The Lost Phone and the Unforgettable Journey





It was May 3rd, 2010 — the day Harsh, Vikash, and I were returning from Jamshedpur, famously known as Tatanagar.

I had been living there for the past eight months, preparing for my engineering entrance exams. My final test, for KIIT, had been held on May 2nd. Vikash had come from Dhanbad to appear for the same exam, while Harsh came to celebrate my birthday on May 1st.

Vikash was staying at his uncle’s house in Mango (not the fruit, but a locality in Jamshedpur), while Harsh and I were in my PG at Kadma Water Tank, near the police station.

We planned to return home by Swarnarekha Express, the only direct train running between Jamshedpur and Dhanbad. We were short of money, so I sold my tiffin box to a boy at the PG for ₹90 — enough for some snacks during the journey.

Around 11 a.m., we left the PG, walked to the main road, and caught an auto to Tatanagar Railway Station — the cleanest station I had seen till that day. Vikash arrived soon after. We bought our second-class sitting tickets; the train was scheduled to leave at around 1:30 p.m.

We grabbed some chips and a cold drink from the counter on Platform No. 2. The signal turned green, and the train began to move. None of us knew how adventurous this trip was about to become.

I had three heavy bags — two full of books, and one with clothes and other stuff. The journey began well. We were chatting, laughing, carefree. My exams were over, I was relaxed — only the Jharkhand Engineering Entrance remained.

As the banter between Harsh and Vikash went on, Vikash got up to use the washroom. When he returned, Harsh was taking something from his bag on the overhead rack. In a playful move, Vikash tried to take Harsh’s window seat. Both started pushing each other, laughing — and in that moment, Harsh’s phone slipped from his hand.

It was a Motorola multimedia phone, borrowed from home so we could click pictures. It had fallen somewhere inside the train — or so we thought. But we couldn’t find it anywhere.

The train began to slow down as we neared Garh Dhrubeshwar Station, where several tracks converged. I looked out of the window trying to guess which line we were on. When the train stopped for a brief two minutes, we all got down. I looked beneath the train — there was a gap in the flooring. The phone must have fallen through onto the tracks.

It felt unreal. Vikash looked guilty, Harsh was anxious, and I was thinking — he came all the way for my birthday, and now he’s lost his phone.

So I decided — I’ll try to get it back.

I told Harsh to continue to Dhanbad, and asked Vikash to come with me. The train started moving; Harsh boarded it. We began walking in the opposite direction, along the tracks, determined to find the phone.

After about 1.5 km, the area turned forested. Vikash grew nervous — “Let’s go back,” he said, “what if wild animals or Naxalites are around?”
I told him, “Just 500 meters more — if we don’t find it, we’ll return.”

And then suddenly, my eyes widened.
There it was — the phone! Its battery had separated due to the fall, but it was intact.
I felt like I had conquered a kingdom. Our faces lit up with joy.

Now came Mission: Getting Back.

The next halt for our train was Adra Junction, where it stopped for 25 minutes to change the engine. We thought — if we could catch another train, maybe we could reunite with Harsh there.

A railway worker passing by told us, “One train’s coming — if you’re lucky, catch it.”

We ran like crazy, panting, and managed to board it. But just as we reached Adra, the Swarnarekha Express was leaving. I tried to spot Harsh — no luck.

We got down, hungry and tired. There was a passenger train to Bhaga, a locality in Dhanbad. We bought tickets, ate some samosas, and finally left Adra.

After two hours, we reached Bhaga and took an auto toward Bhuli More. By the time we reached, I had only one rupee left — and we still needed ₹10 for the auto fare.

I found a payphone and called my father. Luckily, he picked up — and he happened to be just 200 meters away. I ran to him, borrowed ₹10, and said, “See you at home, I’m going!”

Vikash and I finally reached home. Sometime later, Harsh arrived too. He had called Nitesh from Dhanbad station to help with the bags. He looked relieved — we had found his phone.

That day was nothing short of an adventure — full of chaos, laughter, and lessons. By nightfall, everyone was home, safe and smiling.
And we all slept peacefully — like only 18-year-olds can after a day that felt straight out of a movie.

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