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The Golden Find

2/24/2018

6 Comments

 
He was a well-known journalist. He was also a good journalist. He took pains to gather facts, weighed them rigorously and presented them impartially. Even though an editor, he modestly referred to himself as a reporter, harking on the journalist’s now-forgotten first duty to report facts. He lately got some minor recognition, part of which was a press association gift of a watch. A golden watch with a golden band.
Picture
​Sadly, he never used it once. Shortly after receiving the gift, he also received a terrifying verdict. He had Alzheimer’s. With ferocious alacrity the disease attacked his mind, then his body, until his whole life was a shambles. He never wore the watch; he had lost the ability to read it. It remained pristine in its original box.
 
And so it stayed for years, lovingly preserved by his wife. She couldn’t bear to part with it, associated as it was with pride in his accomplishment and sorrow at his hurtful end. Then her mind changed. Her husband was not one to hoard assets. In fact, he always urged her to make use of things or get rid of them. She put in new batteries and made the watch functional.
 
It was at that point, while visiting India, I told her that I had lost my watch. She brought out the watch case and presented it to me. It was a lovely watch. It never occurred to me to think of it as a hand-me-down gift. I thought of it as a badge of honor.
 
I carried it everywhere with me. It went to Mumbai and Manizales, London and Las Vegas. I liked it and I liked using it. Careless as I am, I never misplaced or lost it. It stayed and became a part of my life.
 
Of course, it came with me when I visited India this year. It went through several security checks with me at various airports. Security rules and standards vary enormously, and sometimes I was allowed to keep wearing it and sometimes I was required to put it in a tray for machine examination.
 
When I was leaving India, at Delhi airport they asked me to empty my pockets in a tray and then, noticing the watch, suggested that I place it in the tray too. There was a very long line. People were impatiently pushing predecessors to finish their check quickly. I just had time to go through the physical scanning and then quickly pick up my jacket, document pouch, handbag, laptop, cell phone and assorted contents of my jacket and trouser pockets. 

Picture
​I was well in time for my flight. An hour later, waiting in the boarding area, I looked at my wrist to ascertain the time. I realized with a shock I did not have my watch. It must have been left in the security area.
 
Disconsolate, I walked the long way back to the security area. On the way I asked two security guards what I should do. The first one was highly skeptical that I would get any results. He said that there were thousands of people going by and the watch must have disappeared by then without a trace. The second one was even more emphatic. He described my effort as a wild goose chase and said that a striking gold-colored watch would never remain unnoticed. Some passenger would have taken it or even a security official might have pocketed it. A long time had already passed and the idea of retrieval was, as he said, a pie in the sky.
 
None too hopeful, I walked to the security area anyway. Then I realized the enormity of my endeavor. There were several counters; I had no idea which line I was in or which security officer had examined me. If the person had looked liked Deepika Padukone or even Shah Rukh Khan, I might have remembered. No such luck.
 
I explained my problem to the first security officer who condescended to look at me. He asked, “Which line were you in?”
 
“I have no idea,” I honestly replied.
 
“We have a help desk, over there. Go there.”
Picture
With little hope I went to the help desk and met a somber looking six-footer with a less-than-kindly face.
 
“What kind of watch?” He asked with a stony face, and I realized I was about to begin some long, fruitless bureaucratic procedure.
 
When I had given a description and mentioned the brand, like a magician he placed his big fist on the counter and opened it without a word.
 
It was there. My watch was back!
 
I will never again listen to people who claim all public officials are corrupt and all police officers are looking for graft. I have a sparkly golden band around my wrist that says honest public officials still exist, one just has to be lucky to find them.

6 Comments
Alpana Ghosh
2/24/2018 20:18:32

Manish,
Thank you! Your story brings back so many memories, so many untold stories! It means a lot. The two words 'thank you' are not enough to express my emotion.

Reply
Manish
2/27/2018 06:43:46

Many thanks, Alpana. I am glad the story meant something to you.

Reply
Kashyap Ray
2/24/2018 20:31:18

The world is full of honest people who have saved the system. These people are shadows. I have always been helped by them.

Reply
Manish
2/27/2018 06:44:51

You are so right, Kashyap. There are lots of good people; we just need to identify them. Thank you for your comment.

Reply
Narasingha Sil
2/26/2018 19:11:41

Dear Manish:
Your cock-and-bull story fortified with your make-believe image of a President 18K gold watch with 18K gold bracelet is as fake as its Chinese replica. You know what? You write about batteries to operate it. That's bull. A President model of Rolex is automatic and it's a chronometer (not a chronometer) It's not a quartz but mechanical movement timepiece. In fact all Swiss made Rolex watches are mechanical. I once owned a Datejust in part 18K gold and part stainless steel. And it was a chronometer! Your current post moves in the same surreal quagmire as do your usual posts referring to your personal experience, all very touchy and adorable. It's alarming! Telltale signs of dementia. I mean well for you, one of my very first backbencher buddies during our freshman years at the Presidency.

Reply
Manish
2/27/2018 06:52:31

Nara, Clearly you know a lot about watches, but you have missed the point of the story. I used for this blog -- as I use for many of my blogs -- a stock photo, and I don't give a damn about whether a watch requires batteries or not. My story is about something quite different. Incidentally, I wasn't ever a backbencher, not in Presidency College, nor anywhere else. Thank for your comment anyway.

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    Manish Nandy

    Writer, Speaker, Consultant
    Earlier: Diplomat, Executive


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