The Baggage

The tall flower plants blocked my view of her as she emerged from the office. The laptop case suspended from the left shoulder, her handbag from the other. A dossier in one hand and the cell phone in the other. She was struggling and I could clearly see that.

But I was so glad to see her. It was after a long interval.

I had been waiting for a quite a while but then, I would have waited any length of time for her.

As she spotted me, she tried to wave at me. There she was, struggling to handle so many things at one time; the burden weighing her down. It was one of those testing phases of life for her, phases that can shake anyone. But one gritty woman she was (and still is).

“Waiting for long? I know, you have been,” she said. I gestured at her laptop. “What?” she asked. “You can give it to me,” I said.

“Don’t worry, I can manage. I do this every day,” she said.

“See, I won’t exactly like carrying a ladies handbag but you can give me the laptop.” I was insistent. So was she. “That one is a little more heavy than normal. There are so many things stuffed inside,” she said.

“That’s what friends are for - to carry your extra baggage, are not they?” I quipped, extending my hand to take the laptop bag.

She looked at me, as if trying to figure something out, and then said: “You are right.”

A share of her burden on my shoulders, she and I hit the road. Talking vacuities...