Lost And Found

Nestled in the window seat of the aeroplane, I was looking out at nothing in particular. Glancing at the far-off desert dunes, my mind drifted to the last week. It seemed to have moved at the faster pace than the sands of the desert. This was our first vacation post my second delivery. The baby now was almost eight months and thus handy enough to engage in a weeklong vacation. We had zeroed in on Oman, our neighbouring country of residence then, to be explored.

Equipped with the information and well aware of our holiday needs, I had planned an elaborate exploration of Muscat, Musandam, Jabel Akhdar Nizwa and Salalah. Being valid visa holders of UAE had guaranteed us the “on arrival visa” for Muscat. Stays were booked well in advance, so also the road trips during our stay at Oman.

With a five-year kid and an infant in tow, my hands were full. Shopping and packing had consumed most of my last week along with final tuning with the tour agents at Oman. Now that I was finally settled in the seat, I was more than happy. The kids so far had been very cooperative and better half had promised vacations sans any business work! I could not have asked for anything else…

The hour-long journey from Sharjah to Muscat went on perfectly well. I had otherwise prepared myself mentally to tackle any fussy, sticky situation that the little one might have created. This was going to be her first journey by flight and she was allowed the discount of feeling claustrophobic! But, I felt, the junior’s enthusiasm had rubbed on to her. All throughout the journey, the elder bro and lil sister played happily with each other.

After landing at the Muscat airport, we were soon out in open and were walking towards the car park where our pick-up car waiting for us. Before pulling the safety belt strap, I kept my purse aside. Then realizing that I have to keep the passports inside, I asked my better half to hand me over our passports. He turned around from the front seat and looked at me with complete surprise!

I was surprised too! Few seconds went by without both of us uttering a single word. Three pairs of eyes were looking at us in utter confusion; little baby, kiddo and the driver. A restlessness now gripped me. In another flash of second, man of the house got down from his side of the car and asked the driver to stay back with us till he returns.

I saw him disappearing in the crowd towards the airport’s arrivals section. My mind frantically tried recollecting the events. I remembered handing over my purse and the baby to him to catch hold of the pram and straighten it. In the meantime, he had searched my purse for the passports, to complete the immigration formalities. Settling the baby in the pram I followed the father son duo who were marching ahead of me, hand in hand. The immigration officer, wished to see the baby. Daddy dear kept the passports on the high table in front of the immigration officer and picked up the baby from the pram. I was watching all this from the other side of the pram. Daddy dear showed the baby to the immigration officer.

Immigration officer being the lady, spoke sweet little nothing with the baby. Startled by all this, the baby started crying and was inconsolable soon. Mom to the rescue! I took charge of the baby and daddy dear pushed the pram. The kiddo walked along with me. Soon we were at the baggage belt and were out in no time. We were out, but had left our identities behind. The immigration officer also did not notice it either.

And here I was sitting in the comforts of the ac sedan with my brood, and yet was most uncomfortable. The man of the house, had gone out in search of the lost passports. And we were in foreign land. At this moment, we belonged to nowhere. The life was in great jeopardy. All nasty thoughts mushroomed and started clouding my thinking space. It was Thursday, evening. In Oman and most of the Middle Eastern countries, Thursday and Friday are observed as the week ends and the week starts only on Saturday. Reaching Indian Embassy was thus out of question, was my first thought. The hotel where we were to be placed, would not have allowed us without valid identities to confirm our bookings.

With the pleasant evening coming to an unpleasant end, I was praying every other God and Goddess to come to the rescue. The minutes turned to an hour and then to two, the kiddo started getting restless. The baby was tired of playing in the confines of the car too. The driver stepped in and out at least twice or thrice. I was transfixed. Tears now welled up to the brim. I was about to break out when I heard the knock on the side window.

Though hazy, it was the best sight I have ever seen in my life. Here stood the man with the prized possession… four passports! Lost and Found!

—-By MocktailMommy Anagha

Howdy folks! This december starts with a bang on my blog as I run a unique bloghop with 28 bloggers to write guestposts for me and each other all this month. I hope my readers will catch all the action and support this drive with their comments and feedback to encourage the writing. To know more about this blog hop in detail, you could catch this post here.

About Anagha

Anagha Yatin is a mother growing with kids and a nomad wandering with husband. An engineer and a management graduate by training. Ex IT professional. Voracious reader. Die hard optimist. Recently discovered that she love to write. Started blogging a year and half with 7 other friends at “MocktailMommies Me Time” ( https://mocktailmommies.blogspot.in/). Now has another baby in fold, her own blog, “Canvas With Rainbow” (http://canvaswithrainbow.blogspot.in/). She is always happy to be busy in thoughts!

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You can read my blog posts on her blog about the beautiful temples of Belur in Karnataka here