Let’s talk about baggage. Baggage, by definition means a number of containers, bags or cases that hold a traveler’s articles together. A traveler’s articles. What might they be? They could be memories, notes, pictures, clothes, cameras. But baggage is always heavy, sometimes they break your back while the rest of the times, it’s a beautiful feeling to be carrying them around when someone is with you to help unpack. Baggage is not made of things you stuff into a corner of your mind, to delve into random access memories when the time comes. No, baggage is your journey deep into life. Into the sorrows that you wish you forget but you cannot. Into happiness that you wish you remember but it somehow fades out of your memory. We all have our bags with the weights strapped onto our backs at all times; this is the reason for fatigue. This is why you don’t feel what you should be. Your baggage is the vessel for you to travel in. The one thing that holds you steadfast onto reality, where you know with or without that weight, you might phase out.
We walk around, luggage in tow, bumping into strangers. Their smiles and frowns let you feel the amount of weight of the world that bogs them down. True to the nature of baggage, it always has a way of putting us in a state of comfortable discomfort. You will forever keep that baggage; it makes you a part of being as human as you can possibly be. As broken and settled as you could blossom into. Carrying this load throughout life could make a bitter person of you, it’s heavy and unwanted but it’s your own weight. Slowly you walk through the meandering paths that unfold before you every moment, make your decisions, be strong while failing at it too. And while you take a stroll, someone bumps into you. Looks straight into you, deep inside, and knows that what you carry is too heavy because it shows through the fading radiance of your eyes. That someone shows a side of their being and you know they have the same weight with them. The weight of disappointments, failure, sadness, lies, sorrow, unhappiness; but this makes you hopeful. Hopeful that they might be the person that will help open up your baggage, sort things for you in a discreet manner, throw away the things that make up the heavy weight, close your bags and send you off again. And you would want to do exactly the same thing for them. You don’t see them for how they look, dress or the broken smiles within their perfect grins, but you see them for their live, beating heart that makes you happy. You see them for the strolls that both of you would take, baggage in tow, holding hands and sharing a comfortable sense of belonging in a world full of insanity and suffering.
As heavy as baggage could be, you only need to wait around at the train station for the helper that will take your heart away and put your baggage safely in place.