The baggage-claim area is a great leveler. Prince or pauper, business-class pampered mogul or the economy-class huddled software engineer, regardless of your tag, you have to jump through the same hoops when it comes to picking your baggage. It is inescapable.
If you land in India, the great Indian mela starts right here, at the baggage-claim area. It's a lot like our traffic, never a dull moment. Carousels, running conveyor belts, suddenly-stopped-running belts, baggage on the belt, baggage outside the belt, baggage-about-to-tip-over from the belt, travelers, attendants, side-kicks, everything choc-a-bloc...you name it! It isn't easy for the flight-weary or the faint-hearted. Regardless of how we are built, our baggage for sure, is made of sterner stuff.
They say that a home-raised village-cow is equipped with its own biological Google-map! Even if you were to abandon it miles away, it will make its way back to the owner with unerring accuracy.
Our baggage does even better. We are challenged when it comes to our multi-leg international flights- to find the correct flight, the correct gate and wade through miles of airport-terminals, corridors and security-scanners. Surprisingly, the baggage manages to do all this, that too unaccompanied with effortless ease! It's baffling. Little wonder, we question and repeatedly, "Does the baggage go all the way to San Francisco or do I pick it up at Dubai?". "No sir! It is checked all the way to San Francisco!" We are forced to confirm one more time. "You mean I pick it up....er...er....at San Francisco directly?" "Yes sir", comes the blunt reply.
And sure enough, it's there for you at the carousel at San Francisco- blinking with the same beady eyes, just the way you left it at Bangalore! It's simply unbelievable!
If ever our baggage had a catwalk of their own, their two minutes of fame, where a hundred eyes stayed glued to them, it has to be at the conveyor belt. Unlike a regular catwalk, you don't have to be an eye-candy to be a head-turner here. In fact, the more unconventional your looks, the more points you get. Just think about it- all your branded suitcases file past...prim and proper. And suddenly, out of the blue, stumbles along.....this box of Alphonso mangoes! Just a simple cardboard box, wriggling its way, with a vernacular script scrawled all over, from some nondescript place on this planet. It has no zips, no handles, no bells or whistles! If you have to lift it, it is by the scruff of the neck- by the coir-rope which keeps the box together. As make-shift and raw as that, but it invites all attention! And as it floats by, through the crack in the cardboard lid, you spot the little yellow of the ripening Alphonso mango! You break into a smile, run your tongue over your lips- it's so overly inviting, standing right there at the carousel! The Alphonso mango gets more shutter-bugs than anyone out there!
A 14-hour flight is grueling. It's hard on the body for sure, but it takes a greater toll on the mind, reducing you to an absolute zombie. Suddenly, you can't recall anything about how your luggage looked! It's a state of total blankness. You can't recall if it was black or navy-blue or red, rectangular or triangular. As the pieces of luggage float past, your sleepy brain gives you opposite messages. Either it urges you to reach out for every piece out there because they all look familiar or it tells you to stay aloof because none of them seem vaguely related. You kick yourself. At least, you could have spent that one minute to tie a friendship-band of sorts, some terribly ugly ribbon which would have made life simple. Now, it's a lost cause. You drift off and think about Rama. The other day, he would have felt just as helpless, reduced to a mute spectator, watching Vali and Sugriva clawing at each other! They both looked alike, much like these suitcases so that he couldn't tell one from the other. The solution was simple. Sugriva wore a garland the next day and now, Rama could unerringly aim his arrow at Vali. It was a simple and effective plan.
I took a leaf out of this episode. On my way back, I tied this most eye-piercing green, fluorescent ribbon at the handle of the black suitcase. But life isn't as easy as the Ramayana narrative. To my utmost surprise, at the Bangalore airport, a dozen black suitcases all landed up, with the same ribbon at the handle! Imagine what Rama would have done had Vali also turned up with a garland the next day? For sure, he would have broken his Kodanda bow in two, and moved on... to other vocations in life!!!
