More than 6 months ago, we had a concert at my college. I woke up early even though one is not supposed to, after a night filled with dance and hooting. Let me give you a heads up here. As this story is based in Ahmedabad, so don’t expect a regular and happening nightlife. Unlike 26 other states in India, we are deprived of alcohol and I think that is the reason why all my stories begin with dawn.
I was sitting with a friend of mine and I found a ring shining in the sun hiding under some leaves and lots of dust. Post analysis, we concluded that it’s a pure gold ring. We instantly created all the obvious stories that we would sell it and spend all the money on ourselves. Sometimes, I question whether our impulses grow old with us or not?
I don’t know why we ended up sending an email on the college group asking, whether anyone had lost a ring?
No responses.
(Just as the impulse had wished)
We thought we would wait for a week and then sell it off, as if we would have lived happily ever after by selling the presumably glorious ring. But again the good person within us didn’t let us take a step in that direction. The impulse was getting weaker.
And when we had almost forgotten about the golden ring, my phone rang and one of my junior’s claimed that the path towards the glorious future belonged to her friend. Those were the last words whispered by the impulse. With the death of the impulse, now I know why my heart skipped a beat.
Due to the sorrow caused by the death of the impulse, I asked myself then, what if it’s a lie? I became a detective for a while and started interrogating the woman who claimed the golden ring.
Damn, her responses were way too close to the facts.
The claimant also sent a picture, and there my little circle of shining hope was residing on her finger. A part of me didn’t want to give it away, but the larger part of me was indifferent and was okay with letting it go.
The post war (happening within me) scenario made me learn a little more about happiness. The claimant was so happy, and told me that she had never imagined, she would find her ring back. And somehow in her happiness I found mine too.
Now, while writing this, there is no part of me chasing the dream which already belonged to someone else. When I was giving back her ring, I experienced happiness, happiness in letting go. In the very moment, I realized I have got more than what she possessed. While she had lost all the hope, I had kept it safe and alive.
As my conscience mocked at my impulse, I felt elated and proud of having both of them with me. Because without either one of them, I wouldn’t have understood that life will always have bigger plans.
Diamond Dogs 
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