The morning was busy at Rajsons Stationery World. Sunlight streamed in through the wide glass doors, making the shelves gleam like treasure chests. We bags stood proudly in our row, backs straight, straps fluffed, pretending not to notice customers, but secretly hoping to be chosen.
Then they walked in.
The first thing I saw was hair- perfectly combed, glossy, with a precise side part that looked like it had been drawn with a ruler. Below it was a boy, maybe ten, wearing a white T-shirt with a golden emblem across the chest and sneakers so spotless they looked afraid of dirt. He walked with the slow confidence of someone who had never been told “no.”
Floating behind him was his mother — tall, graceful, wrapped in a silk scarf that shimmered in the light. Her sunglasses were enormous, round and reflected the store like two tiny crystal balls. In one manicured hand, she carried a handbag with more zippers than the entire shelf I stood on.
“Good morning, Mrs. Kapoor,” Mr. Sharma said, moustache twitching into its most polished smile. “Looking for something for Kabir?”
Kabir ignored the question, his gaze already sweeping over our section. His eyes landed on me, my perfect navy blue panels, my sturdy stitching, my shiny silver zip that caught the light like a shooting star.
“This one,” he said simply.
The words were magic. My strap seams tingled. Rosie gave a tiny gasp. “Zippy! You’re going!” she whispered. I tried to look dignified, but my insides were doing somersaults.
Raju, the shop helper, stepped forward, his brown apron smudged with pencil marks and glitter. He lifted me gently from the shelf. “Good choice, sir,” he said. “This bag will last for years.”
That’s when it happened, Kabir took me from Raju’s hands and hugged me. Properly hugged me. His arms went right around me and I could feel the quick thump of his heart. “This is perfect,” he told his mother, grinning wide enough to show the small gap in his front teeth. I felt like the world’s luckiest bag.
The ride home was my first taste of luxury, the car seats smelled of leather, the air conditioning hummed softly and a faint lemon scent floated in the air. Kabir sat with me on his lap the whole way, running his fingers along my zippers and gently opening and closing them, like he was making sure I could sing in tune.
But then… the packing began.
At first, I thought he’d place neatly stacked books and maybe a shiny lunchbox inside me. Oh no. First came a half-deflated football. Then muddy shin guards. Then a crumpled homework sheet. Then — horror of horrors — a water bottle with the cap slightly loose. My crisp lining shuddered under the damp weight. And somewhere near my front pocket, I felt something small, hard and suspiciously like a pebble.
When we reached their home — a sprawling house with marble floors that glistened like ice — I thought, Well, at least I’ll have my own hook in a tidy room.
I was wrong. Kabir’s room looked like a hurricane had signed a lease there. Clothes slumped in heaps, game controllers sprawled across the floor and somewhere under the bed was a faint smell of… well, I decided not to investigate.
I suddenly felt overwhelmed. This was not the neat, orderly life I had imagined. If the room was this chaotic, what would my life be like here?
The days that followed weren’t bad exactly — Kabir still seemed fond of me, but his way of showing it was… unconventional. He dragged me across playground dirt, zipped me halfway so my insides bulged awkwardly and left me in the sun until my colors warmed uncomfortably. Once, he used me as a goalpost. Another time, a seat cushion.
One evening, a crumb tumbled into my front pocket.
“Cheer up,” said a muffled voice. It was Dino, the holographic dinosaur pencil case stuffed in my main compartment. “At least you’re out in the world. I’ve been stuck in here for days without sunlight.”
I chuckled despite myself. Maybe being ‘premium’ didn’t mean perfection. Maybe it meant surviving juice spills and cookie crumbs while still holding your zips high.
But at night, when the room was quiet, I thought of Rosie, Tuffy and Doodle back at the shop. I hoped they were being treated well. I missed them more than I cared to admit.