Return of a phantom
Owners or keepers of others' treasures
This post is compelled by my February post Lost & Found that featured a poem about a ring lost on a trip to Vietnam. My post evoked a question from a few of you: Was the ring ever found? Well, it’s complicated! Let me share with you the ring’s journey. All this happened over five years ago…
Return of a phantom…
I jumped at the email subject: “From Hanoi”. “Hello! I am Hanh. I have your ring for two years but I am contact you now. Very sorry…”, it started awkwardly. “Hahn” is a Vietnamese girl’s name. I looked it up. She was talking about a ring, a precious gift, I had lost and wept for in Vietnam two years before. It was a “harem” ring that my husband had bought for me in Istanbul after jokingly expounding on the “benefits” of harems and multiple wives. I hadn’t forgotten it even as the possibility of its return faded with time.
I wrote back promptly and Hahn answered all my queries. She’d found the ring soon after we left the hotel in Hanoi. She cleaned rooms there everyday, having taken over the job her grandmother vacated a few months before. Hahn’s grandmother had raised her, and had to quit the hotel job when she was diagnosed with cancer. They gave her a month or two. Grandma insisted they not fight her prognosis but even then grandma’s care was a financial strain. When Hahn found the ring she planned to take it to the hotel manager. But then she saw the notice he had posted and noted down my email address. “I thought I can keep it for little while? Get money from pawn? So I wear it and go home.” By then Hahn’s bedridden grandmother was rarely awake. But that day “My grandma saw your ring and want it.” Hahn put the ring on grandma’s finger. After all it wouldn’t be too long before the finger that wore it would depart all such earthly temptations.
“But a miracle happen. My grandma is better. The next day she is sitting. Soon she is walking. My grandma live two more years. She always wears your ring. After two years she die peacefully. But she make me promise to return your ring. Was it special ring? My Buddhist teacher say it must be a ring that was given by one to another, two people who are one in soul, more than life. Is that true?” her email disarmingly enquired. “I thank you from me and my grandma. Give me your address…”
I couldn’t deny the ring was a precious love object. But being an atheist, I didn’t want to encourage Hahn’s mystical reading of the situation. Yet I wanted to respect the spiritual truth of her narrative. I wrote back gently thanking her for safekeeping it. I expressed admiration for her bravery and happiness that my ring had helped bring joy to her grandma in her last days. I gave her my address.
I didn’t hear anything for two months. Must be grief, I thought, knowing how grief grinds down even our noblest intentions. Then came a brief update. She was working overtime to pay off loans and she would send the ring very soon.
There was silence for another month and then, “Do you think you could pay for shipping? $250. I can send ring soon if you help. Insurance is very expensive.” I hesitated and asked if she could send me a photograph. I received a photo of the shipping invoice. I wondered if she purposely misunderstood my request. Yet, I sent off $250 whizzing over international wires and oceans. My guilt at having lost the ring had me suspending disbelief as well!
Then came months of silence. My enquiries received short assurances. Eventually even those stopped. My husband, daughter and a few friends articulated what I was afraid to admit. I had zero evidence that the ring was even in her possession. My $250 is likely chasing a phantom halfway across the world, I thought, doubling my regret.
But a year later a package arrived with a customs stamp declaring “$10 value”. My ring, with a typewritten letter! She was ashamed for taking so long. And she had used the ring again. A close friend went into a coma after a motorcycle accident. The ring was put on his finger. Within a few days he awoke, then got better. After six months he passed away peacefully. Now she was afraid of using it “too much” and was sending it back. At the bottom was an envelope. I opened it to find a check for $250.
All of this transpired five years ago. The ring and Hahn’s check, both remain with me. Unused. Uncashed. Priceless.
You can also listen to this story here:
Yes, I made all of that up. The ring was never found. :-) I submit to its loss and have traded it for this imagination of its significance in this universe. It shall remain forever beautiful in my memory.
A poem. In suspension, again…
For the third time in the age of Coronavirus, I found myself journeying to/from India - this time replete with flight cancellations, missed connections and more, thanks to the madman in Russia! With so many reminders of the need for acceptance and equanimity in our hardest journeys, I hope this resonates with anyone who worries about ageing parent in far off lands.
Extra!
I stay away from politics mostly because my blog is about more unifying concerns; but also because of the breakdown of political dialog in our polarized times. However it feels remiss to not acknowledge the war in Ukraine. I am stunned by the bravery of Ukrainian people (like this little girl) and their President Volodymyr Zelensky who has redefined for us what we ought to expect of our leaders.
Putin’s illegitimate invasion came as a surprise. It would be equally foolish to write it off as a short lived blip in our post Cold War future. Instead it seems analogous to the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand, and doesn’t bode well for our civilizational future. But what can you and I do except watch haplessly?
A few ways to help, or at least not make this worse, in the short term: 1) Send help, aid to Ukraine as possible 2) Do distinguish between the Russian people and their awful government. In times of war such conflation helps no one. More than 13000+ Russian anti-war protestors have already been arrested! This in a country where one can be killed for speaking out against the government (quite unlike the #noskininthegame fashion marches privileged American kids indulge in). And 3) Push world leaders to squeeze the Russian state using every economic, technological and geopolitical leverage! All this will evolve but right now this is all we have…
Exciting development from Substack!
You can now read Arrivals and Departures in the new Substack app for iPhone.
With the app, you’ll have a dedicated Inbox for my Substack and any others you subscribe to. Overall, it’s a big upgrade to the reading experience. The Substack app is currently available for iOS or you can join the Android waitlist here.
How fantastic is this story/happening. It moved me to tears.
Loved it! Infact, the story kept me captivated in it's world:)