On the Trail of the Missing Wallet

Chapter I

I woke up at the sound of my SMS tone one fine afternoon. With eyes still shut, I groped for my cell phone which was lying next to my pillow. I rubbed my eyes and squinted down at the screen. It was from ICIC Bank. Just another offer, I muttered. Then I slowly began to read the message.

You have made a Debit Card purchase of INR 3,990.00 on 19 Feb. Info: IPS*DAKSH SOLUT. Your Avbl. Bal is INR _____.00.

It was Sunday, February 18, 2007, and the time was exactly 1:48 pm.

A Debit Card purchase. Rs. 3,990.00. February 18. 1:48 pm. IPS Daksh Solution. The words took a long moment to register. I felt as if I were wandering in a dream. I was lost, confused, mixed up and bewildered.

What the hell’s going on? I was sleeping the whole morning. How could I possibly go out and make a purchase? Did they send the wrong number? My debit card was in my wallet, safe and sound. But where’s my wallet? Oh, my dear, little wallet. I suddenly sprung up from my bed and reached for the place where I always kept my wallet. Empty. I shook my head in disbelief. Again it was empty. I was caught in a whirlwind of confusion.

I searched all the possible places where I might have left the wallet. The movement was hasty and rough. Rummaging, turning things over, pushing things aside, emptying contents. I had literally checked every possible place. Still no sign of it. I even called a friend who I went over to his place the previous night in hopes that I had dropped it somewhere around his room. Negative. It could have been that it slipped off on my way back home, though that still didn’t seem likely to me since my wallet was securely tucked away in my back pocket, and I knew for sure it was still there when I reached my room. I was starting to believe it was stolen rather than me just simply leaving it somewhere. I finally gave up the search.

My wallet’s gone. And my world swirled into darkness.

I fell down upon my bed in bewilderment. I just laid there for what seemed like hours. I felt so dumb. I blamed myself for being too careless. This was the second time my wallet got stolen. It was the fall of 2004 that I was pick-pocketed for the first time in the infamous, busy Sunday Market. They were professionals. I couldn’t have really taken care of myself better. But now, this happened right inside my room. Inside my goddamn room. And I was sleeping like dead.

Weekends are my off days. My roommate left for work around 10:30 am that day. Hence, the raid must have taken place sometime between 10:30 am and 1:00 pm. If someone had indeed entered our room during that time, why would he choose to take ‘only’ my wallet? Most importantly, how did he manage to pick it up from a place so secure and safe? He came in quietly, took the wallet from its hiding place, and left. There was around Rs. 500 in it, an ICICI debit card, a driving license registered in Manipur which my parents sent to me the past month, visiting cards, passports, a ‘very special’ picture, and all. My cell phone and other valuables were left untouched.

I immediately called ICICI customer care, got my card blocked and requested for a new one.

It began to dawn upon my mind that the whole operation must have been planned far in advance. He must be someone who really ‘knew’ our schedule – when my roommate would be away, when I would still be buried in deep sleep all alone with an unlocked door. He must be someone who ‘knew’ the patterns of our room, where we kept things and where I always left my wallet. Indeed, he must be a really clever punk.

I was seething with anger thinking about the way this guy slipped into my room, stole my wallet, swiped the hell out of my card, and enjoying my hard-earned money like a big fat slug. At this point, I honestly had no clue who the culprit really was and was still quite shocked by the whole thing. I had to flip back and catch up on clues. Any clues. It was broad daylight, there was no damage, and so the possibility of the involvement of a local goon was out of the question. Must be one of us. He used my debit card to make a purchase at IPS Daksh Solution. He didn’t have to know the PIN number. Smart kid. And where the hell was that IPS Daksh Solution and what did it sell? I was becoming more and more dazed as I struggled to find further clues and piece them together. But all these led me to nowhere.

I literally gave up the hope of getting back my money. Adiós, oh, precious wallet of mine, and may God bless whoever kept it.

Two days passed. On Wednesday, February 21, 2007, Thangboi, a friend, came to me and said, “My sisters have just told me that Mr. X was selling them a newly bought Motorola phone the past Sunday. I think it costs around Rs. 4,000. And that is the amount swiped out of your card, right?”