This Sunday, we had a potluck lunch at a relative's house. I had to attend an introductory session of the Landmark Education Forum at my friend Ambuj's instance in the morning. My parents reached the relative's house around 12:30. I was to join them. I did not know the way to the house. I called my dad while I was on the way. My dad who is generally bad at giving directions told me to come up to the new Monda Market and then give my mom a call.
So far, so good.
I reached the new Monda Market. I dialed my mom's cell phone number and tapped the 'Call' button on my iPhone.
"You have no call balance. Please recharge!"
Whaaat?!! I was shocked. This had never happened to me before. Some mistake, I thought to myself. I tried again. Same message.
I hadn't even got a warning when the balance had become low. How could this have happened? Anyway, I did not panic, not yet at least. I asked auto drivers on the road side for Mansarovar Heights, the name of the apartment I was to go to. I could find my way fairly easily. I reached the apartment. I realized that there were about 400 flats in that building. How would I find the flat I was to go to?
I asked the security people if there was a board where they had the residents' names along with the flat numbers. I would just look for a 'Chandarana' and could get to the flat. No, they said. No such board. What kind of an apartment was this?
I tried my cell phone again. Perhaps there was some temporary problem which might have been rectified. The stern male voice from Idea Cellular repeated (I could swear the voice, though recorded, sounded more irritated, like he was upbraiding me for trying again and again)
"You have no call balance. Please recharge!"
I tried sending an SMS to my folks "Call me now". Did not go through.
I asked the security if there was a telephone booth close by. "Today is Sunday. It is closed." I sheepishly asked the security guy if I could borrow his cell phone to make a call as I did not have any balance. Turned out that he did not have a cell phone!
I was at my wits' end. I had no clue about what do next! At one point, I thought I should turn back and go home. But then I remembered that the menu for lunch was "Dal Baati Choorma" which happens to be one of my favorite dishes! No way I was going to miss that!
I sat down on a chair and thought hard. There had to be some way out!
The security guy brought a book which had all the residents' names and their flat numbers. I started going through the names looking for a 'Chandarana'. I had turned about twenty pages unsuccessfully when another security guy came there and asked what was happening. We explained my predicament. He promptly took out his cell phone and offered it. I grabbed it, quickly called my dad and asked him the flat number. 811. Sigh!
The "Dal Baati Choorma" of course, more than made up for the preceding drama!
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