The Story Of Our Bags By Arshmah Siddiqui
- Noor Ala Noor Blogs
- Apr 30, 2019
- 3 min read
We carried our bags. Our heavy, dark, ugly bags. Some of us had been carrying too many bags for too long, others amongst us were comparatively newer to this bag-carrying scene. But, we all carried some.
Their weight would make our shoulders slouch, their burden would weaken our smiles, they would make us selfish in the love we spread, for we only managed to love when the relationship’s worth was bigger than the size of our bags. And in the world of today, how many such relationships could we have? So, we stayed the way we were, sealed up creatures, faking smiles in times of need, being stingy with our love, hope and care.
Those bags were a thing, they effected our every move. But you know the irony? We didn’t accept that we carried such bags. We didn’t want to. Maybe because it was too embarrassing? In a world where we’re expected to carry only flowers, why would we admit to carrying stones? We denied their existence, and hence, their effects. We felt too much misery, and never knew where it was coming from.
But, some of us were wiser. Some would accept the existence and the weight of their bags. They would know what it was that was gradually taking away all the light in their eyes, the jump in their steps. Why didn’t they let go of the bags, you think? In all likelihood, they didn’t know where to dump them off. In a world full of apparent flowers, there’s no place for stones.
So we walked in one day, with our bags dragging along, with our half-hearted smiles, struggling to carry through. We looked at the people, they seemed to be different. They seemed to be moving about with such ease as if they didn’t have bags. How could someone not have bags, we wondered? Or was the size of their bags too small? Their smiles would reach their eyes, their love would radiate across miles, they seemed to be floating! There was a feel to the place, that every time we entered, we could feel our bags lighten. Akin to how things become weightless in space? Yes, that. How does that happen, we’d wonder?
Maybe this temporary reduction in the weight of our bags was the reason we kept coming. Month after month, week after week, day after day. It began working like a magnet. We would go there, listen to those people, be with those people, those floating fleeting people. We’d feel a vague timid sense that maybe someone had taken a stone or two out of our bags. We didn’t know what was happening, we just lived for the effects, for that fleeting feeling of weightlessness. And so, we stayed.
These floating people were never repulsed by the sight of our ugly looking bags. Their hugs would be big enough to take us in, along with our despicable, attached parcels. How could someone hug so big, we’d wonder?
Days passed until a very startling realization set in; our bags had lost weight! and size too. We would stand in awe, wondering where and when did that happen. We’d smile at the ecstasy brought by the feeling of lightness. How come we didn’t realize?
Then, somebody finally asked us; how did the months go by?
We stopped for a while, and thought.
It felt like a moment.
A warm and hazy moment. Clouded by feelings of love and joy.
A moment of heartfelt embrace, by our favourite floating people.
An embrace that freed us of the weight we carried, the weight of our dark unspeakable deeds.
When they ask us what Aama felt like, we tell them;
A warm heartfelt embrace, one, that we wished would never end.
Arshmah Siddiqui Dated : April 30th, 2019.
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