Do you love Viren Mehta? You should.

Night before Holi, 7 of us were across town at a café. Anup and I had ridden our bicycles and the ride home was about 45 min. I had my laptop/backpack with me. 11pm we leave. The girls were taking a rickshaw home and offered to take my bag so I wouldn’t have to bike it home. I give it to them.

I got home 20 minutes later. I asked for my bag so I could get some work done before I went to sleep (I have less than two weeks left in India at this point). They realize they forgot it in the rickshaw and run out to see if he’s still there: no such luck. Over 10 Indicorps and Manav Sadhna people worked until 3am making signs, putting them up in gas stations, taking me to the police stations, waiting at where the rickshaw dropped them off in case he returned… nothing.

I tried to be positive.

Next day was Holi. [I was sad and wanted to stay in bed, but the boys came downstairs and ambushed us with buckets of water and colored Holi powder. (There are still green and blue handprints on our walls from the struggle). I was even attacked while I was sleeping and woke up with blue dye on my back and my pillowcase. I went to celebrate at MS (I didn’t want to bring down everyone else’s day) and played with the colors, then water, then mud just like last year. At one point, we had all pinned Anup down in the mud and he got a hold of me and body slammed me into the mud (I’m screaming “inappropriate!” b/c it’s not culturally sensitive… he later claimed that his eyes were covered in mud and he didn’t know it was me) (liar). ]

In any case, later that day I discovered I had not only lost my laptop, but also the back up CD’s (b/c I had just burned them; they were still in the bag) and my planner, my notebook, everything. I still tried to stay positive and productive but when I realized that I no longer even had a PEN - I broke. I cried for a really, really long while.

With my lack of time left, I forced myself to not dwell on it or be sad- I simply don't have the time. However, later, when I realized that I was meeting the designer for the annual report and all the pictures were gone, I decided not to let my work go so easily. I made small flyers w/ Raju (who took a few hours out to write them up in Gujarati b/c he’s the best person ever!), xeroxed 600 copies, and passed them out to every rickshawwalla I saw. Must’ve talked to over 75 and I was losing my voice from repeating the story so many times.

Then I met up with Pankaj who said I had to take the rest of the night off or I would drive myself crazy. 10 minutes later, Virenbhai (of Manav Sadhna) calls. Says he just got a weird call from someone who may have my laptop. Asks if I’m willing to pay a reward. Yes, I tell him, whatever the guy wants. He says, hopefully, if the guy calls back, he’ll offer a reward and also explain that I am here doing good things and servicework.

He calls me back. Says he’s convinced the guy to come over to his house by assuring that the police won’t be involved. Tells me to get there as quickly as possible. On my bicycle it would’ve taken me an hour. Pankaj generously lends me his scooter, knowing full well I’ve never driven in India at night. (I don’t even know how to kickstart them properly!) I chug along the road and get there- this guy, Viren Mehta, asks me a million questions about what I had in the bag. When he is satisfied that the bag is mine, he goes home to bring it to me. (Turns out the rickshawwalla tried to sell it to him thinking it was a small TV. This guy, Virenbhai Mehta, says he needs to see it first to assess the price. Looks through the bag, realizes what happened, and calls a few of the first numbers in my notebook.) He wouldn’t even take a reward. Says God gives him everything he needs. Says he wouldn’t even take 5 rupees that don’t belong to him b/c somewhere down the road he’d pay for it a hundredfold. I’m still in shock. This guy singlehandedly renewed my faith in the world.

The whole night was so surreal: He, Viren Mehta, and his friend, Vinod, had apparently gone through my planner, asked if I made my dentist appointment on Friday (!!!). Then, Jayeshbhai calls to tell me that I can never sell this computer now b/c it’s a reminder of the good in the world. (Also proceeds to tell me to have sweet dreams tonight b/c I’ve made him so happy… but I should dream in black and white (???)) Then, on the bike ride home at midnight, while I’m still in shock and the streets are surreally empty, and I think that the world couldn’t possibly surprise me any more, I pass a nice man riding an elephant and talk to him for a bit. (Despite romanticized notions of India, seeing an elephant in big citay A’bad is few and far between; I’ve seen an elephant maybe twice in my year and a half here).

Everything was still in the bag. (I’m typing this on my laptop!!!) I am so lucky and so grateful. I am blessed.

AND I have my pen back.