Packing

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Ah, suitcases. There's two of them, one teal and one green, the largest I can find, large enough to carry my world a whole ocean away, but still compact enough to meet the 23kg limit. Usually, it would mean lugging them up the stairs, but of course, this is home. All I have to do is ask. As you can see, my sister comes over a day before I leave, and we essentially just watch, pretty much dumbfounded, as she carries out the most efficient packing routine anybody will ever see in their lives. Honestly, though, suitcase space is the site of endless negotiation, what belongs, what doesn't? It's sort of how I feel. Anyway, let's get to the suitcases. We have four lists, the clothes, the food, the health things, which is basically just different types of gas medicine lol, and some of the random kitchen stuff. <<if $clothes && $jeans && $scoobydoosweater && $blanket && $earrings && $purse>> ✓ [[Clothes & Accessories Packed|apparelsuitcase]] <<else>> ☐ [[Clothes & Accessories|apparelsuitcase]]<</if>> <<if $medicines && $gasmedicine && $ajwain>> ✓ [[Health & Essentials Packed|healthsuitcase]] <<else>> ☐ [[Health & Essentials|healthsuitcase]] <</if>> <<if $hotchocolate && $lays && $twix && $puranpoli && $kajukatli && $maggi>> ✓ [[Food & Drinks Packed|foodsuitcase]] <<else>> ☐ [[Food & Drinks|foodsuitcase]] <</if>> <<if $mugs && $tray>> ✓ [[Kitchen Stuff Packed|kitchensuitcase]] <<else>> ☐ [[Kitchen & Utility|kitchensuitcase]] <</if>> <<if $jeans && $lays && $earrings && $medicines && $gasmedicine && $hotchocolate && $mugs && $tray && $scoobydoosweater && $purse && $twix && $puranpoli && $kajukatli && $maggi && $clothes && $ajwain && $blanket>> Awesome! The suitcases are all done. Let's see what else we have to do. [[Check out what's left->StartPacking]] <<if random(1,4) == 1>> [[Want a Snack?->Snack]]<</if>> <<else>> Let's keep packing, packing, packing. Or, we could be chaotic and pack something else. [[Wanna do that?->StartPacking]] <<if random(1,3) == 1>> [[Want a Snack?->Snack]]<</if>> <</if>>

<<if not ($jeans && $lays && $earrings && $medicines && $gasmedicine && $hotchocolate && $mugs && $tray && $scoobydoosweater && $purse && $twix && $puranpoli && $kajukatli && $maggi && $clothes && $ajwain && $blanket && $thermos && $foothammock && $snackpack && $book && $ipad && $extraclothes && $pads && $ticket && $i20 && $passport && $headphones)>><<if visited() == 1>> Okaaaay, awesome. I do appreciate the company. Packing is always such a weird thing, isn’t it? You’re so excited to go, but then you start folding things into a suitcase, and suddenly it hits you that you’re leaving. And then the excitement gets all tangled up in nostalgia and... yeah. Anyway, enough chatter! We can’t afford to procrastinate much: Didi isn’t usually very happy about that, haha. I guess it’s time to pack! What should we start with? <<elseif visited() == 2>> Back already? You’re committed, I respect that. We’re making progress, but there’s still a good bit left. Honestly, I wish we could just throw everything in and be done with it. But nooo, it’s a precise science—what folds best, what goes where, what doesn’t get squished. Let’s just keep going. <<elseif visited() == 3>> Okay, real talk—how is it that no matter how much we pack, there’s always more to pack? Like, seriously. It’s a suitcase, not a bottomless void. But somehow,somehow, things just keep appearing. This has to be the last of it... right? <<elseif visited() == 4>> Alright, at this point, you’re basically Didi’s second-in-command. Which is huge, because she doesn’t just let anyone into the efficiency club. We’re close now—like, I can almost see the end. But not quite. Let’s finish this. <<elseif visited() == 5>> Not gonna lie, I’m kind of hitting a wall. Packing has this way of making time feel all stretchy and weird, like we’ve been at this for ages. But we have to be close, right? Let’s just push through. <<elseif visited() == 6>> Look, I’ll be honest. At this point, I’m questioning everything. Do I really need all of this? Can I survive with just, like, a hoodie and some magic masala lays? Maybe we should just leave it all and start over. No? Fine. Let’s finish this. <<elseif visited() == 7>> Oh my god, we are so close. If I see one more thing that needs to be packed, I might just combust. But we can’t stop now. We’re at the finish line. Let’s get this done. <<else>> Okay. So I thought we were done. But here we are again. At this point, I think I’ve transcended the packing process. Maybe I am the suitcase now. Let’s just get the last bits in. <</if>> <<if $jeans && $lays && $earrings && $medicines && $gasmedicine && $hotchocolate && $mugs && $tray && $scoobydoosweater && $purse && $twix && $puranpoli && $kajukatli && $maggi && $clothes && $ajwain && $blanket>> [[The suitcases are packed!->SuitcaseMenu]] <<else>> [[The Suitcases->SuitcaseMenu]] <</if>> <<if $thermos && $foothammock && $snackpack && $book && $ipad && $extraclothes && $pads>> [[The backpack is packed!->BackpackMenu]] <<else>> [[The Backpack->BackpackMenu]] <</if>> <<if $ticket && $i20 && $passport && $headphones>> [[The Hima Bag is packed!->himabagmenu]] <<else>> [[The Hima Bag->himabagmenu]] <</if>> <<if random(1,4) == 1>> [[Want a Snack?->Snack]]<</if>> <<else>> <<if visited() == 1>> That’s it. Everything’s packed. It should feel done, right? But instead, it just feels... weird. Like, how is it time already? How did everything get folded away so fast? I don’t know what to do with myself now. <<elseif visited() == 2>> It’s packed. It’s all packed. The suitcases are zipped up, the backpack is set, the Hima Bag is ready. And suddenly, there’s nothing left to do but wait. You’d think it would feel good, but it just makes everything feel real. <<elseif visited() == 3>> We’ve gone over everything, right? The suitcases. The backpack. The Hima Bag. There’s nothing left to add. No tiny last-minute item. No extra thing to squeeze in. It’s really happening. <<elseif visited() == 4>> It’s all packed. And yet... I feel like I forgot something. Or maybe I just want to feel like I forgot something. Maybe I just don’t want this moment to end. Because once I zip that last bag, once I say “I’m ready,” I have to actually go. <<elseif visited() == 5>> You know, I always tell myself that once everything is packed, I’ll finally feel ready. But I never do. I never do. <<else>> Well. That’s it. That’s all of it. Thank you for sticking around through all of this. I mean it. <</if>> [[I guess there's nothing left to do now...->FinalScene]] [[We could admire the stuff, though->StuffCheckList]] <</if>>

