errand. As always, I

checked the stops, bus nos., timings, 
online at home and made notes in my little diary before stepping out. I had to change a bus en route. My transit stop came. I got out in the middle of nowhere. It was freezing, but that was not the only cause why I stood frozen for the next 10 minutes. There was a feeling of Deja Vu. I had forgotten my bag with all my cards, money and my so painstakingly prepared notes in the bus. There was not a soul in sight. The sky was threatening to open up any minute and soak me up. To add to my plight, I had no clue about my whereabouts. Marvelling at my sheer talent once again, I did some thinking. I crossed the road and stood at the stop for a bus coming from the other side. One finally did arrive. You have to give it to the country. The bus driver contacted the terminus, enquired, yes there was a bag fitting my description left in the bus, the driver was traced, the lost and found department tracked down while I stood there cringing. I was told to stay put there. A bus would come in one hour with my bag.

I should be kicked for this, but now that my bag was found, I decided to rejoice in the winter rain for the next hour. And true to his word, a bus with a 'not in service' sign came to a halt, asked me to step inside and  have a seat. The driver apologized for my long wait, requested me to check my contents, and wished a nice evening ahead. Job done, bus did a u-turn and drove away. They took pains to find out, retrieve, drive an empty bus for 10 kms to give me my bag, for which I should have been actually spanked.

Now, once aboard a Toronto-bound flight, I made myself snug and cozy. I had an enjoyable, relaxing flight - read, dined & napped. The voice of the stewardess announcing, "hope your flight was an enjoyable one" woke me up. I gathered my belongings, tied the ends of my new camel-coloured jacket smartly around my neck, picked up my magazines, rolled my baggage, disembarked, queued up for customs, and stepped out into the fresh Toronto air. Reached my apartment. Untied my jacket only to realise that the camel-coloured fabric around my neck had not the remotest semblance to a jacket whatsoever. It was the airline blanket instead. Do you think, the curious stares I got from the crew, airport staff and the cabbie had anything to do with this? Needless to mention, being the same colour, I picked up the blanket instead of my jacket on my way out. Had it smartly tied around my neck for the next 5 hours without realizing anything amiss.

Shelling peanuts while waiting for a metro, then chucking the token instead of peanut shell in the bin, cost me Rs 85 to get out. 

Going by my past record, I should be hanging everything around my neck.

Whiz at making receipts, bills, dry-cleaning receipts disappear from the face of the earth. Depositing my bags and forget to collect them; if I do remember then unable to find the token. I have spent half of my life losing & finding stuff. I could go on and on...

If you guys wanna lose, drop, forget, get rid of anything, mortal or immortal; material or immaterial, just inbox...