The magic box

 Back in the day when we travelled by train, a trunk would accompany us. Made of aluminium (I think), it was a strong fellow. It had fancy zippers or compartments. It was a simple box with two locks that had to be secured by locks. But in those of travel, the trunk was a worthy accessory. Plastic moulded luggage had not yet arrived, backpacks were still not invented - as compared to the cloth bundles and sacks, the trunk was as hep as it got in second class railway travel. 

There were two such trunks. One was an original orange colour trunk that my father had got when he first travelled from Kerala to Mumbai. The second was one he had purchased. I have always remembered it was green in colour (though there was a point in time when both were grey) because each time we painted the grills the two trunks would get a fresh coat of paint. 

The trunk served us loyally through many of journeys. The advantage of the trunk (take that you moulded softies) was that children could sit on it - between the two seats of a train or while waiting for any part of the journey - well, a child could sleep on it. It would double up as a low table to eat or play cards. Sure, it did not have moulded handles and clickable locks, but the thing was as durable as a battle tank. 

Each summer, the trunk would travel with us and go back to its resting place in the attic. As moulded luggage took over and we had to keep up with the neighbouring Ranganathans and Radhakrishnans, the trunk took on a new role. All our comic books went into the trunk and was safely stashed away with napthalene balls in the attic. 

The beginning of our summer vacation was heralded by the ceremony of bringing the trunk down. A stool would be moved near the attic. One of us would climb up and pass the trunk slowly to the other. It required the help of parents, but the trunk would be down a day or two before the last exam of the year was over (why waste precious moments, right?). 

And over the years, the coming down of the trunk was our vacations. Filled with comic books (mostly) and a few other things, the trunk came down during every vacation. Trunk is down - vacation. Trunk is up - school time. The trunk was indeed the magic box. It was not like we bought so many comic books, but we read, re-read and re-re-read the same books every vacation over coffee, snacks and whatever. Friends came home and read the same books. The sense of wonder when we opened the trunk has always remained with us - and perhaps it is that wonder that we awaited our summer (and Diwali vacations).

Over the years we we grew up summer vacations changed into other activities. The trunk got a couple more fresh coats of paint and is presently in a shade of light green while the older trunk is a darker shade. While the moulded luggage has been given away, the trunk is still there with our comic books (some of them, we gave away a bunch).

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