Hima Bag. In college, I carried a little sling bag everywhere I went. Even to the restroom. I was naked without it. My friends started calling it the Hima bag. It wasn’t just a bag—it was an extension of me. Even now, in airports and transit lounges, this bag is where I keep everything that matters. The things I can’t afford to lose, the ones I need to be within reach at all times. It's also Papa's responsibility, always. He makes sure every single thing is in place, accessible, and neatly stowed away. Of course, the bag changes, but the name stays the same. So, what’s going into the Hima Bag this time? <<if $ticket && $i20 && $passport && $headphones>> ✓ [[Hima Bag Packed|himabag]] <<else>> ☐ [[Pack Hima Bag|himabag]] <</if>> <<if $ticket && $i20 && $passport && $headphones>> The Hima Bag is packed. It’s ready to go, unlike me. [[Check out what’s left->StartPacking]] <<if random(1,4) == 1>> [[Want a Snack?->Snack]]<</if>> <<else>> We’re not done yet. I can probably fit in a few more things. [[What else goes in where?->StartPacking]] <<if random(1,3) == 1>> [[Want a Snack?->Snack]]<</if>> <</if>>

<<set $purse to true>>This is from the World Trade Fair, the first outing Mumma, Papa, Didi and I went to this time. We bought bags and bags of trinkets, they got a carpet, I got a nail clipper. They were looking at some kitchenware when I got distracted by a stall that was a rainbow of mirrors and colors and fabrics. That's where I got this bag, and a lovely denim jacket with colorful patchwork and dangling mirrors. I had to leave the jacket behind...Mumma will courier it soon. [[Back to the suitcase!->apparelsuitcase]]

Packing List: Hima Bag <<if $ticket>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Paper Ticket, 1 ->Ticket]] <<if $i20>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[I-20, 1 document ->I20]] <<if $passport>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Passport, 1 ->Passport]] <<if $headphones>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Headphones, 1 pair ->Headphones]] <<if $ticket && $i20 && $passport && $headphones>> [[The Hima Bag is all done! We can move on to something else now.->StartPacking]] <<else>> [[You know what? Let's go full chaotic and pack something else instead.->StartPacking]] <</if>><<if random(1,4) == 1>>[[Want a Snack?->Snack]]<</if>>

[[Back to Packing->Start]] [[How to Read This]] [[Who I Am]] [[The People]]

I welcome you, my friend, to come help me pack my luggage. Click the links to navigate your way through all the bags, and you can see a little bit of me with each item you pack. Once you have packed an item, or one of the three pieces of luggage, you will see a checkmark in the entry next to it. Pack all my bags to hear all the stories I have to tell, and wait to say goodbye to me at the end. I do recommend reading this on a computer. This is not as suitable for tablets or phones, but should still be functional.

My name is Himadri Agarwal, though I go by Hima. I was born in Kolkata, then moved to Delhi for my undergraduate studies, and am now getting a PhD at the University of Maryland, USA. I did come here alone, and I did find myself in many ways, but everything I do has been orchestrated, managed, held up, and sustained by the people I love: my sister, my father, my mother, and even my little nephew and niece. They are the backbone and the pillar of everything I am. They are not particularly expressive people: they will not write notes or make cards, save the occasional Instagram post. But they will always pack for me, cook for me, even make clothes for me. This is a dedication to their constant, unwavering, and unflinching care, even in the face of every crisis life could throw. As you pack with me in this piece, remember that these are the people this is about. These are the people who make me whatever I have had the privilege to become, and have brought me wherever I have reached.

This project is dedicated to all the people who make my life possible. My mother, my father, my sister, my nephew and niece, my friends, my professors, and more: this is an ode to here, and there, and everywhere in between. Special Thanks to (in no particular order): Suman Agarwal: Mumma, your meticulous care keeps me alive. Sanjay Agarwal: Papa, I don't know where I would be without your daily calls. Siddhi Agarwal: Didi, you are the wind in my wings. Thank you for keeping me afloat. Krishiv: I don't think I knew how far unconditional love could go before I met you. Shivyaa: You, like me, are a drama queen. Stay that way. Professor Sumana Roy: Every word I write is a tribute to you. Professor Arunava Sinha: You are the reason I breathe and dream in all these languages, dimensions, registers. Thank you for showing me how beautiful it is to be in between.

