Finding something I lost… perspective

So. I lost my iPhone a few days ago. It was flicked from my office desk. I went through all the stages that everyone who has ever lost or had their phone stolen.

I didn’t believe it at first that it was actually stolen (How could it happen to me??!!!)
Immediately called on my phone to the robotic voice tell me on the other side in a happy tone that my number is switched off! (I can’t blame her. How would she be able to sense the situation. Honestly, this is why sentients beings will never get along with us humans; half the fight that happens between humans is because of misunderstanding the tone and robots and sentient beings will never be able to master that). Anyway, I digress.

I then made a complaint with the office security to let them know that my iPhone is missing, supposedly (I am 100% sure it is stolen, but one must use these terms).
And then, came the technology part, tracking your phone on the Find my iPhone app, blocking your SIM, then tracing your sim, your phone (its so exhausting)

And then comes the perspective.
Sitting with my mother at the police station; I may be a fully functional adult, but I need my mummy!, tears still dropping in fat huge blobs from my now sore eyes. We filed a complaint for my stolen/missing phone. I must add here that the police were extremely co-operative and very polite.

Anyway, while I was waiting for the police to finish up writing their report in walked three people; two grown men and a small kid. Turns out, the kid was lost, couldn’t speak the local language, didn’t have a complete grasp of English or Hindi.

Someone was lost. Lost.

An actual human being, someone’s kid, or brother, was lost.

And here I was bawling my eyes out in the police station because my phone was missing.

Yes, I was upset, and I am allowed to be. Hell, it was a real expensive phone. A month’s salary.

But I shouldn’t dwell on its loss more than necessary. One guy at work confessed to me on hearing that my phone was stolen that he was so upset that he couldn’t eat food for a week.

Let’s not get into that.

I am just saying, it gave me the desired push to get out of the misery induced haze, the victim party, where I was the host, the guest and the audience.

I just lost my iPhone, in the safest way for me. I was mugged, or held against a wall or pushed  out of the way while someone lugged for my bag instead of rushing to my aid. It was just flicked from my desk.

Perspective.

I think lost that, and I think I found it. Even if it was just for that particular moment.

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