While checking in on a plane, as I take the boarding pass, I am always asked “Sir, Do you have any baggage”?
Well of course I do have baggage, everybody does – What kind of life would it be if there is no baggage? Baggage is the one thing that makes us who we are from whatever we were. I carry this baggage everywhere with me, I had to – from the time I wake up till I sleep. I carry this baggage and it is ever growing.
Am I happy about it? Sometimes yes and sometimes no, but I know for sure irrespective of what path I had taken the baggage would still be there, may be in a different form, may be as a different bag, may be in a different experience, may be as a different learning, but for sure I would have a baggage. If I am travelling without a baggage it would imply that I am only starting my journey, in order to learn much from the world out there, to fall – to get back, to struggle, to loose and to win, to cry – to smile, to be hurt – to be contented.
I don’t care how heavy it is, I cherish carrying it – I am what I am from this. Few are to be cherished, few to be sorrowed out, few to be ignored to fade away – but each of it I would like to carry around to remind myself of everything that has bygone to be made bygone by only taking the learning part from it to make the present and future better.
Sometimes I am proud of myself having lived through and learned through from the baggage, but sometimes it just feels meaningless, wanting to give up the baggage and start everything afresh. Like wiping out the slate to restart the painting. Someone said life is like a white slate, paint it as you want, write whatever you want, give it color, and give it life. Sometimes it feels exciting to restart, but sometimes it is too tiring, when slate is done and fully painted – the colors, the writings, the painting seems meaningless and needs to be redone. Sometimes it is this color and sometimes that, mind wanders without knowing what color to settle for, sometimes wishing for the color that I don’t have, sometimes ignoring the colors I have, sometimes longing and crying for the colors that seems I could have but never will have.
It is hard to accept, it is hard to give up, it is hard to ignore, and perhaps even harder to empty the baggage. I believe I can be way too stronger not just to carry the baggage but even dare to take on more, taken on chances not just choices.
If everything I wished for, everything I wanted and everything that I had asked, had I got it all with ease then what else would be left in the world to look for? Everything is a struggle, everything is learning, everything is fun – but everything finally accounts for this baggage and always adding on to the baggage. So everything comes with a baggage and everyone comes with a baggage, some show it off, some hide it away, some cherish it.., and well I do little of all.