Oh, hello there. I'm Hima. I'm a student in the USA, but I am from Kolkata, India. Yes, an international student. Yes, it's really hard being away from home, but no, I'm not mopey about it all the time. Yes, the flights are very long! It's ridiculously tough, and also ridiculously expensive, and also really, really exhausting, particularly if, like me, economy is the best you can afford. (I always say I'll take a business class flight the day I finish this PhD. We'll see, huh?) Anyway. Thanks so much for coming, on such short notice. I called you here, all the way to Kolkata, because I was hoping you'd help me pack. I mean, not really help, cause there's plenty people doing that, as you'll see. But more just hang out? I can give you little tidbits about the stuff too, so I promise to keep you entertained. And full. That's something we pride ourselves on: feeding our guests well. We'll give you snacks. I know packing so much stuff is a bit exhausting, but we'll get there. Wanna get started? [[Yeah, sure, I guess?->StartPacking]] [[Nope. This was a mistake.->NoPacking]]

Well, suit yourself. I'd love to have you here, but it's just an invitation, no pressure. Feel free to head out, to <a href="https://www.google.com">Google</a> or <a href="https://www.facebook.com">Facebook</a> or whatever other site you'd like to spend time on. But if you've changed your mind, well, it's never too late to [[come along!->StartPacking]]

Packing

[[By Himadri Agarwal->Who I Am]]

<<set $jeans to true>>Two pairs, one blue, one black. And a third, shocking pink. Mumma laughs at those, but they were all too long for me. She had them altered to my 5'. She does laugh at my height (and my weight) sometimes, but it’s okay. She’s the one who bought me these jeans. Without me, can you imagine? She bought jeans when I wasn’t even there, and they fit! Talk about knowing your daughter. [[Back to the suitcase!->apparelsuitcase]]

<<set $lays to true>>Look, if you think you’ve tried chips, and you haven’t tried these, you really have no idea how glorious snacking can be. These things are tangy, spicy, crunchy. It’s a taste most Indian kids remember in their sleep. So ridiculously unhealthy, and so ridiculously delicious. These go at the bottom of the suitcase, getting a little crushed but always the tastier for it. [[Back to the suitcase!->foodsuitcase]]

<<set $earrings to true>> Every year, without fail, I’ll bring too many of these. Bags and bags full. And then they take up too much space, and too much weight, and I’ll regret it. But you know, there’s a joy to flaunting off my novelty earrings with all the strange shapes. Washing machine, Rubik’s cube, once I wore one where one earring was a socket and the other earring was a fork. Here, I get all the compliments, but back home, I get stares, and honestly, I do it anyway. Just testing the waters. Maybe I’ll become palatable to them someday. [[Back to the suitcase!->apparelsuitcase]] <<if random(1,4) == 1>> [[Want a Snack?->Snack]]<</if>>

<<set $medicines to true>>These are under Papa’s purview. And they’re important, because considering the healthcare system here, my best bet is to have whatever I need. So from the day I land in India to the day I take off again, he will ask me every single day: Did you make your list of medicines? I have to buy them too! Did you make the list, Hima? And of course, I’ll never make the list, then he and Mumma will make it for me, and I’ll do nothing but lounge in the chair next to them. The medicines come, and he looks at me and grins, “I hope that’s all money wasted!” [[Back to the suitcase!->healthsuitcase]]

<<set $gasmedicine to true>>These get a special mention. Not because I eat a lot of Indian food (which I do) or because it’s spicy (which it is) but because gas medicine is a way of life. This is the one area of science where we are closely following each advancement. We are trying and testing every development. We are connoisseurs. [[Back to the suitcase!->healthsuitcase]] [[Want a Snack?->Snack]]

<<set $hotchocolate to true>>Yes, I know there’s better hot chocolate in the US. But I don’t drink tea or coffee, so my sister ordered a bunch of hot chocolate from a brand she saw on Shark Tank, just so I have something for home. It was delicious. And I know that I may have access to Hershey’s or Ghirardelli or the most premium brands, but when the window fogs over and it’s a blanket of white outside, this one feels just a little more comforting. [[Back to the suitcase!->foodsuitcase]]

<<set $mugs to true>> Another gift from my ever-generous sister. She wraps them in newspaper, taping them tight and sandwiching them between the clothes. They have the iconic yellow taxi on them, the Vidyasagar Setu, the tram track. They’re red and yellow and green and blue and black and white. There’s two of them, of course. One for N, one for me. I've told Mom about N, and Papa sort of knows. It's unsaid. I'll wait a little. These things are a big deal, you know, what with dating being still so rare. Plus I have my own commitment issues. But I think we'll figure it out. I'm rooting for us. [[Back to the suitcase!->kitchensuitcase]] <<if random(1,4) == 1>> [[Want a Snack?->Snack]]<</if>>

<<set $scoobydoosweater to true>>Okay, so don’t judge me on this one. It’s half green and half brown; one sleeve is green with crocheted red flowers on them, and the other has eyes and ears and is a little woollen dog. It’s strange as heck. When I wore it and went over to Ankit Bhaiya’s, he laughed for a good while. The man is 14 years older than me, but you’d never tell. He pulls my leg endlessly. We always hung out together as kids, even when his parents and mine were having their issues. He makes me the best food every time I go over, then claims to be on diet, then proceeds to eat most of it anyway. [[Back to the suitcase!->apparelsuitcase]]

<<set $puranpoli to true>>A full hundred and fifty, wrapped niftily in aluminum foil, secure to the point of overkill. They’re just delicious, and soft, and they’re what I have been carrying every time I travel, from undergrad in Delhi all the way to PhD in Maryland. [[Back to the suitcase!->foodsuitcase]] <<if random(1,6) == 1>> [[Want a Snack?->Snack]]<</if>>

<<set $kajukatli to true>>There is always some chaos in the house before I leave because we can never quite fit everything. I throw a tantrum, we argue, then I say I don’t want anything. Last time, they secretly snuck a box of kaju katli into my bag, tipping it right at excess baggage. I had to plead to the woman at the counter. [[Back to the suitcase!->foodsuitcase]] <<if random(1,4) == 1>> [[Want a Snack?->Snack]]<</if>>

<<set $maggi to true>>Six packets. Sometimes twelve. Once, this was the most coveted tiffin box. It would be all, like, caked into your box at school, and completely solid, and honestly quite gross if you think about it carefully, but back then it felt like the best food on the planet. Now, it's only a poor two-minute substitute for mealtime, but the Hindi text on the packet makes it palatable, more so than any Buldaks I could find here. Plus, if you add some cheese, an egg, maybe some veggies, it’ll beat your fanciest ramen. [[Back to the suitcase!->foodsuitcase]] <<if random(1,3) == 1>>[[Want a Snack?->Snack]]<</if>>

