Exchange of hearts!

         Ashlesha laughed to herself again, the whole situation seemed too amusing to her. Her bag had been exchanged at the baggage carousel on the airport and instead of getting the bag of a young man like it generally happens in the movies; she had brought home the bag of an old woman. The dentures, the sarees, loads of warm clothing and smell of balm confirmed it. At first Ashlesha was frantic but she now felt sorry for the old lady whose bag she had picked up. Thankfully Ashlesha's important belongings were in her handbag, so she wasn't going crazy about her loss. After consulting her parents she decided to contact the airport authorities to know if anyone had come asking for their baggage. The officials were not very co-operative but said they'd give Ashlesha's number if in case someone calls. 

           Ashlesha had a rough trip to Chandigarh with her friends and now in Mumbai this incident happened to add to her problems. The cold Chandigarh weather had taken a toll on her health and her little dream of finding a nice young stranger on the trip had turned sour since she had to stay confined in her hotel room all the time. Even now she was utterly disheartened when she learnt the bag belonged to a lady and not a handsome young man, no luck here either. She decided to take a nap in the afternoon to get rid of the tiredness from her long early morning flight. It would also help her escape her parents' nagging about her irresponsible behaviour even at the age of twenty-six. 

            It always upset Ashlesha, when her parents drew comparisons with her two years younger yet immensely mature sister, Anvesha.  Ashlesha wasn't a failure in life but she wasn't a great success either. Her life was mediocre, as an advertising associate she was doing well in life but not as well as her younger sister who was pursuing architecture and was well on the way of becoming a successful architect. Anvesha always had her priorities set right and that's why she was going steady even in her relationship unlike Ashlesha who despite her decent looks failed in relationships. It wasn't entirely Ashlesha's fault, it was just that she never tried too hard to hold on to a guy. So from one relationship to the next she just kept moving without an anchor to hold her in place. 

            It was two hours into her beautiful dream when a jarring sound suddenly stole her peaceful sleep. It was her phone, how many times had she cursed the ring tone that her sister had set on her phone. She just whispered a "Hello" when the voice on the other end began yelling. " How can you just walk away with any bag you see, cant you read? My bag has a tag on it with my name!" Oh how lame of me thought Ashlesha but it was too late to read the tag now, these old Aunties always have tags to identify their bags she thought and smiled to herself. "I am sorry Aunty", she cooed into the phone. The woman not listening continued, "So you should be! Thanks to the airport authorities who gave me your number, otherwise how would I have traced you in this big world?" "Aunty I gave them my number to give it to you..." Ashlesha was cut short. The lady started again "Now what are you planning to do with my bag, I hope you haven’t burned it down." Oh I wish I had, thought Ashlesha to herself and grinned. "Hello! Listen whoever you are, my name is on the bag, and my address is...." Ashlesha jotted down the address quickly on a notepad lying among her scattered things. Before hanging up she asked in a very polite tone if that lady had picked her bag in exchange, the lady said in the affirmative and Ashlesha thanked her stars for it. There wasn’t anything precious in it apart from her favorite dresses and accessories yet she wanted it back whatever be it.

              Then she hung up and wore an old pair of jeans and Tee and took the keys to her bike to reach the address. The distance wasn’t much and all along Ashlesha just feared the old woman who had already given her a sound piece of her mind on the phone. She decided to take Anvesha with her but then changed her mind on the last minute. Anvesha might not take the woman's chiding too lightly and exchange some mean words which Ashlesha being a softhearted kitten, didn’t wish. She went to the address and stood in front of the building for a while, setting her hair right and applying gloss as was her habit. Lightly brushing her hair, she leisurely applied kajal to her sleepy eyes. Then she suddenly glanced in her rear view mirror to notice a young man staring and smiling from a balcony of the apartment. She decided to ignore such ignoramus men who knew nothing about how important it was for women to look presentable while visiting people. Thoroughly determined to get her bag back she strode towards the building. She hit the lift button for 3rd floor and took a deep breath, preparing herself to face her fear. 

