As a kid, I used to hate bags. They reminded of school & studies and were heavy to lift. I got bored of the ones I ever owned and used to like those that my classmates owned.
Once in college, I got rid of them and carried those bits & books in my own hands. For occasional days with excess load, a carry-bag would suffice. Over time, I attended fewer lectures which wiped out the need for carrying a bag as well. A notebook folded and tucked in the rear pocket along with a pen borrowed from some friend was just enough.
Then I started to work and things changed.
My eyes opened up to the existence of the opposite sex and their mannerisms. Amongst other things, I observed how a bag was their faithful companion. My interest in bags revived, however this time they were women’s bags.
The expert that I considered myself in matters related to women, I took up the challenge of exploring the contents and the need for a bag to a woman, upon myself.
The exercise however was futile as it lead to no meaningful conclusion. Here’s why:
On covert observation, I found a whole world emerge from of these bags; much more than what came out from the churning of the ocean in Indian mythology. Some of the items that I had listed down were: a hair-brush, a bottle of milk, milk-powder, a bottle of Bournvita, a tetra-pack of juice, make-up set, nail-cutter, silk scarf, money, books, hand-towels, mirrors, laptops, hard-disks, torch-lights, deodorants & perfumes, sun-glasses, Tang, chewing-gum, dry and wet tissues, sinus tablets, asthma-pumps, mobile chargers, cigarettes, lighters and match-boxes, biscuit packs, chocolates, Maggie, credit & debit cards, a full length kurta, music-players, CDs & DVDs, etc. The bag could easily qualify as a bedroom in motion, without the bed.
The next round of investigation, which was more overt, was a complete failure. On asking these women about what all they carried inside their bags and why, I realised that I had breached the line of chauvinism and acceptable diversions. I resorted to ‘plan b’ which was an immediate stagnation of interrogation.
My inquiry about this mysterious object so close to all women had to be terminated midway, however my intrigue in the object remained. It was at this moment that I decided to buy a bag for myself.
However, there was nothing that I actually had to stuff inside this bag.
Time passed. I started with keeping the two books which I always read alternatively inside it. I also decided to re-unite with my passion for music and started carrying my head-phones. I had avoided them since they would entangle and break when I would keep them in my pockets. Next, my wallet and my access card went in. Then, it was the turn of loose change to find a place for itself. My cigarette case and lighter fitted in as well. So did the ugly black umbrella which I hated to carry around. A bottle of water and a deodorant were the latest additions.
With time, there were more and more items being added to the list. My journeys to work and back are now marginally better. It is still less than a month and I am already dependant on it. It is my little world which I get back to for every little adventure outside my cocoon.
This bag made me realise that I have taken up a futile endeavour to figure out what went inside other people’s bags. What is important is what you want to keep inside it and make out of it.
There might also have been a few men like me who would have made similar efforts in the past. In case there was more that came out in their process of discovery, please feel free to share. As for me, I have given up.
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