<<set $ajwain to true>>Two bags full. Remember I said we’re gas medicine connoisseurs? So far, science hasn’t caught up to what this can do. Mumma gave it to me in a Ziploc bag, with maximum ease of use and even a plastic spoon tucked in. [[Back to the suitcase!->healthsuitcase]]

<<set $blanket to true>>It’s pink and furry. Touch it, it's ridiculosuly soft. Every time my breaths get caught in my chest, you know, or I get shivers that are not from the cold, this blanket feels warm in more ways than one. My therapist tells me to find comfort objects, and this may be mine, but then, like, how do you distill the smells of familiarity and joy and laughter, and even the pain and the confusion, and companionship and support and assurances, all in one object? All in one suitcase? Or two? [[Back to the suitcase!->apparelsuitcase]]

Packing List : Clothes & Accessories <<if $clothes>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Shirts & Jackets, 10-11 total ->Clothes]] <<if $jeans>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Jeans, 3 pairs (Blue, Black, Shocking Pink) ->Jeans]] <<if $scoobydoosweater>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Scooby Doo Sweater, embroidered ->ScoobyDooSweater]] <<if $blanket>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Pink Furry Blanket, an essential ->Blanket]] <<if $earrings>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Earrings & Headbands, assorted ->Earrings]] <<if $purse>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Mirrorwork Purse, with tassels ->Purse]] [[What else for the suitcase?->SuitcaseMenu]] [[Let's go full chaotic and switch to a different piece of luggage altogether.->StartPacking]]

Health Essentials <<if $medicines>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Essential Medicines, full stock ->Medicines]] <<if $gasmedicine>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Gas Medicine, latest formula ->GasMedicine]] <<if $ajwain>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Ajwain/Namak, 2 bags ->Ajwain]] [[What else for the suitcase?->SuitcaseMenu]] [[Let's go full chaotic and switch to a different piece of luggage altogether.->StartPacking]]

Food & Drinks <<if $hotchocolate>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Hot Chocolate, home brand ->HotChocolate]] <<if $lays>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Masala Magic Lays, 2 large packs ->Lays]] <<if $twix>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Twix Minis, 1 pack ->Twix]] <<if $puranpoli>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Puran Poli, 150 pieces ->PuranPoli]] <<if $kajukatli>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Kaju Katli, 1 box ->KajuKatli]] <<if $maggi>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Maggi, 6 packs ->Maggi]] [[What else for the suitcase?->SuitcaseMenu]] [[Let's go full chaotic and switch to a different piece of luggage altogether.->StartPacking]] [[Want a Snack?->Snack]]

Kitchen & Utility <<if $mugs>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Kolkata Mugs, set of 2 ->Mugs]] <<if $tray>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Matching Tray, bubble-wrapped ->Tray]] [[What else for the suitcase?->SuitcaseMenu]] [[Let's go full chaotic and switch to a different piece of luggage altogether.->StartPacking]]

<<set $clothes to true>>Maybe ten? Eleven? I love dressing up, but I don’t always know how to take care of my clothes. But I always have more when I return than when I start: my mother is a fashion designer, and she ensures I have a few wearable explosions of color ready to cheer me up every time I miss her. Broadly, though, clothes are the only thing in two suitcases that I actually bring from the US and take back with me. But somehow, even they are different now. Everything is different once it knows what it is like to be home. [[Back to the suitcase!->apparelsuitcase]]

Ah, the backpack. Unlike the suitcases, which hold everything I might need for months, the backpack is for the things I need **right now**. The essentials, the comforts, the little things that make long-haul flights and layovers bearable. It’s the one bag that stays with me the entire way, crammed under airplane seats and stuffed into overhead bins, but always within reach. Of course, packing it is another story. It starts with a few basics—then suddenly, I’m trying to justify squeezing in an extra book, a last-minute snack, or a notebook I swear I’ll write in but probably won’t. The balance is delicate: just enough to feel prepared, but not so much that my shoulders regret it later. So, let's look in the backpack? <<if $thermos && $foothammock && $snackpack && $book && $ipad && $extraclothes && $pads>> ✓ [[Backpack Packed|backpack]] <<else>> ☐ [[Pack Backpack (haha!)|backpack]] <</if>> <<if $thermos && $foothammock && $snackpack && $book && $ipad && $extraclothes && $pads>> Awesome! The backpack is good to go. Just one more step closer to being fully packed. [[Check out what's left->StartPacking]] <<if random(1,4) == 1>> [[Want a Snack?->Snack]]<</if>> <<else>> Let’s keep packing. There’s always something else that might fit in. [[What else needs to go in?->StartPacking]] <<if random(1,3) == 1>> [[Want a Snack?->Snack]]<</if>> <</if>>

<<set $twix to true>>Whenever I make a trip back, without fail, I buy the kids some goodies. Remote control cars, small LEGO sets, clothes. This time it was a coding robot, another robotics kit, some hairclips for Shivyaa, a few tees for Krishiv.DIdi was saying, since he knows I'm leaving soon, Krishiv scoured the house for chocolate. Just look at him. He didn’t find much, but this packet of Twix minis was not only procured but is apparently also being diligently packed into my suitcase, with his little six-year-old hands. [[Back to the suitcase!->foodsuitcase]]

<<set $tray to true>>The cups have a matching tray. Same design. Bold of her to think I’ve ever even used a tray. I mostly just... dump stuff. But they looked very pretty when she gifted them to me, all decorated and wrapped. Look, she's even packed it that way: sparkling in bubble wrap, with some stray bottles of Hajmola and a couple of spices strapped onto it as well. Fancy. [[Back to the suitcase!->kitchensuitcase]]

