Beware of pick pockets

"I can't believe it's over

I watched the whole thing fall

And I never saw the writing that was on the wall

If I'd only knew

The days were slipping past

That the good things never last"

I was to meet Bataki at Barrista's on M.G.Road. Already 20 minutes behind scheduled time, I make my way from Shivaji Nagar; which also has a bus depot, towards M.G. Road and walk the same road that i would take to get back home. I reach Barrista only to find that Bataki is at Cafe Matteo, which is located next to NASA; a Pub, opposite Heera Panna, in the lane right opposite KFC which is on Brigade Road. Its quite, peaceful and away from the human traffic off the main street, with a dim ambiance which makes you wanna come back again with time on your hands. So after having a cheese croissant and a cappuchino, we walk our way back to Shivaji Nagar, executing the design on the first street off M.G.Road. It was almost 9.30 and not expecting to catch a direct bus home so I decide to go via Majestic.

Buses are less frequent after 10 and my bus had not yet arrived. Finally, it did arrive and it was like a 3 in 1 sandwich with people hanging out of it like lettuce in a hamburger, with more trying to make their way through because no one wants to pay 50% more to rickshaw wallahs. I am of the same opinion. So I am at the main doors' edge and not wanting to be crushed by the driver controlled collapsible doors, i push myself inside. A few more people have still managed to push in after me. It was crowded enough to remind me of the Mumbai locals during peak hours.

When in a crowded place, it is our self responsibility to take care of our belongings. I had everything in sight except for my wallet, which i was sure of was in the back pocket of my jeans. So being a responsible person I reach for my wallet to keep it in the bag. But my wallet moves without me touching it.

Now, my wallet is such that it cannot be removed from the pocket without brushing the ass. It is a big, fat, black leathered wallet, which contains more ID and visiting cards than money. It is stuffed, like the bus, with tickets, membership and ID cards and some cash in the middle sleeve, a few '5' OCB markers in the behind sleeve, more membership and ATM cards in the front, below which are visting cards pressing against my collection of coins from around the world. The wallet has a push button locker which has to be stretched hard to lock it. It is super heavy for someone unlike me to travel with it and if thrown at, may cause serious damage.

"What the fuck!!" , exclaimed the sub-conscious me, realizing the misplacement of my wallet. I snap back to see a man in the yellow-black striped shirt at the egde of the door, slip the wallet in his upper pocket and jump off the moving bus. And all of this happened within 2 seconds.

"AAAYYYYEEEEE...!!!!", I shout running after him, breaking through the single row of people standing towards the edge. I follow him through the maze of buses parked in the drive-way before the exit, trying not to loose sight of him.

"AAAYYYEEEEE.... CHORR!!!" I shout again attraction more attention of the few people at the depot. The man, heavily built and a swift runner ran towards the main exit, the exit from where the buses move out from the depot.

He was 2 buses away from me and I technically take a shorter route, hoping to intersect him after the bus ahead of us. A group of people, gathered behind, shout for me. I stop in my tracks and loose track of the wallet snatcher. He was gone, nowhere to be seen.

I feared the worst. I had a helpless feeling that I had lost my wallet and its precious contents and I could do nothing about it. Expecting the worst, i head back to group of people only to find that my wallet was lying on the road with all of its content spread out, like a alu-mutter sandwich run over by a speeding cycle.

By the look of it, nothing seemed to be stolen, just that I had to position the contents back in place. I was relieved to find my wallet back!!

All of this takes place in less than 20 seconds, which caused the adrenal medulla in my brain to over secrete catecholamine, causing heavy breathing and blurry vision. Bringing myself back to normality and checking the contents of the wallet, I catch the next bus home, this time keeping the wallet in my bag. Images flash through the projector in my brain, replaying the event again and again and also portraying the sequence of irrelevant events of the incident.

The aftermath of the event was that it left me paranoid android about my wallet and had strained my hamstring for the following 3 days, not allowing me to even brisk walk or for that matter cross a divider, which made me realize that I either had to start my morning jog or be extra cautious while commuting.

The former is essential and latter is important.