Conveyer Belt Syndrome

I don’t know why everyone says air travel is faster. I swear it takes the same amount of time for me. Seriously..if you include the time I have to wait to collect my baggage (Have you noticed, how it is luggage in trains, but baggage in airlines? Why?! I don’t want to be collecting baggage!).

I believe all of us are born with conveyer belt kundlis. It all seems pre-determined to me. Otherwise why would my luggage always come last? Always! No matter when I check in, what I do. Mine is the last solitary bag on the conveyer belt, looking relieved to be out of the confines of the aircraft. And if you are one of those people whose bags come first, get off my blog RIGHT NOW!

These are the people who bug me the most, the ones whose bags come first. They look around with smug expressions, looking at us lesser mortals who still have to wait. They say “excuse me, that’s mine”, even if no one is blocking their way. They pick up their bag, lift their noses up towards the sky, glance at the other passengers as if to say “good luck to you, I am done” and walk away slowly, with 100 pairs of eyes looking at their backs wistfully. In my head, I always imagine them tripping and falling. 

Then there are the people who think each bag is theirs. No matter that colour, what size the bag is, they pick it up to check if their secret symbol is on it (much like the Bengali aunty I saw on my recent trip. First she picked up a sleek black bag, then she picked up a hideous multi coloured bag which should never have been made. I was beginning to wonder if she thought it was a shop with live ramp walk by the luggage or maybe a sushi bar or something, when she picked up a big red suitcase and left…let’s hope it really belonged to her!!) They turn it this way and that and look all over, in the hope that something, some mark will prove that this bag is theirs. Usually the bag has to be rejected by at least three members of the family before its put back on the conveyer belt. Man, woman and the wisest of them all – the child. “No mummy, this is not ours”… and that’s when the bag goes back on its circuitous journey to its rightful owner who is probably wondering if aliens have kidnapped his luggage. These people are the reason those florescent green suitcases were introduced. 

There are various kinds of luggage too. There are shiny, clean bags, with designer labels. There are suitcases that have been covered in various layers of protection, much like monkey capped east Indians. Among all this, there is always a single piece of luggage that goes round and round on the belt, waiting for its owner to claim it. No one touches this bag (Well..except that family which should have bought the florescent green bags). It rambles along, looking bored, like women who are sick of waiting for their husbands who are always late. 

First Round - Hello people. I can see he isn’t here yet. I’ll be back

Second round – So he isn’t here yet. Typical.Always taking me for granted

Third Round – What are you staring at? (To the Family – Don’t you dare pick me up again.. this is my third round you **%##)

The owner of such luggage is, usually, a man, with low bladder control.