Packing List: Backpack <<if $thermos>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Thermos, 1 large, insulated ->Thermos]] <<if $foothammock>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Foot Hammock, compact travel size ->FootHammock]] <<if $snackpack>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Snack Pack, assorted single-portion treats ->SnackPack]] <<if $book>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Book: 1, paperback->Book]] <<if $ipad>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[iPad, with case and charger ->iPad]] <<if $extraclothes>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Extra Set of Clothes, full outfit ->ExtraClothes]] <<if $pads>>✓<<else>> ☐<</if>> [[Pads, travel pack ->Pads]] <<if $thermos && $foothammock && $snackpack && $book && $ipad && $extraclothes && $pads>> [[The backpack is all done! We can move on to something else now.->StartPacking]] <<if random(1,4) == 1>> [[Want a Snack?->Snack]]<</if>> <<else>> [[You know what? Let's go full chaotic and pack something else instead.->StartPacking]] <<if random(1,4) == 1>> [[Want a Snack?->Snack]]<</if>> <</if>>

<<set $thermos to true>>At home, it can be glass after glass of hot water. There, a thermos saves trips. Being able to sit in one place becomes so rare, you're always running about. Mumma came with me to buy this: honestly, when you don’t have a car, in-person shopping is such a luxury. We bought the thermos, ate pav bhaji, had a kulfi after. We always make this outing: it’s a great time. [[Back to the backpack!->backpack]]

<<set $foothammock to true>>Flights have always been scary. When you have no contact whatsoever with the outside world, and no idea where you are or what time it is. I used to have panic attacks and be scared of turbulence, but honestly, what’s 16 hours of inbetweenness for someone like me? [[Back to the backpack!->backpack]]

<<set $snackpack to true>>This is my patented in-flight luxury. A large Ziploc bag with tiny Ziploc bags, each with a single yummy snack. Green Uncle Chipps. Blue Masala Magic Lays. Gur sandesh. Puran poli. Chanachur. Milk Bikis. Murukku. Barfi. Hajmola. Saunf. And more. There is always a balance: sweet, savory, even umami and mouth fresheners. Every time, the passenger next to me looks lustily at my snack pack. I’m always willing to share too, but we don’t always ask for the things we want, do we? [[Back to the backpack!->backpack]]

<<set $book to true>>Just something I hope to read on the plane. I never do. I usually just watch shows and fall asleep and watch shows and fall asleep; it’s a lot of yawning and snacking for me. [[Back to the backpack!->backpack]]

<<set $ipad to true>>I bought this myself. With my dollars. I bought myself a cover and a charger and a pair of earphones, and my father never fails to remind me how proud he is. *Beti ne khud se iPad khareeda hai.* I don’t use it as much as I should, but I will treasure it. My first big purchase. [[Back to the backpack!->backpack]]

<<set $extraclothes to true>>One time, Papa missed a connection and had to spend a night in a hotel. He says he was saved because Mumma packed him a set of clothes, even though he insisted he didn’t need them. We never leave without these now. [[Back to the backpack!->backpack]]

<<set $pads to true>>Periods and pimples always come, particularly when you don’t invite them along. [[Back to the backpack!->backpack]]

<<set $ticket to true>>A paper ticket, always. I know I don’t need it, but Papa will make me. And I have to admit it, it’s rather convenient. I often lament the fading away of paper. [[Back to the Hima Bag!->himabag]]

<<set $i20 to true>>This is the document that certifies my belonging. The piece of paper that attests to my deserving and my status as legal, because apparently humans can be illegal too. [[Back to the Hima Bag!->himabag]] <<if random(1,4) == 1>> [[Want a Snack?->Snack]]<</if>>

<<set $passport to true>>Look at that, you know, those big gold letters, India emblazoned on the cover, I always feel rather possessive of my passport. It’s reassuring, you know. Knowing there’s a place that claims me and calls me its own. There are others who don’t have that. I think about that a lot. [[Back to the Hima Bag!->himabag]] <<if random(1,5) == 1>> [[Want a Snack?->Snack]]<</if>>

<<set $headphones to true>>The headphones go on before the seatbelt sign dims. These aren’t all that expensive, but they’re the most powerful headphones I’ve seen. I wear these nonstop on all my 24-hour journeys, and the battery only goes from 100% to 90%. One time, the ear cushion came off, and Papa superglued it back. See, you can see it there, on the cuffs. But it's not that prominent. He guaranteed me it would never come off. It hasn’t, in three years now. I don’t think it ever will. [[Back to the Hima Bag!->himabag]]

