The Little Red Wallet

 

Life is a wild ride, with its highs and lows, some gains, some losses, some ebbs, some flows. Some things we expect to happen and some things wildly unexpected just happen to us. The way to enjoy this roller coaster ride I have learnt is to sit back, relax and most importantly listen to your gut. The little voice inside us that guides us, nudges us in the right direction and often saves the day. 

This is a story about a time when I was totally tuned into that voice inside me. One Sunday morning, I was about to go and spend time with a couple of friends at a Market near the Gare du Midi. This market has several stalls selling vegetables and fruits, plants, cheap household items and also clothes. It was to be a regular morning where we three women could spend some time together and also maybe manage to pick up some good deals. 

On my way to the market, the red wallet in my handbag, unusually for me, had 45 euros in cash. Two notes of 20 euros and one of 5 euros. I had to stop on the way to give the 40 euros to someone for tickets I'd purchased for an upcoming event. Initially I was thinking of making the drop on the way back but for some reason, I forced myself to go and run the errand before reaching the market. Then I took the tram and reached the market. I knew it was the little voice at play. 

Everything was fine and we were having a good time moving from stall to stall, examining articles, laughing and trying our haggling skills as all true Indians do. However, after about an hour into the shopping spree, I realised that the zip of my handbag was open. When I put my hand into the small handbag, the red wallet was no longer there. I naively continued to move my hand in the small space, hoping the wallet would magically make its way into my hands. No such luck! I told my friends about it. I guess having lived from Mumbai for so many years and not having to travel regularly by public transport had weakened my defense instincts. 

Unfortunately, the stall where we were at was crowded and we looked around but couldn't see anything. Despite my general unease, I somehow knew that the red wallet wasn't going anywhere. The stall owner said that unfortunately pickpocketing was very common and I could wait till the end of the market. That would happen in a couple of hours and I would surely find the wallet. Only the cash would have been taken. I decided to do just that. I calmly called my husband and asked him to block my bank cards. There was nothing else I could do at that moment and so I consciously relaxed. I tagged along with my friends who treated me to a lovely sandwich in the market and then they headed back to their homes. After saying our goodbyes, I refocused on the red wallet. I laughed at my good fortune that the cash lost was only 5 euros and remembered being compelled by an inner feeling to complete my morning errand before coming here to the market.

I trained my eyes on the ground while people were starting to pack up the stalls. Some small trucks were in the premises to take away unsold items. There was a lot of paper and carton trash everywhere. I kept feeling that the story with the red wallet was not finished. I turned a corner and right in the middle of the pathway, standing between the heaps of paper and organic debris on either side of her was a smartly dressed police woman in a blue uniform. She was standing with her side facing towards me, so I was looking at her profile. One of her hands was on her waist and clenched in it was my red wallet, bright and shiny. I knew it. I had felt it. This one was not lost. I walked up to her with a satisfied smile on my lips and told her that the wallet was mine. After opening it up and checking the photo on my identity card which was still inside, the red wallet, albeit without the 5 euros, made its way back into my handbag.

My gut instinct had served me well today, first to pay off the cash I had and avoid losing money. Then to get my little red wallet back. On all counts it had been a successful, fun-filled day indeed.