Auto, Wallet and I

I never used a wallet in my life, until I came to Gurgaon in 2006. In Mumbai, carrying a wallet in local trains was not advised. Instead I kept a small pocket diary in which I put a couple of currency notes. Never was my pocket picked in those 5 years of commuting. In Pune I continued the same practice and there wasn't much spending possible with the kind of salary I was getting.

After the mobile phone became a part of my attire in 2000, I started carrying a handbag in which I could put keys, papers, mobile and glasses. So again there wasn't any need for a wallet. After Gurgaon, I got on to online credit cards transactions and so gathered three additional cards and ATM cards. Then the wallet became necessary. But it never got inside my pocket literally. I still keep it in my handbag. Not many men carry handbags. According to my survey, the percentage never goes beyond 2%. But I am fond of handbags and I pick up one every year. I keep rotating the usage every 3-4 months. My current one was picked up from the Tibetan shop in McLeodganj a couple of months back. It has a traditional Tibetan motif of infinity and it is more like a zola.

While travelling by bus from Harihar to Pune, my handbag became a bit of an inconvenience. I couldn't keep it in the wirenet pouch in front nor at my feet. So I kept it in the overhead bin and dozed off. When the bus halted for a dinner break, I went for the zola and it slipped from my hands scattering its contents on the floor. There was my mobile, keys, wallet and assorted papers. I patiently picked up the contents and went outside to have dinner. My fellow travellers had noticed this episode. All of them looked typical wornout corporate executives - English speaking, courteous and generally keeping to themselves. Dinner was quick and frugal. I thought I could go back to sleep.

I kept the zola on my lap and tried to sleep. It didn't work. I kept it up again in the overhead bin. I had this slight hesitation. My fellow travellers had seen the contents. Some of them could easily eye the wallet. I pushed this thought away thinking that these guys are decent. I went back to trying to sleep. From time to time I would look around, but everyone was asleep. The bus driver had made up all the delay and we reached Pune ten minutes before time. I took the zola from the bin and found its flap was open. Did I not fasten it earlier? I wasn't sure.

I am one of the minority among Punekars who have a soft corner for the Auto Rickshaw Drivers. But I am a Punekar to the core. So I get into my element when the Auto chaps try to take advantage of the situation. At 6 in the morning at Swargate Corner, the Auto driver asks me to pay up Rs 150 to Baner Road. I tell him I will pay by the meter plus Rs 10. I raise it to Rs 20. There are some uneasy moments. But I stand my ground. There is a chap who is now ready to come at Rs 130. Its a deal.

Off we go in the snappy morning air. It's still dark out there. Now our man notices that his front lights aren't working. He keeps wondering how the light has suddenly gone out. Day break is at hand, so I am not worried. We zip into the apartment complex at Someshwarwadi.

He tries to tell me that even by meter the fare has jumped up to Rs 120. I calculate using my formula and tell him it is barely Rs 100 and I am paying him Rs 30 extra. I put my hand in the inside pocket of the zola to take out the cash. I knew the wallet cash had finished and so I would have to take it out from the secret reserve. Like all handbags, this zola from Tibet does have an inner pocket. As I pay him I find there is no wallet inside the zola. Panic grips me. The Auto chap looks into the Rickshaw and says, "You must have forgotten it in the bus". But I never took it out from the zola. Everything else is there, except the leather wallet given by one of my students many years ago. Leena had presented it to me with great affection.

All these chaps look so decent these days. They dress well, speak smoothly and now it seems, they flick with finesse. How foolish of me to keep it in the overhead bin? I came up carrying my bags and told my daughter that I had lost my wallet. I never keep better part of my cash in the wallet. Old habits haven't left me. My cash is kept along with some papers, envelopes and diaries, but rarely in the wallet. Its only the credit cards which always stay in the wallet.

My daughter immediately switched on the laptop and connected the internet and asked me to intimate the credit card providers of the loss, theft or whatever. I did not recollect the credit card numbers for three of the four cards I carry.

After the mandatory round of self cursing, I sat down to think of ways of recovering the card numbers. May be online banking? Yes, that looks good. Then the bell rang. The Auto driver was there with the wallet. I gave him whatever cash was there in the wallet. He said he had not opened to see the contents and asked me to check the cash. I didn't have to, because I knew it had only a few tenners.

He had gone out and kept thinking that he had seen the wallet in my hand. At some distance from our complex, he stopped and searched at the back of the seat and there it was, my red leather wallet stuck in the gap. It had slipped from my hand while getting down and taking the bags out. He came back and told the watchman. The watchman knew my flat number. That's how Raju Patil found me again. My wallet was back, my faith in Auto Rickshaw Drivers was reinforced and I knew Leena would not be disappointed.