The plane lands. <<timed 6s "arrival">>The suitcases — teal and green — are unpacked. The Masala Magic Lays are slightly crushed but still whole, stacked beneath jeans and shirts. The spices sit neatly on the kitchen shelf. My throat still has the scratch of plane air. <</timed>> <<timed 14s "first call">> Papa calls. "Did you drink warm water from your thermos? You know it's good for you after the cold plane." I lie and say yes. I haven’t even taken it out of my backpack yet. <</timed>> <<timed 24s "first week">> The foot hammock is still strapped to my desk chair, a tiny reminder of those 16 hours of in-between. I don’t take it off. I like the feeling of my feet hanging midair, as if I’m still suspended between two places. <</timed>> <<timed 34s "small things">> The kaju katli, wrapped in foil, sat in my bag for days. I planned to eat one a day. Instead, I eat five in one sitting while watching a show I don’t care about. The last one, I save. <</timed>> <<timed 44s "earrings">> Every morning, I dig through my earrings. I pair my rubik’s cube earrings with my black jeans, my washing machine earrings with the Scooby Doo sweater. One day, I wear my fork and socket earrings to class. A student asks, "Wait, do they actually fit into each other?" I grin. <</timed>> <<timed 54s "medicines">> "You have the medicines, Hima?" Papa asks. They sit in my drawer. I use them. I don’t tell him. "I hope that’s money wasted," he jokes again. I laugh like I agree. <</timed>> <<timed 60s "maggi">> A Maggi packet sits at the back of the pantry. A lazy day meal. I boil water, break the noodles in half, stir in the masala. It tastes almost like home, but I still add cheese. Just because I can. <</timed>> <<timed 68s "semester starts">> The first class is a blur. I clutch my iPad, tap the screen like I have a plan. I do, somewhere. I forget. I improvise. <</timed>> <<timed 74s "teaching">> My Hima Bag is full of crumpled receipts, a half-eaten granola bar, and a pen that doesn’t work. One day, I find my ticket stub inside. I smooth it out, place it back, and keep carrying it. <</timed>> <<timed 81s "routines">> Papa calls. "Bas aise hi." Just checking in. "And don’t forget, gas medicine is in your bag. You don’t want to test your luck." I tell him I won’t. I definitely will. <</timed>> <<timed 89s "candles">> It snows, so we light a candle in the kitchen. The flame flickers on my yellow taxi mug. I sip my hot chocolate, letting the scent settle into the room. <</timed>> <<timed 98s "midstay">> Days blur into weeks. Neelesh waits for me to get ready. I am late. Again. I yank my Scooby Doo sweater over my head as I rush out. "That thing is hideous," he says. "You love it," I reply. <</timed>> <<timed 106s "lays">> The Masala Magic Lays are down to their last packet. I eat them slowly, one chip at a time, licking the masala off my fingers before taking the next bite. I think about saving the last handful. I don’t. The empty packet sits on my desk for days before I finally throw it away. <</timed>> <<timed 114s "twix">> Krishiv packed a Twix in my bag before I left. I find it on a random Tuesday, when I’m running late, digging through my mirrorwork purse for my keys. I eat it standing by the door, backpack half open, chewing too fast. That was the last one. <</timed>> <<timed 124s "mid-semester">> The cold lingers longer than I expect. The semester moves fast—papers pile up, drafts get pushed aside. I am already behind. I tell myself I will catch up over spring break. I won’t. <</timed>> <<timed 132s "tray">> The tray sits on my counter, buried under notebooks, a stray spoon, and a folded sweater. One evening, I use it properly. Lay out a full meal. Rice, dal, achaar. I send a picture to Mumma. "You used a tray?" she texts back. "Who are you?" <</timed>> <<timed 142s "finals week">> The library is more crowded now. My yellow taxi mug follows me from room to room. The last of my kaju katli is gone, my hot chocolate is nearly finished. The pile of laundry grows, but I don’t touch it. <</timed>> <<timed 152s "early signs">> I do not fumble before entering a car anymore: I know which the correct side is. I ran out of puran polis weeks ago. My yellow taxi mug is in the sink more often than in the cupboard. <</timed>> <<timed 160s "slipping away">> The suitcase is still under my bed. I haven’t thought about it in weeks. Then one day, I find a kaju katli wrapper inside my backpack. I run my thumb over the foil, then toss it into the trash. <</timed>> <<timed 168s "first list">> Papa calls. "When are you starting your packing list?" I tell him I have time. I don’t. <</timed>> <<timed 176s "sorting">> The earrings go back into their little pouches. I fold my clothes, setting aside what stays and what goes. <</timed>> <<timed 185s "final exams">> Exams are here. I wake up to messages from Mumma. "Did you sleep?" Papa calls just to ask if I ate. My mirrorwork purse has too many pens, none of them working. My tray is buried under printouts I should have read weeks ago. <</timed>> <<timed 198s "predeparture">> Packing Again: USA to India The suitcases come out from under the bed. I check their weight with my foot, even though I know that tells me nothing. <</timed>> <<timed 210s "one last sip">> I pour myself one last hot chocolate in the yellow taxi mug. I drink it slowly, as if stretching time will change it. It won’t. <</timed>> <<timed 224s "the last few things">> I do look around for any remaining snacks, but the last handful of Masala Magic Lays is long gone. So is the Twix.. <</timed>> <<timed 240s "ready">> [[Ready.->RepackingMenu]] Time to go again. Just as I was beginning to feel settled. <</timed>>

Okay, okay, don't worry. I'm not going to make you pack everything again. I know how to do it, plus this time, I've got Neelesh to hang with. It's just...when I was making my list, I was thinking...when I go from the USA, I take so many things that I...didn't necessarily want to take, you know what I mean? There's all these things that I have, and acquire, and become, it's almost...unrecognisable at this point. It's the whole Ship of Theseus concept: are you still who you are if parts of you keep getting ripped out and replaced and keep growing and shrinking and just changing? And you know, like this suitcase which is always bursting at the seams, it feels like I'm just constantly spilling over, like, there's the Kolkata me, the USA me, the Plane me, and all of these me-s that I just carry around wherever I go, right? So if there was like, an emotional baggage check in counter, I feel like I would always be overweight, just because there's just so many selves I'm walking around with. This is getting a bit meta, I guess, but I made a packing list...a packing list of the selves I carry, of all the new feelings, perspectives, confusions...just distilled into tiny things, sounds, smells, feelings. And I just wanted you to take a look. If not, that's totally fine, it's just something I've been thinking about. It's just a little add-along. You can [[take a look->Repacking List]] or just [[skip it->End]] if you prefer.