              On the third floor she knocked on the door of the flat 301 and to her immense surprise the same Mr. ignoramus who was staring at her had opened the door. "Hello, I am here to meet...." she opened her purse and read from a slip, "Mrs. Meera Sahay" ...she shut her purse again. "Yes, how can I help you?" he asked and all of a sudden she turned and ran really fast down the flight of stairs to the ground floor to where her bike was parked but by the time she reached the spot, the bag was gone! The bag she had come to return all the way had been stolen! She was shocked for a moment, then regaining her balance she ran to the watchman of the building and asked him if he had noticed anyone picking up a black bag from her bike. The watchman admitted he hadn’t been at his seat at that time and Ashlesha gave him a furious look. She was in for a real scare, Mrs. Meera, the lady whose bag had been stolen just now had come down now, with the young man in tow, who apparently was her son. She was raging with anger and Ashlesha seemed to imagine this woman in the role of a TV serial vamp, how good a job she would do. Putting in a lot of effort she pushed that thought behind her mind and focused on the woman's cussing. She was shouting at the top of her voice and the entire apartment had been woken up from their 4 'O' clock siestas. 

             "Look Aunty, I am so sorry, I just left it here and now its gone and I don’t know whom to blame” she said with tears brimming in her eyes. The young man whose name the woman kept calling several times as Nihar, just kept looking at his mother dumbfounded maybe by his mother's public display of profanity. She yelled for ten whole minutes, without listening to a word of what Ashlesha had to say and then just walked off from there to her flat. Ashlesha stood there, not because she didn’t know what to do but because she secretly hoped the lady was going to give her bag when she came back down. But she didn’t come back for quite a long time, Ashlesha assumed she was gone for good. 

            Not knowing what to do, Ashlesha sat on her bike, thinking of her options, tears now visibly moisturized her cheeks. And then suddenly she heard a male voice "Stop crying!" she looked up and it was that insolent woman's son, Nihar. She looked away and said "Why should I? Your mother insulted me in full open view and I don’t even have the right to cry a little in public?" she asked wiping her tears. "Here take this bag and go take yours from my mother." Ashlesha was confused and ecstatic at the same time! It was the mad woman's bag she was seeing now. "Where did you find it?" she asked "Did you run after the thief and punch him hard?" she asked excitedly. "You seem to be watching a lot of Bollywood Masala films I guess. Well, I am no prince to rescue the princess when she is in trouble.This bag was with my watchman all this time" laughed Nihar. "Wwwwhat? Wwwhere?" asked Ashlesha visibly perplexed. "Well you were so busy getting your 'pretty little princess look' right, that you forgot the main purpose for which you had come here." Ashlesha  gave him a cross look.  "After you left the bag here and went into the building, I signaled to my watchman to hide it inside his room." laughed Nihar. "Oh man! the look on your face was priceless when you saw the bag was gone, I should have taken a picture then." Ashlesha snarled and picked up the lady's bag and headed towards the building. "Won’t you check your makeup again, Miss! It's soiled after the drama" Nihar called out from the back and laughed incessantly. Within five minutes Ashlesha was back with her bag this time in her hands. She gave Nihar a very cold stare "I'd like to say your mother and you could use some manners, she doesn’t say Thank You and you don’t say Sorry!" "Sorry? For what? Bringing back my mother's bag safely from those thieves... haha... then I am definitely Sorry!" 

           Swearing beneath her breath Ashlesha walked with her bag to her bike and dumped it angrily on the pillion seat. She tried to kick start her bike but in vain. Her bike always made her look like the classic 'damsel in distress'; it never started in one kick when required to. "Can I help?" the same voice sounded from the back. "Have you taken the contract of helping women in this colony? Don’t bother, I can help myself!" "OK fine, I was just going" Nihar took the lift and went upstairs. He stood at the balcony watching Ashlesha's stubborn bike throw tantrums. "I can still help he shouted, but this time I will charge" he laughed an evil fake laughter. Ashlesha looked up and grinned, "No thanks". She called the watchman of the building "Bhaiyya can you start this bike, its acting really weird today" Nihar signaled from the top again and the watchman obeyed his orders. That was it, Ashlesha's anger had reached boiling point. She dragged her bike and began walking towards the road and to her utter dismay Nihar was running behind her. She gave a helpless sigh and parked her bike. "Can I try now?!” he asked, she obliged and Viola! With just one kick the bike started!" "Oh my God, What's wrong with me today" she spoke it aloud. "Nothing, its just that your luck is on my side" Ashlesha laughed this time. "OK so what am I getting in return?" Nihar asked. "What in return?" Ashlesha blinked, feigning innocence. "Well I said I would charge, didn’t I?" "Hmm... I hope I can afford your fee...What's the price?" Ashelsha asked sarcastically. "You've hired the most expensive mechanic in the city. So the charge is a cup of coffee." Nihar smiled. Ashlesha laughed "OK! But not today; here's my number; we can meet tomorrow. Bye!" she drove off. She smiled all the way and met Nihar the next day and they kept meeting several times. Ashlesha had finally found her anchor!