Sometimes, an enormous waiting game gets played out. The last few get to play this game, and yes, you are one of them! Suddenly, no one wants to pick up suitcases from the ring any more. The suitcases keep spinning and spinning for eternity. Each time, you look at it expectantly, only to realize that it's the same one which picked your curiosity the last time too! "Why are they even there in the first place...if no one wants them!" you feel like yelling. The problem is- all the players out there... are equally affected by a sudden bout of amnesia. No one remembers his suitcase anymore. Each one is waiting for the other to blink first, take his suitcase and move, so that the last man standing can take the left-over and leave!! This war of attrition can be terribly draining, and played out at a point when you can barely stand.
Suitcases are like us. Each one has a distinct personality. I believe, we deserve the suitcase we get! There are party-animals out there, who have hit it off with other suitcases, in the course of their journey. It is evident that they have had a great time- they come bunched up, all heady and excited, tumbling down.....almost falling over each other...and off the conveyor belt!! And then, there is the loner. The rest of humanity has walked away with its bags and you stand alone at the carousel. It is terribly lonely out there.....with carousels stretching till the horizon and not a soul in sight. (This is of course the US). You feel you could get mugged. That's when the loner ambles along, shuffling his feet, on the conveyor belt, with not a care in the world! You have half a mind to give him a nice kick in the back. He richly deserves it, but you restrain yourself. At least, he showed up. Otherwise, you would have had to file a missing claim, which would be another headache!
Gently, I open suitcase flap and peer into the contents for confirmation. There is an overwhelming sense of relief- to spot a bright-red jockey brief! It is surely mine! I yank out a trolley, stack-up the suitcase, wheel it past the sliding door......and melt into the sunshine! I have just one thought running in my mind. The next time, I am going to play it real safe. My suitcase will be easiest to spot. He's going to be dressed like Superman, with my red-jockey on the outside! Surely, no one would have thought of that!!
If you land in India, the great Indian mela starts right here, at the baggage-claim area. It's a lot like our traffic, never a dull moment. Carousels, running conveyor belts, suddenly-stopped-running belts, baggage on the belt, baggage outside the belt, baggage-about-to-tip-over from the belt, travelers, attendants, side-kicks, everything choc-a-bloc...you name it! It isn't easy for the flight-weary or the faint-hearted. Regardless of how we are built, our baggage for sure, is made of sterner stuff.
They say that a home-raised village-cow is equipped with its own biological Google-map! Even if you were to abandon it miles away, it will make its way back to the owner with unerring accuracy.
Our baggage does even better. We are challenged when it comes to our multi-leg international flights- to find the correct flight, the correct gate and wade through miles of airport-terminals, corridors and security-scanners. Surprisingly, the baggage manages to do all this, that too unaccompanied with effortless ease! It's baffling. Little wonder, we question and repeatedly, "Does the baggage go all the way to San Francisco or do I pick it up at Dubai?". "No sir! It is checked all the way to San Francisco!" We are forced to confirm one more time. "You mean I pick it up....er...er....at San Francisco directly?" "Yes sir", comes the blunt reply.
And sure enough, it's there for you at the carousel at San Francisco- blinking with the same beady eyes, just the way you left it at Bangalore! It's simply unbelievable!
If ever our baggage had a catwalk of their own, their two minutes of fame, where a hundred eyes stayed glued to them, it has to be at the conveyor belt. Unlike a regular catwalk, you don't have to be an eye-candy to be a head-turner here. In fact, the more unconventional your looks, the more points you get. Just think about it- all your branded suitcases file past...prim and proper. And suddenly, out of the blue, stumbles along.....this box of Alphonso mangoes! Just a simple cardboard box, wriggling its way, with a vernacular script scrawled all over, from some nondescript place on this planet. It has no zips, no handles, no bells or whistles! If you have to lift it, it is by the scruff of the neck- by the coir-rope which keeps the box together. As make-shift and raw as that, but it invites all attention! And as it floats by, through the crack in the cardboard lid, you spot the little yellow of the ripening Alphonso mango! You break into a smile, run your tongue over your lips- it's so overly inviting, standing right there at the carousel! The Alphonso mango gets more shutter-bugs than anyone out there!
