Some brand new. Some worn and old. Some with ‘fragile’ tags stuck on them. Some a myriad of vivid colors. And some with funny stickers from different countries. People traveling from one place to another by air, packing their prized possessions in bags and carting these bags around with them. What secrets could they be holding? What trials could they be facing? What joys and sadness could they be experiencing in their lives? For Roy, every piece of luggage had a different story to tell. For the last two decades of his life, he had been working as an airport baggage handler in Hyderabad. His days consisted of loading and unloading cargo. Sometimes on the tarmac, where baggage would be loaded on or off the aircraft ramp, sometimes in the bag room where checked luggage would be sorted, and sometimes just in front of the luggage pick-up belt, separated from the restless waiting passengers by a flapping rubber curtain. Roy was a stoic worker, known to be quiet and dreamy. He was 50, unmarried, and living on his own in a rented one-bedroom apartment. Due to his benign personality and tolerant nature, his colleagues often pushed him
MARCH 2021
to trade shifts, something he would do without complaint. It was not that he loved his job, it’s just that he didn’t have anything else to do. Roy had one quirk which was that his pulse would rise when he would catch sight of a, particularly interestinglooking bag. It would inspire a certain story to weave around in his mind, on what kind of person owned the bag. Did he have a lover? Does she have children? Is he traveling to meet his long-lost grandpa? Is she running away from a stifling home? He would start his stories based on some small observation, a sticker from Egypt or a tag from Spain and while his hands worked automatically, his mind would be whirling in fantasies, elaborate adventures, and thriller mysteries. For Roy, this job allowed an escape into a world where he could connect dots and make beautiful stories. The baggage belt was his pathway into this world. On a particularly hot summer afternoon, Roy was hard at work on the tarmac unloading baggage off a Boeing 747 which had just gotten in from Mumbai. With droplets of sweat forming on his brow and the regulation shirt sticking to his back, his normally cool composure showed hints of irritation. After the loading was complete, he got into the trailer and made the short trip to the baggage belt dock. He hopped out and STORIZEN MAGAZINE
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