Lost and found Mitochondria

Rapid pinging on the Hike messenger made me wash my hands and take a break from my cooking. 

I opened the family “Home Talkies”

“Mama! Don’t freak out!”

I messaged back, “?????”

“I think I have lost my watch!”

The very responsible Doctor of the family was at Prayagraj Kumbh Mela. She was there on duty. She and her team had been put up at the eye camp. She shared her “room” with three other people. We all had been apprehensive about her going and roughing it out at the eye camp there. But she had been very pleased with all the arrangements made by the Organisers. Lovely warm tents; great attached bathrooms and the most important thing four square meals a day with lots of snacks, tea and coffee thrown in. True they had to work hard, but they had fixed timings, so it was a kind of break from the slavery that they had to face at college!

I sighed and thought, “Why did she have to get my bad genes?”. But like me I knew she would find it. I was the famous “lost and found” specialist of the family!

I messaged back, “You will find it!”

Father noticed the conversation sometime later and said, “No you won’t”

“Tell me when you last saw it”, I asked

“Well! I think I left it on the bed before I went for my bath.”

“It will be there, amongst the bedclothes”, I insisted

“Have searched!”, came the terse reply

“Maybe it’s time for a new watch!”, came another rejoinder

“You will find it”, I signed off.


There was discussion in the house about whether or not it would be found. Well all my life, I had lost things (Specially keys and money!); given up hope of ever finding them; found them definitely. This time around I was sure my mitochondria would find it!

After three days an abashed message, “Found my watch!”

“Where was it?”, three people messaged back simultaneously

“It was with my undies in the undies bag”

I never said, “I told you so!”

The next day I overslept as I hadn’t been keeping too well. I woke up to hear the face time app ringing.

I clicked on it to see the teary-eyed baby of the family, six thousand kilometres away in Chicago.

Of course, I panicked! But I am the parent, cannot show it!

“Mama! I have lost all my immigration papers!”

“No, you cannot have, I am sure you will find it”, I said reassuringly not feeling reassuring at all!

Lord and master took the I pad from me (he could see I was panicking)

“Where did you last see it?”, he asked

She had just returned from a business trip.

“Did you take it with you to Ohio?”, I asked

“No, I did not”, came the tearful rebuttal

“Where did you last see it?” repeated Dad

“Well, I kept very carefully. They are in a thick folder. When I came back from India, I first kept it on my bedside table, then I use to sleep with it every day…”

“Then?”, prompted Dad.

All this while my mind was going haywire thinking of where she could have kept it.

“Then once my bed got all dirty, so I kept it on the floor… for safe keeping you know”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Was that the last you saw it?” Dad said, a little frustration creeping into his voice.

“What about your passport?”

“Passport is fine I always keep it in this bag”, the bag was displayed to us.

I sighed, “You can get all the other papers from the university, right?”

“I suppose so, but it will take time and I need to submit the documents tomorrow!”, wailed my baby

I doubted my mitochondria for a second! I never left things for the last moment. That must be from her father, I comforted myself.

“Take me around the places you could have kept it. What about the suitcase?”, I asked tentatively, sure I would get an impatient answer in response.

“That was the first place I looked for!”, was the snappy reply

“Do it again, just to please me”, I wheedled

The suitcase was got out, I saw her hands going all over it.

“No, its not there!”, she wailed

I got up to leave the I pad. My mitochondria had failed! I was mutely looking at my better half for some reassurance.

“Hell!” the young one exclaimed

“I think its here! But I don’t know how to get it out!”

I was frozen!

Lots of noise from the iPad, I did not dare look into it.

“Got it!”, said the triumphant voice

There she was, with  the teary-eyed smile (Which by the way her father loves), the absconding folder in her hand!

I could have given her a whack and hug at the same time.

Well don’t need DNA testing for these two, they definitely have my mitochondria!