A 14-hour flight is grueling. It's hard on the body for sure, but it takes a greater toll on the mind, reducing you to an absolute zombie. Suddenly, you can't recall anything about how your luggage looked! It's a state of total blankness. You can't recall if it was black or navy-blue or red, rectangular or triangular. As the pieces of luggage float past, your sleepy brain gives you opposite messages. Either it urges you to reach out for every piece out there because they all look familiar or it tells you to stay aloof because none of them seem vaguely related. You kick yourself. At least, you could have spent that one minute to tie a friendship-band of sorts, some terribly ugly ribbon which would have made life simple. Now, it's a lost cause. You drift off and think about Rama. The other day, he would have felt just as helpless, reduced to a mute spectator, watching Vali and Sugriva clawing at each other! They both looked alike, much like these suitcases so that he couldn't tell one from the other. The solution was simple. Sugriva wore a garland the next day and now, Rama could unerringly aim his arrow at Vali. It was a simple and effective plan.
I took a leaf out of this episode. On my way back, I tied this most eye-piercing green, fluorescent ribbon at the handle of the black suitcase. But life isn't as easy as the Ramayana narrative. To my utmost surprise, at the Bangalore airport, a dozen black suitcases all landed up, with the same ribbon at the handle! Imagine what Rama would have done had Vali also turned up with a garland the next day? For sure, he would have broken his Kodanda bow in two, and moved on... to other vocations in life!!!
Sometimes, an enormous waiting game gets played out. The last few get to play this game, and yes, you are one of them! Suddenly, no one wants to pick up suitcases from the ring any more. The suitcases keep spinning and spinning for eternity. Each time, you look at it expectantly, only to realize that it's the same one which picked your curiosity the last time too! "Why are they even there in the first place...if no one wants them!" you feel like yelling. The problem is- all the players out there... are equally affected by a sudden bout of amnesia. No one remembers his suitcase anymore. Each one is waiting for the other to blink first, take his suitcase and move, so that the last man standing can take the left-over and leave!! This war of attrition can be terribly draining, and played out at a point when you can barely stand.
Suitcases are like us. Each one has a distinct personality. I believe, we deserve the suitcase we get! There are party-animals out there, who have hit it off with other suitcases, in the course of their journey. It is evident that they have had a great time- they come bunched up, all heady and excited, tumbling down.....almost falling over each other...and off the conveyor belt!! And then, there is the loner. The rest of humanity has walked away with its bags and you stand alone at the carousel. It is terribly lonely out there.....with carousels stretching till the horizon and not a soul in sight. (This is of course the US). You feel you could get mugged. That's when the loner ambles along, shuffling his feet, on the conveyor belt, with not a care in the world! You have half a mind to give him a nice kick in the back. He richly deserves it, but you restrain yourself. At least, he showed up. Otherwise, you would have had to file a missing claim, which would be another headache!
Gently, I open suitcase flap and peer into the contents for confirmation. There is an overwhelming sense of relief- to spot a bright-red jockey brief! It is surely mine! I yank out a trolley, stack-up the suitcase, wheel it past the sliding door......and melt into the sunshine! I have just one thought running in my mind. The next time, I am going to play it real safe. My suitcase will be easiest to spot. He's going to be dressed like Superman, with my red-jockey on the outside! Surely, no one would have thought of that!!
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| San Francisco Airport- Sketch done on location! (Air Alaska in foreground) |
Good one :) Had me smiling.
ReplyDeleteGood one :) Had me smiling.
ReplyDeleteRolling in laughter! Thought suitcase identification is my problem only - one who very rarely travels by air and sits through th flight on the edge of the seat!
ReplyDeleteThanks Chitra for your kind comments!!!
Delete