<<set $snackCount to 0>>

Packing List for What Packs Itself ✓ <<linkreplace "A passport that doesn’t expire as fast as my sense of belonging">>Stamped, scanned, flipped open at every checkpoint. I hold onto it tightly, as if the wrong grip might make it slip away. As if proving I belong somewhere is as easy as showing the right papers.<</linkreplace>> ✓ <<linkreplace "A timezone math equation I will never get right on the first try">>"Okay, so if it’s 10 AM here, it’s...wait, no, is it—oh wait, daylight savings." Every time. I try, I really do. But somewhere between EST, IST, and the cursed limbo of layovers, I just give up and ask Google.<</linkreplace>> ✓ <<linkreplace "The way I always look for the shortest immigration line, even though they all move at the same speed">>It’s not about saving time. It’s about control. It’s about pretending I have a say in how long it takes to arrive.<</linkreplace>> ✓ <<linkreplace "The ability to fall asleep on flights but never at the right time">>Two hours in, I am out like a light. Twelve hours in, I am wide awake, staring at the seatback screen, watching a movie I don’t even care about. The jetlag starts before I land.<</linkreplace>> ✓ <<linkreplace "The unshakable urge to check baggage weight, even when it’s under limit">>It doesn’t matter that I weighed it twice at home. Or that I can lift it easily. The second I see the airport scale, I hold my breath. Just in case.<</linkreplace>> ✓ <<linkreplace "A renewed appreciation for home food, complete with a magnified spice tolerance">>I go from "this is too much" to "this is bland" in record time. I drown my dal in extra mirch just to prove a point. To myself, mostly.<</linkreplace>> ✓ <<linkreplace "The skill of politely refusing chai, honed over years of practice">>"Aree, ek sip toh le lo." I smile, shake my head, say "Nahi, nahi, I don’t drink chai." They look at me like I just said I don’t breathe air.<</linkreplace>> ✓ <<linkreplace "An irrational attachment to Twix, because a six-year-old thought I needed it">>You know, I don't even like Twix. It's sticky. But god, I love it more than any other chocolate now. I remember when I ate it...I was wondering if Krishiv thought I’d forget him without it.<</linkreplace>> ✓ <<linkreplace "The ability to walk at an American pace, impatient in a Kolkata crowd">>I weave through people, sidestep autos, mutter "excuse me" out of habit. But in Gariahat, in Esplanade, in New Market, speed doesn’t matter. I slow down. Let myself match the rhythm.<</linkreplace>> ✓ <<linkreplace "The realization that no matter how far I go, I always have to explain where I’m from">>"Where’s that?" "Oh, near Delhi?" "Is that the place with the sweets?" I nod. It’s easier than correcting them.<</linkreplace>> ✓ <<linkreplace "The quiet adjustment of my volume, my tone, my words, depending on where I am">>Too loud in the US, too quiet in India. Too formal in one place, too casual in another. I tune myself, like a radio, to the right frequency.<</linkreplace>> ✓ <<linkreplace "The invisible shift in posture when I say 'I live in the US' instead of 'I’m from India'">>A slight hesitation, a slight shift, a slight uncertainty. One sounds like a fact. The other sounds like a choice.<</linkreplace>> ✓ <<linkreplace "An accent that shifts just enough, but never quite settles">>"Are you from India?" "Oh, you don’t have an accent." "Wait, sometimes you do." "Wait, where are you from again?"<</linkreplace>> ✓ <<linkreplace "The instinct to answer calls from Papa with 'Haan, kha liya' before he even asks">>Sometimes I say it even when I haven’t. It saves time. It saves worry. It lets us move on to the other checkboxes: Did I sleep? Am I drinking warm water? Is my gas medicine in my bag?<</linkreplace>> ✓ <<linkreplace "A quiet, creeping awareness that my parents get older every time I see them">>A few more grey hairs, a little more hesitation before standing up, a moment where they ask, "Remind me, how do I send this?" as if tech was never their thing. I notice. I pretend I don’t.<</linkreplace>> ✓ <<linkreplace "The moment I stop feeling like a visitor, just before it’s time to leave again">>It happens too late. Just when I’ve found my rhythm, when I stop checking Google Maps, when I recognize the turns without thinking. That’s when I have to go.<</linkreplace>> ✓ <<linkreplace "The quiet grief of packing again, of folding a life into a suitcase, knowing it won’t be the same when I unpack it">>I try to pack carefully. I try to remember where everything goes. But when I open my suitcase again, it always looks different. I always feel different.<</linkreplace>> ✓ <<linkreplace "The belief that maybe, one day, I won’t feel like I’m always leaving somewhere">>Maybe, one day, I’ll unpack without thinking about when I have to pack again.<</linkreplace>> [[There are more of these: maybe I'll make a longer list someday. For now, it's time to get going. It's time for another journey-->End]]

Well, this is it. Thanks for making the journey with me. It’s time for me to go again—like it always is, I guess. Another flight, another round of packing and unpacking, another version of myself settling into a space that is both familiar and distant at the same time. I appreciate you coming along for the ride—I really do. It gets so lonely otherwise. Airports are quieter than they should be, and waiting gates stretch time in ways that don’t feel natural. The whole process is a strange, liminal space where I am never quite here, never quite there. Just…in between. I hope I kept you entertained. I hope, for a little while, this journey felt like more than just logistics and goodbyes. Maybe you saw a little bit of yourself in it. Maybe you just enjoyed the ride. Either way, I’m glad you were here. And now, I guess, it’s time. To zip up the bags, check my pockets one last time, and step forward. Like I always do. Like I always will. The End.

