Lost And Unfounded!

He was very sure that he had lost it. Where exactly it happened, however, he didn't know. At the time he moved to his permanent home it was very much there with him. But after a few days he started becoming increasingly aware of its absence. He didn't know where exactly to look for it or to search for it in an organized way. The term ‘organized way’ seemed to amuse him. ‘Why the hell am I confused about it, and confounding it?’ he thought. The answer eluded him. ‘Yes, I don’t know the spot where I dropped it and lost it, whether it was night or day when I did so; but how careless of me not to have any idea about it!’ his mind raved on aimlessly. Suddenly he remembered one old joke, and at least it managed to cheer him up a lot.

One moonless night a pedestrian found a stranger desperately searching for something under the street light on a lonely stretch. The pedestrian sensed that the person did not belong to this part of the town. As the stranger steadfastly went on with his search, limited only to the lighted area of the grassy patch, he became curious, and called out to him in a bid to help him out, “Hey guy! What’s it you looking for?”

“My small purse that I dropped while counting the coins in it.” The man answered without turning or looking up.

“Are you sure you dropped it here? It’s possible that perhaps you don’t remember exactly where you lost it.”

“I'm very sure about it—that I didn't drop it here. I seemed to have dropped it at least ten yards further down the street.”

The pedestrian looked dumbfounded now: “Then why on earth are you looking over here?”

The stranger looked up at him this time, and said with a smile, “You must be kidding. That part is shrouded with darkness—pitch black it is. Even if I did drop it there how the hell would I ever find it! Here there is light at least!”

Yes, there was no logic in that stranger’s ways, it was weird in fact: he thought with a grin. But somehow, that weirdness seems relevant in his case too: he doesn't know where he lost it or where to look for it, there being no lighted area here as in the stranger’s case. Further, to make it rather infuriating, he doesn't even know if what he lost is tangible or intangible. If it’s intangible then how would he ever find it? He thought ruefully.

The news anchor’s raised voice broke his reverie. The anchor was excited, obviously because there were reports of more deaths from several countries. Agitated suspense growing within he began to watch the television news bulletin, with more attention now. That god-damned killer virus, it is raging relentlessly, without any clue as to when it is going to stop, or if at all. And, it hit him that very moment.

He knows now what he lost. Yes, it’s due to the rampaging Coronavirus that has robbed him of all his creative impulses or urges. And yes, he has lost his sense of reality. It got replaced by agitation, anxiety, irritation, frustration and anger: if it covers the full list of emotions. He doesn't know how to get out of its hold, unable to tear himself away from the human misery the virus has brought in its wake to the world. However, one thing cheers him: that he has managed to recount a joke and laugh at it too. More of such jokes would perhaps do the trick to find his lost property, he mused. But it sounds silly that jokes should make him ally with the reality. Here again, he is not sure: if this is the reality now, what is going to be the future or near future. Even the world he knows and understands doesn't perhaps know what it’s looking up to as yet…