Spice of Life | Shopping suitcase saga: Three cheers for our men from Mars

He was adamant and perhaps with a mental ‘Bole So Nihal’, he lifted my bag. To his horror (or pleasure), he realised it was weightless.

Walking toward the dais at the college alumni meet, I suddenly lost half my stature. While my right foot smartly strode forward, the left shoe sole got left behind! How I salvaged the situation and my lost dignity, is another story. At that moment, I decided that before adversity struck again, my shoe stock needed replenishment.

I thank all my male colleagues for their chivalry on official tours, helping me with my overloaded bags.

On the next visit to Delhi, I took a big empty ‘shopping suitcase’ with me, on the Shatabdi. And the fun began. Strolling comfortably with an empty suitcase, I walked confidently into the train. As I was about to lift my suitcase and place it on the overhead luggage loft, a gentleman gallantly offered to help. I politely declined. But he was adamant and perhaps with a mental ‘Bole So Nihal’, he lifted my bag. To his horror (or pleasure), he realised it was weightless. At his quizzical look, I promptly informed him that the suitcase was meant for carrying shopping bags back home.

On reaching Delhi, he helped me again. Thanking him, I silently prayed for such courteous souls on the evening train back to Chandigarh! As I began rolling out the suitcase from the train, other passengers quickly made way for the lady with the big bag!

At the station, a swarm of ‘coolies’ (porters) descended on me. Then appeared my second ‘knight in shining armour’ for the day. It was my husband’s colleague who had spotted me trying to fend off unwanted ‘coolie attention’. Grabbing the suitcase, he said he would take it to the cab. He did not heed my pleas of ‘no help needed’. As he started pushing it, he appreciatively commented on how a lady’s suitcase can also weigh nothing. I smiled politely.

As I shopped to my heart’s content, gorged on hot chocolate and pasta, I ruminated on trips abroad where one is forced to lug bags up the stairs, drag them around at airports and in trains, without an iota of sympathy or help from any quarter. On a train journey in Switzerland, as I waited for Shah Rukh Khan for my ‘Dilwale dulhaniya le jayenge’ moment, a young man spotted me with my two full bags. He snidely commented: “Are you staying in our country for six months?” Though miffed, I focused on my Swiss chocolate, and responded nonchalantly, “Not interested. I’m just contributing to your economy.”

I thank all my male colleagues for their chivalry on official tours, helping me with my overloaded bags. I cannot end this suitcase saga without narrating how honoured I felt when the legendary actor, Farooq Sheikh, gallantly helped me with my bags at Bengaluru airport, while the others waited in a queue to shake hands with him.

Coming back to the current, empty suitcase saga, I have to mention that I had to engage a coolie in the evening in Chandigarh. My unsuspecting driver, who lifted the morning suitcase, is still nursing his back!

My husband is smart. He does not travel abroad with me. In India, he hands me over his lighter bag, while pushing my suitcase, grumbling, “What do you stuff in your bags?” I don’t need to respond. I’m happy to be from Venus. Three cheers to our men from Mars!

devpreetasingh@gmail.com

The writer is a retired civil servant and currently a practising advocate