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Blessing in disguise, Parisian style

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SOME mishaps turn out to be a blessing in disguise. We once lost our passports in Paris and felt crestfallen for a while. However, we soon fell in love with the beautiful city and thoroughly enjoyed our extended stay.

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I had planned a four-day stopover in Paris with my wife on our way to visiting our daughter in New York. Wary of thefts on Parisian trains, we had stashed cash and valuables in suitcases, while I had kept our passports and cash cards in a belt-wallet tied around my waist. No thief would be interested in our passports and cards, I thought. But the thieves at Gare du Nord, the busiest railway station in Paris, thought otherwise. Three of them huddled around me when I was standing on the elevator holding two heavy suitcases.

On getting down from the elevator, I realised that my belt-wallet was gone and that the trio had disappeared in the crowd. Standing awestruck on the crowded platform with our passports gone, we felt vulnerable — as if stripped naked in broad daylight.

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After filing a report at a very unfriendly police station, we took a metro to our accommodation. It was a pleasant three-room flat on the fourth floor with a balcony overlooking the lively Ramey Street. From the bedroom window on the other side, we could see the majestic domes of Sacre Coeur Basilica. Tom Earsel, our host, was a young French journalist with an impeccable sense of humour. He was in a relationship with a girl named Sylvia, and whenever his flat was leased, he stayed with his girlfriend.

We went to the Indian embassy, where the consular attaché promised to issue new passports within a day — provided that we, especially my wife, stopped looking grim and managed to smile. This theft was not a mishap but God’s way of giving us a chance to enjoy the beautiful city of Paris, he said with a chuckle. We were given two forms to be filled and brought next day along with a fee of 200 euros.

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We did not have that much cash. Our daughter was sending us money from New York through Western Union but a passport was needed as proof of identity to receive it. We told Tom about our problem. He said he could loan us the amount but would have to ask Sylvia. He rang her up and spoke in French for some time and then said to us with an embarrassed smile, “I am giving you the money but can’t tell you how badly she rebuked me!”

We got our passports the next day and US visa about 10 days later. Meanwhile, we enjoyed the sights and sounds of Paris to our heart’s content. Before our departure, we gifted a bottle of Bordeaux wine to Tom; he insisted on sharing it with us on our last evening. After downing the first glass, he told us why his girlfriend scolded him that day. Mimicking his fiancée, he quoted her, “Tom, why do you have to think twice before helping a couple in distress? If you don’t trust and believe in people, life becomes impossible on this planet.”

Tom was an angel of a person. And so was his girlfriend.

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