<<if $jeans && $lays && $earrings && $medicines && $gasmedicine && $hotchocolate && $mugs && $tray && $scoobydoosweater && $purse && $twix && $puranpoli && $kajukatli && $maggi && $clothes && $ajwain && $blanket>> [[The suitcases are packed!->SuitcaseMenu]] <<else>> [[The Suitcases->SuitcaseMenu]] <</if>> <<if $thermos && $foothammock && $snackpack && $book && $ipad && $extraclothes && $pads>> [[The backpack is packed!->BackpackMenu]] <<else>> [[The Backpack->BackpackMenu]] <</if>> <<if $ticket && $i20 && $passport && $headphones>> [[The Hima Bag is packed!->himabagmenu]] <<else>> [[The Hima Bag->himabagmenu]] <</if>> [[Okay, let's get on with it now?->StartPacking]] [[Want a Snack?->Snack]]

<<set $snackCount to $snackCount + 1>><<if $snackCount == 1>>Here's some gur ka sandesh, it's a Kolkata specialty. A winter delicacy, made with nolen gur, soft and perfectly sweet. The kind of thing you have to eat slowly, let it melt on your tongue. <<elseif $snackCount == 2>>Mumma is from Nepal, they use a lot of Wai Wai there. Not just as noodles, but crushed up, in chaat, mixed with oil, green chillies, onions. Hence the Wai Wai Chaat. You can eat it cooked too, if you like. Just perfect. <<elseif $snackCount == 3>>Papa LOVES samosas. He will always buy extra, but not to share—just so there’s more for later. He has a whole ritual: break it open, mix the aloo filling around, add extra chutney. A science. An art. <<elseif $snackCount == 4>>This kachori sabzi is from Kanhaiya, and fun fact, the people at Kanhaiya are actually my Bhabhi's relatives, so at our house, we say KanhaiyaJI. With respect. As it should be. <<elseif $snackCount == 5>>Yeah, look, I know this gatta is more a meal than a snack, like it's these besan pieces in this dahi gravy, and it comes with rice, but go on. Have some. It's a Rajasthani specialty. <<elseif $snackCount == 6>>Crushed papad, tossed with onions, chillies, mustard oil. Spicy, crispy, somehow always made better when it’s stolen from someone else’s plate. And EVEN better as a midnight snack. <<elseif $snackCount == 7>>Best chaat in Kolkata, honestly. It's from Flavours, this place near Hindustan Club. And their chutney, GOD their chutney. Their muri and bhel and batata are all just UNFORGETTABLE. Honestly, when I was moving to the US, I unironically wondered if moving away was worth going without Flavours ka chaat. <<elseif $snackCount == 8>>Look. Don't let anyone tell you golgappas or panipuris are better, this puchka is the real deal. The imli water hits different, the aloo filling has just the right spice, and if you want a kick, ask for extra hari mirchi. I've put some in for you. <<elseif $snackCount == 9>>This is chanachur, but calling it a "mixture" doesn’t quite capture it. It’s salty, spicy, crunchy, and the true test of patience—because the packet never opens cleanly. You will spill some. That’s part of the experience. <<elseif $snackCount == 10>>Maggi is a lie. "Two-minute noodles"? Please. Maggi takes at least five minutes, seven if you’re making it properly, and ten if you’re in a hostel and adding cheese, veggies, and an existential crisis. <<elseif $snackCount == 11>>Thick dahi, crispy mota bhujiya, and sugar. I know, I know, it sounds weird, but trust me on this. The sweet, the creamy, the crunch—it just works. <<elseif $snackCount == 12>>Okay, so this is Victoria toast, named so because it's available near the Victoria Memorial. Or used to be, now it's everywhere. Usually it has potatoes on it, but I don't like potatoes, so this is my family's version. <<elseif $snackCount == 13>>The baked beans are Flurys-inspired, obviously. Soft, slow-cooked, tomato-ey, and little hints of jhaal. That's spicy in Bengali. <<elseif $snackCount == 14>>This is masala shikanji, and if you think it’s just lemonade, you’re mistaken. This is spiced lemonade, with kala namak, jeera, and just enough black pepper to make you pause after every sip. <<elseif $snackCount == 15>>Yellow finni looks deceptively simple—just a light, airy sweet. But the moment it touches your tongue, you realize it’s absurdly rich. Also, it melts too fast, so you have to eat it quickly. Or just take another. <<elseif $snackCount == 16>>Papri chaat, the way Mom makes it. Her special mystery mixed masala, papri that’s just the right balance of crispy and soft, and a waterfall of imli and hari chutney. This is a science. No two plates taste the same. <<elseif $snackCount == 17>>Bread, sauce, and bhujia. The combination of my dreams. White bread, a little ketchup, and bhujia piled on top until it barely stays in place. Crunchy, messy, absolutely perfect. <<elseif $snackCount == 18>>Papa’s lassi is different. Thick, ice-cold, with a hint of kesar. He makes it his way, with precision. He will beat it for ages and you better drink it fast before he says "Lassi accha na laga beta?" like a challenge. <<elseif $snackCount == 19>>Peda. Our fridge always has pedas. Always. If you show up after someone’s back from a trip? The odds increase to 100%. <<elseif $snackCount == 20>>Nimki chaat. Crunchy, salty nimkis with, dahi, chutneys, and masala. No two people make it the same way, but everyone swears their version is the best. And Mom's is the best. <<elseif $snackCount == 21>>A chocolate boat from Cakes and Kookie Jar. You really don’t get this outside of Kolkata. There’s cake everywhere, sure, but not like this. This sweet slightly crunchy tart base, and the beautiful thick chocolate. This is pure nostalgia. I used to eat these with my ex, Aditya. It's a really romantic dessert, and honestly, I kinda miss him sometimes. <<elseif $snackCount == 22>>Bhujiya and chai. I don’t even drink chai, but this combination? I get it. Chai is not about chai. It’s about sitting down, slowing down, staying for just a little longer. <<elseif $snackCount == 23>>Chakri is a dangerous snack. One bite, then five, then suddenly, the whole box is gone. Crispy, coiled, and impossible to stop eating. <<elseif $snackCount == 24>>Poha with bhujia, the way my sister eats it—with chai. I don’t get it, but she swears it’s the perfect combination. <<elseif $snackCount == 25>>Suhaali and petha—both made by Maharajji. One crispy, salty, perfect with achaar. The other soft, sweet, and melts in your mouth in a way science can’t explain. <<else>>I'm out of ideas, I think, and Mom's out. Maybe we could focus on packing for now, although she will murder me if she finds out I didn't offer you anything.<</if>> [[Back to packing!->previous()]]