Have faith, you might find your lost diamond
Driving home from a party recently, I noticed that the Kohinoor on my ring was missing. I use the word Kohinoor very loosely here. For us non-royals, any diamond upward of 30 cents qualifies for the title. In any case, the loss was enough to give me arrhythmia if not a heart attack. My friend, who was with me, nearly had one out of compassion.
Fighting the mounting panic, I tried to think logically. I inferred that the stone must have fallen in the car or else I would have noticed it earlier. It was getting dark when we reached home and systematically searched the car, but in vain. I felt it was impossible to find the diamond at the venue of the party. The banquet hall was not the only place I had been to. I had used the toilet, the elevator, walked through the foyer and out to the car lot. The stone could have fallen anywhere. Heartbroken, I tried to be philosophical about my loss, blaming karma from some past sin for the loss.
Two hours later my friend’s husband called and suggested we go back to the place venue and look for the gem. I tried to reason with him, telling him that the tiny stone would be difficult to find in such a big hall. He did not agree and referring to the probability index theorised that the chances of finding it were greater at a place where I had spent the maximum amount of time, sitting at a table out front.
I gave in as he persisted. On the way, he tried to harness positive vibes by recounting miraculous lost and found stories. While I dutifully nodded to his tales, the sceptic in me was sure I would not find my diamond. As we entered the hotel premises, he prophesied that since he had sought God’s blessings we would not return empty-handed.
The hall had been swept clean, the tables and chairs stacked in the centre. We first inspected the spot where I had been sitting and then spread out. Within two minutes my friend announced her first find, a tiny crystal. Her husband meanwhile had got hold of the sweeper and was making him go through the garbage. He too had eyes only for sparkly objects and kept spotting crystals, zircon and fake pearls.
I looked around half heartedly, thinking of all the nooks and crannies where the diamond could have landed.
All I could see were rips in the carpet, holes in the upholstery, cracks in the plaster and accumulated grime. Not surprisingly, I found nothing. I wondered aloud how anyone could spot a tiny stone in all that filth.
That was when my friend called out, holding up a brilliantly luminous sparkler in her palm. She had found it! Minutes earlier I had combed the same area with my cynical, non-believing gaze and had found nothing.
On the way back, apart from that gratitude for my friends, fate and the forces above, I was filled with awe. In a small way, I had witnessed the power of faith. My friend could see it because she believed that she could. I didn’t because I thought I couldn’t. I have been wondering since. Could this be a turning point in my life? That profound moment that transforms me from a doubting sceptic to a believer in miracles? Faith can move mountains... of that I am still not sure, but it certainly helps one find stones!
THAT WAS WHEN MY FRIEND CALLED OUT, HOLDING UP A BRILLIANTLY LUMINOUS SPARKLER IN HER PALM. SHE HAD FOUND IT!