#04 - Key of Misfortune

Holiday beckons to a new place, a new town. Being in Pondicherry for a much-awaited holiday was the right physical disposition for continuous excitement. The very fact that I was off work, fueled my happy mind with good thoughts. And to augment this were a bunch of charged up children around me.

The family toured around the quaint little town which once in its glory was a full French Colony. I groped around in failed attempts to peep into the past glory. May be the anxiety of bring free from the hustle and bustle of a crazy city got my mind twitching in laziness. As the evening set, plans for dinner roared in every conversation. With a few places shortlisted, we drove in my brother-in-law Arun’s car to ‘check them out’.

I was off the wheels and relaxed. These are the few precious moments when you sit back and not worry about the approaching traffic or the impatient bike riders in their best attempts to fit in next to your car. But occasionally my driver's reflexes got the better of me compelling me to press my feet hard again the ground in anticipation of a speed breaker. Aha! It took me a while to reset my mind with polite words – ‘dear, you are not driving, just relax.”

The family finally settled in a small yet crowded restaurant which was more of a café by its décor. The open oven seemed to be in full gusto, churning out pizzas back to back. Lovely food and drinks ended the merriment. None of us had the clue that all that went well need not end well.

While I assembled myself together with my belongings to move out of the restaurant, something was missing! My car keys! I searched around only to tell myself that I might have left it in the hotel room. While in Arun’s car, I made a few futile attempts to pad my pockets again and look around in the car for the keys. Once back at the hotel, I saw my car parked on the road side – perhaps getting some rest after the tiring 390 kms drive from Bangalore.

Worry engulfed me when I did not find my car keys in the place I kept it in the hotel room. The search began with all family joining in to my rescue. An hour passed and I racked my brains had to trace back every hour to when I last handled the keys. Pressure was mounting from all sides to “think where I might have left the bunch”. Our search team split into three – One searched our room, while the other searched my sisters room. The third however ventured around the hotel had the key bunch fallen off on the road. All convened in 45 minutes with no sign of any happy face. There was no inch of land in and around the hotel which was not scanned. With my wife making gradual moves on my nerves, I started losing the battle in my mind. But Mr Ego was adamant not to accept the “careless” branding.

At midnight we made a desperate foray to travel back the same roads between the restaurants we had been. Luck seemed to be in its midnight slumber and keeping us on our toes awaiting an exclamation after a 'great find”'. By the time we reached the dinner place, it had already drawn its shutters. My wife was gripped by helplessness which even made her hold on to the last few straws on the internet. Flash updates on Whatsapp groups and Facebook brought in some genuine online folks who offered few remote solutions.

My disgruntled soul retired to bed only to a disturbed sleep attempting to think of the exact drop time/place. The action around and within was too much for a sleep and thus the night passed in tosses and turns. To add to our woes was Sunday. Yet the Hyundai rescue personnel assured us help but at a visiting cost of Rs 350. There was only one person who could be our saviour! Yes God indeed. And so we rushed to church for a quick prayer. “Jesus give dada’s car keys.” said aloud my 1.9 year old son who ran to the alter with stretched hands and what was definitely sheer innocence.

Gloom had enveloped me in a tense binding. Back at the hotel the Hyundai handyman got ready with his tools to break up the car door and begin his mission. A minute and he would have started that my wife told me to give a blind try by calling the restaurant where we had our last happy time. Will this be the last nail on my coffin? Signaling the mechanic to wait, I made a fast move on the mobile phone buttons. Two sentences down my conversation with the restaurant staff, the voice changed to a woman whose English was music to my ears. In a clear tone, I heard her affirm, “yes, we found a car key with a key chain that has a red cross!”

The news caught me in a stupefying chill. A sigh of relief followed. The rest of the holiday went smooth with numerous references of my harrowing mishap.