The Black Bag and Some Reminders to Self

It's somewhat funny to remember that I am writing on board a plane after such a long, long time. Exactly after six long years. But why not utilize the time just like the one before? So, my Sydney trip is officially over now with 8-hour long flight. It has been quite a happening trip. We covered almost everything in Sydney. I met my long-lost friend Mon after exactly a decade. We got one whole day to catch up. It was so much like living the old days. Well, that was the sweet happening part. The shockingly happening part came this morning before we headed to the airport - something that never happened to me, or rather I am never known for such a thing ever. But anyway, there's always a first time.

The morning before airport I got myself into an unexpectedly dramatic situation. I boarded the bus to the airport at Bondi Junction. After going half way through, I realized suddenly that my black bag is not with me. That I have most probably left it at the chair on the bus stop - again repeating, it's something I am never known of doing ever. I'm not saying I'm perfect, but I am never that oh-I-so-forgot type. It was the black bag that contained my passport, money and everything I need to fly out of that continent. The moment of my realization came followed by an obvious blankness on my face. The tall lady sitting in front was the one who gave the exact reaction that I was supposed to give to the fellow passengers. Well, that made me a bit tempted to laugh. But I was not supposed to react that way. Instead, I remained silent with the usual blankness and got off the bus, walked a bit and after few blank minutes took another bus back to the junction. All the way, I really had no clue how to react or what to do. I know I possibly could not lose that bag, not me. Never in my life did I forget or be that careless. I could only pray, think of every possible god's name to find my lost or rather forsaken bag. But to be honest, I could not literally think of anything but total blankness.

When I reached the junction, the chair was empty as feared. The floor officer there was looking at me. I approached him and asked about a black bag which he informed he found and gave to the floor manager downstairs. I could catch some breath feeling relieved the bag was not lost indeed. Rest of the story was short and really sweet. I hurried to the floor manager who was awaiting me with two more officers, returned my bag and wished me a safe flight back. When I apologized for my stupidity and carelessness (which I have no clue how or why happened to me), the floor manager smiled and replied gently, "You're one lucky girl, my dear. Take it from me, there is someone up there looking after you." He looked at me and meant every word he said. I did believe him.

I had to hurry to the airport as I was going to miss my flight home. I thanked the officers from the bottom of my heart, appreciated their honesty and integrity, and gave a feedback call from the airport in recognition of their true effort and assistance. Those were my guardian angels in the foreign land. That thoughtful look from the manager when he said those words, the shy smile from the youngest officer looking relieved that I found my lost bag, and the words from the other officer, "Come again girl, see you soon", made me realize how blessed I indeed am to know them even if for such a short while. I am in fact looked after by someone from above. I believe in it so much.

The other day, I was telling my old friend how happy I am the way things have happened to me so far. We talked almost the entire day to Blue Mountains. After all, we had ten years' stuff to share. It's something I have truly believed so far. Whatever happened to me, the good, the bad, the ugly, it always brought me something better in life. I know and truly believe that someone out there always looks after me, protects me from any and every wrong, lights up the way I walk on. This time while returning to the junction for my lost bag, I promised myself something which I am going to follow and abide by with all my heart. I really got that sign clearly. That name is now erased forever. Losing that bag was indeed a sign for me to make that promise to myself. Or that's how I read my signs and pick my bits in life. Maybe it sounds weird, but it's so very true to me. Like always.

As one of my oldest and closest friends, Mon had all the rights and reservations to know what happened to me in the last ten years. And as usual, we picked from where we left. But I guess I was explaining those things to my own self as well. Over the years, I have practiced or at least tried my best to nurture a pure heart with integrity. That's what is needed in life to be happy and a true being. To me, practice of these small things such as being true, savagely true to your own heart is more important and much bigger and higher than any other practices like religion and career. I have been true to myself, being the caregiver of myself throughout all good, bad and ugly times that came across my life. There is some purity in the heart that is being taken care of and nurtured by the one who is beyond any explanation. That is my concept of God if there is such a thing (we can discuss it over tea or coffee some other time!).

I am not saying all this because I found my bag at the end. In my heart, I knew it would be found. Again that is trust. I believe whatever happens to you is what you rightfully deserve. I have faced so many rejections at different levels in life. But that doesn't really break me, could not so far. It always tells me to wait, wait for the things, turns and twists I rightfully deserve in life - be it the minutest of happiness or the biggest of misfortunes (or whatever you name it). It will definitely reach me in the right way. Life never cheats us at any point. It eventually gives us what we rightfully deserve. Always.