The Baggage We Carry

In the hands of an air traveller, the backpack is a weapon, if not of mass destruction, then certainly of random mayhem. The said passenger assured of his or her cool quotient inflicts damage on those they pass, without having any awareness of what they have wrought. Every time they turn, someone needs to duck. If this is pointed out to the offender, all one gets is a look of injured innocence.

That being said, the backpack is the great baggage innovation of our times. It allows for the load to be carried on the back a la women harrying their children in the mountains and leaves the hands free. It evokes a sense of casualness and allows for many other random items to be stuffed inside. It has become the default uniform for techies and start-up founders.?

The evolution of luggage has taken some interesting turns. Early memories recall the large metal trunk with the name and address prominently painted on the side (and the front and the back just to be safe). These coffin-like structures were family heirlooms having been carefully handed over from one generation to another. These were accompanied by bedrolls, those rolled up cloth thingamajigs that not only were stuffed with mattresses and pillows but all kinds of sundry last-minute additions that could be wedged into its capacious insides. It was an offence under some ancient law to travel with less than 32 items, including pickle jars, and most of the train trip was consumed by counting and recounting the items of baggage. Arguments about whose responsibility was which item were common. The task of boarding and alighting from trains was a complex logistical nightmare, with luggage being lined up against the door for a quick exit, particularly if one’s destination was a small town where the train halted only briefly.

The porter was a very important part of our travel lives. An individual carried positively illegal amounts of weight and often had to race up and down massive flights of stairs in order to take us to the required platform. A family member was appointed to keep pace with the porter, and the fear of him running away with one’s luggage led to a lot of fleet-footed chasing. And inevitably there was a prolonged argument about what he should be paid, which looking back feels extremely insensitive, but then it was ritual that could not be escaped.

The design of the luggage reflected what the idea of travel meant at that time. It was seen as a massive dislocation, where one had to uproot oneself even if momentarily from a familiar way of life to another. One needed anchorage, and the comfort of familiar things hence the prodigious amount of luggage that needed to be carried. Anywhere outside the hometown was a foreign land, and the prospect of travel was laced with fear. People were seen off and received at stations, as if they could get lost in transit. The ‘I have reached safely postcard or trunk call was mandatory. In the case of our family, every departure needed to be preceded by paying respects to the almighty, ancestors who looked down benignly from photographs and elders along with the prasad of curd and jaggery, so as to stave off any mishaps.

The coming of the plastic moulded bag was a shock of modernity that reverberated through the corridors of travel. That luggage could come in such bright colours and could look so shiny was an adjustment that took some doing. The most stunning addition to the product was something hitherto unimaginable- wheels! The idea that luggage, no matter how heavy could be carried by an individual made the whole idea of travel feel less burdensome.?

This also marked a shift in the culture around travel. Plastic shininess was a sign that travel could be inviting, fun even. The classic travellers’ bag was the one which had stickers pasted on to it from all over the world. Being well travelled began to carry cultural cachet. Not needing a porter at all times meant a certain sense of freedom. The metal trunks of an earlier era suddenly felt too onerous as travel took on a lighter hue.?

This shift went much further with the coming of soft luggage. We now jauntily carried around bags made of much flimsier material, toting it around or carelessly slinging it across our shoulders. The travel bag became an accessory, a design artifact that looked as good as it was handy. Symbolically it represented the greater comfort we had with stepping out into unfamiliar realms. We did not need the hardness of metal or moulded plastic to keep the outside world out and the soft lines of the bags were a clue to how we were regarding our own identities with greater fluidity.

The backpack is then an extension of soft luggage, and first came to be used as an adventure accessory. Hiking was easier with baggage being laden on one’s back. It soon made the transition to the workplace as an easy way to carry one’s laptop and other sundry items. The move from the briefcase to the backpack signals the shift from the idea of work as a formal title with rigid codes to that of work as an outgrowth of one’s life. It helps that in the culture of the day, stuffing in a few jeans and t-shirts makes one prepared for anything, board meetings included. The need for baggage formats that allow for formal clothes to stay ironed and pristine has reduced considerably.?

How we carry our baggage is at one level a functional need. At another it speaks for how we think about travel, whether we are excited by the idea of fearful of it, the boundaries we draw between ourselves and the outside world, how we regard the idea of work. It is a little capsule of a larger culture, as most material objects are wont to be.?