Since the time we acquired itchy feet and began our travels, we have become aware of how little we need, even if we are away for a month, and how much we wind up stuffing into our suitcases.
We discover, halfway through the packing process, that the suitcase is too small for everything we want to carry — or, if it is large enough and everything fits in, then it is too heavy by airline standards. We can barely drag it to the front door, so how do we get it into a cab, get it out of the cab, get it on and off a luggage trolley, haul it onto the baggage belt at the check-in counter at the airport and hope against hope that it is within the allowable weight limit?
On our outward journeys to distant places, despite those extra clothes we carry and never get to wear, we are usually okay. The trouble begins on our return journey. Inveigled by all the goods and goodies on display in those cute little shops in picturesque old town squares, we splurge a little here and a lot there — and suddenly we find that we have dozens of extra packets and bags with us. We shove them into our suitcases, we pull and push and tamp down, strap everything in as tightly as we can, then sit on the suitcase to zip it up.
But we cannot rest easy. There is a nagging fear at the back of our minds that the suitcase may burst open en route and strew its contents all over the hold.
So, we unpack — and re-pack; go over each item we have bought; try to decide which ones to discard and which ones to keep. But every little thing is precious: Whether it is a magnet from Loch Ness or a chocolate leprechaun from Blarney Castle’s gift shop.
To get that picture of the exploding suitcase out of our minds, however, we spend half the night before the return journey packing and re-packing and weighing and re-weighing with hand-held scales with impossibly small numbers printed on them. We grumble and we argue and we wonder what an inspecting officer would say if he/she decided to open our suitcases and look at what we return with: “Setting up a magnet shop?” “Opening a confectionery store?” “No cookies in your country?”
It was with great relief, therefore, that we read a recent news report that said suitcases will soon get “smart”.
“We won’t have to go through all the tension and stress we experience each time we pack!” we exulted.
Suitcases will soon tell us their weight. With the help of a cell phone and built-in GPS they will keep tabs on themselves. They could have a pump that enables them to expand so that we get a carry-on bag as well. They could give us a ride through the airport when we find the distances just too much to cover in the allotted time. They could even call a cab for us.
Who knows what other features will be included by the time these “smart” suitcases roll out?
Maybe, they will let out a painful shriek when we try to overstuff them; maybe they will make warning noises when the chocolates we have bought go beyond the limits of good sense — and our total caloric requirement for the year; maybe they will shout “contraband” when something that is not meant to be carried is tucked away in them; maybe they will pack themselves; maybe they will teach us how to get smart enough to make use of all their smart features ...
Or maybe they will just get a life of their own and walk out on travellers like us.
Cheryl Rao is a journalist based in India.