LOST AND FOUND=PURSE

Our life is full of incidents-big or small, happy or sad, important or unimportant but there are some incidents that completely change our outlook towards life.
Trouble was ringing in my eras the day I took my driving test. And it gave a loud bang the day I received my driving license in my hands. The sinister in disguise was the postman who delivered the registered post in my hands. When I held the license, the symbol of authority, the sign of maturity, it was happiness that was plashed all over my face. I do not know whether it was an adrenaline rush or a mere “break the rule” feeling that urged me to take my brother’s mean machine onto the road. As it came into life under me, I felt exhilarated. Not even bothering to change from my “domestic wear”, I slipped my license into my purse and slid it into the side pocket of my pants. I hit the pocket road and with a cry, “it’s my life,” I fired the gears and launched my pulsar 150cc to the roads of unlimited opportunities. Though this infant had problems walking, like trouble during shifting gears and maintaining the bike at normal speed, I managed to turn the wheels and keep it moving. I became the part of the road and the road, a part of me…. I felt immortal.
But my excitement was short lived. As a customary safety precaution, I checked for my mobile phone, purse and found it missing; the sole identification of man-the purse was missing. Thor, the thunder god threw his hammer at me and stark images of reality slapped on my face.
Analyzing the facts in chronological order, I understood it had fallen just five minutes back from the side pocket; a blunt search would fetch it back to me. I searched once by bike, slowly on cycle and finally on foot but lady luck turned her back on me. But she gave a kick when my mom called and enquired about my “well being.” I told her everything, prepared for the worst and tried to hope for the best. When I reached home, she was waiting and I knew death would be the best thing that would happen to me but I was sure death will come only slowly, very slowly…
Mom uses a different technique- a characteristic mental torture without even a single dose of physical punishment. All juice of life was squeezed from me and I was left in vegetative state.-no feelings, no emotions, just living…
But my eyes were always on the road, waiting for the angel in the form of kind person who found and returned my purse.
Now the contents of my purse:-thousand rupees, ATM card, driving license, ten thousand rupee cheque (with no name and date.) actually a bumper lottery for the one who finds it. Though I went and cancelled the cheque, the purse like my heart was still heavy.
The next day too was not different. But mom cannot be blamed. It was her hard earned money. Also I disobeyed her by taking the bike alone. My safety was also at stake. I called up my driving instructor to help me get a duplicate license. However angels come in all forms and shapes. He said he friend had found a purse and within minutes the stilled life of mine gained momentum. He and I went to this guy and thanks to almighty; I got it back with all its contents. Only expense was a brandy bottle for my instructor’s friend.
This experience though humorous was an acid test for me. I myself, who didn’t look much into money making, thought of ways to save these thousand rupees. When I looked deep, there were many “money leaks” in the trivial matters of life. Economic use of phone, bus alternative for auto, no merry making with friends can save little but significant. Money is important whatever people say. Unless we make our own money, we have right neither to waste nor afford the luxury of our parents’ money…