Not my day – Attack of the Delivery Men


“Hazzar rupaya dena” ( Give me thousand rupees). I had opened the door in the middle of the afternoon to the incessant ring of the calling bell. This is the quiet time of the day so I was taken by surprise. 

The milk man stood outside, all dressed up with a very huge grin. It was the 24th of the month! In my sleep befuddled mind red warning bells were ringing and if I had something to throw I would have!

I controlled myself, “I don’t have thousand rupees”

He said, “What is this madam, you don’t even have thousand rupees!”

I looked at him squarely in the eye, “End of the month I don’t have it with me”

He looked a little abashed, “Actually the delivery van is downstairs, and he needs it”

If I was a magical being I would have frozen him with my looks, “Well, I don’t have it”

After seeing him all dressed up I was determined not to give him any money. I was convinced there was no van downstairs he just wanted to go and have fun!

“I will come at six o’clock, you keep the money ready”, he said, as if he was doing me a favor.

I refused to reply.

“You cut it from the bill for the month”

As I had resumed taking milk from the middle of the month I knew the bill would not even touch thousand!

“OK?”

I said, “No! I am going out and will not be going to the ATM to withdraw money!”

At last he left me to stare wide awake at the clock and watch my precious sleep time get over.

Normally the milk packet is dumped on the floor outside the door in a haphazard fashion and I have to keep checking whether it has been delivered or not! But the next day there was the ting tong of the bell at 7 in the morning.

“Good morning madam!” the milkman stood with two packets of milk in his hand.

I took the packets, “Aren’t you delivering tomorrow?”

“I am!”

“Then why are you giving me two packets?”

“I got extra, so take it”

I was already to burst, “NO! I don’t an extra one today. I will let you know when I want one”

“OK OK Can you give me that thousand rupees today?” he asked ingratiatingly

I was so tired of him I gave it to him saying that he now owes me so much for the next month.

“Theek hai theek hai” (OK OK)

I warned him, “Don’t give me any brand you feel like, I will throw it and not pay for it” was my parting shot!
It was a jinxed day ….

At nine the bell rang again. I assumed it was the garbage collector. I kept sitting as the maid normally dealt with him. But today was not my day!

She said he wanted to talk to me.

“Can you give me my money?” looking at me in half drunken stupor

I looked at him pretending incomprehension.

“Only five days left for the month to end, anyway.” He said airily

didn’t argue with this one. I just silently gave it to him.

I got a salaam for my effort and a triumphant smile. I realized my mistake! The month before I had given the money to his wife, who must not have given it to him, hence the hurry to take it from me!

The bell rang again at two o’clock in the afternoon; thankfully I had not gone for my nap. I was expecting someone from the office to pick up some documents. Without checking I opened the door.

It was the newspaperman!

He gave the bill with a flourish. After having been cheated numerous times, these days I check everything he writes.

As usual there was an extra thirty five rupees!

“What is this for?”

“Monday… Economic times!” he said smugly

“I don’t keep economic times and I don’t get any extra paper on any Monday!”

“Tch! That delivery boy is mad!”

I waited….

He reluctantly took the bill and cut off the thirty five and gave it to me.

“Today is the 25th” I said pointedly

“It’s only so little, you can give it”

I realized today was not my day and I gave it to him with bad grace.

“Why don’t you keep DIVA, it comes every Friday?”

“No I don’t want it”

“What about magazines? You don’t read or what?”

“No” came out like a shot

I think you should read Economic Times. Shall I give that?”

My weary ‘no’ came along with the lift and I was thankful to see the back of him.


After three harrowing battles I was all girded up to meet the flower man next! But he never turned up and never delivered the flowers either.

Let me tell you what the conversation will be like.

I will give him one day/ five days less worth of money.

“What madam, one day/ five days only, why cut money for that?”

And no amount of argument will help me because ultimately I will give!

Whoever thinks that managing home finances is easy should come and live in Mumbai. For us poor housewives pay at least ten percent extra for every commodity; over and above that we are bullied into paying more than necessary, openly and callously!