It's official now. After short, sometimes comfortable, sometimes not so much, experiences with many others I am finally engaged to one. The one. The only.
My partner in action. My partner, also, in crime.
The keeper of all things dear, important and ah yes, extremely important.
The one that will stay by me in all walks (and also some brisk walks, runs, dodges and last minute chases) of life.
My clutch in weak times.
My pillow on rickety nights.
Oh yes! Definitely. That too.
The one that will be, in time, not just my need but my spirit, my companion, my identity.
And that one is...
P.S. I promise to treat you well. To not overwhelm you with my various coloured whims and fantasies. To not throw upon you my 'weight', that is, any more than you can take by the way. To not trouble you with petty issues, accessories and other possessions.
Afterthoughts:
Romance, creativity and other things aside, my backpack is as essential to my travel as anything else. And my first backpack, which this is, gives me as much joy as any other first-time possession gives anyone. The first cricket bat, the first pair of heels, the first visiting card.
They mean your initiation into a sport, a profession or a state of being.
My backpack means to me, mine into travelling.
It is the one constant entity that will see me through all the random and varied travels.
And without making it sound unreasonably glorious or like a marketing call, I want to just that... this really means everything to me. And quite literally so when I'm travelling!
And why should it not?
For, there can be no backpacking without a backpack!
