The Just in Case Syndrome: A Humorous Guide to Overpacking.

Ah, the art of packing: a delicate dance between preparation and paranoia, where the “just in case” syndrome reigns supreme. Let me regale you with tales of those who have fallen victim to its whimsical grasp.

Picture this: you’re headed abroad, armed with limited space and weight restrictions, yet your suitcase bulges with items you’ll likely never need. Formal suits? Check. Punjabi suits fit for a Bollywood wedding extravaganza? Double check. But alas, the only event you’re attending is the parade of your unused attire as it returns unscathed.

And let’s not forget the turban and long fancy Kurta Payjama, because you never know when you’ll stumble upon a spontaneous Gurdwara or Mandir function in need of your sartorial splendor. Spoiler alert: it’s about as rare as finding a unicorn on your doorstep.

Shoes galore, for those elusive formal functions that exist only in the realm of wishful thinking. Because nothing says “prepared” like a closet full of footwear for events that never manifest.

Oh, and the medicines! A veritable pharmacy tucked away in your carry-on, ready to combat any ailment known to humankind. Yet, more often than not, they serve as a testament to your overzealousness rather than a necessity.

Let’s not overlook the hefty medical insurance, faithfully renewed each year in a ritualistic dance of fiscal responsibility. And while it’s comforting to know you’re covered, the only thing getting exercised is your wallet.

Swimming trunks, head caps, and a hopeful heart yearning for a dip in the ocean. But alas, the closest you’ll get to water is the miniature bottle in your hotel minibar.

Spine and neck belts, because a twinge in your back is as inevitable as death and taxes. Yet, much like those taxes, they often go unnoticed until it’s time to unpack.

And who could forget the golf kit, lugged across continents in pursuit of that elusive tee time? The only hole in one you’ll be hitting is the one in your bank account as you fork over fees for extra baggage.

Electronic gadgets abound, each one promising to capture the perfect moment. Yet, in the age of smartphones with DSLR-quality cameras, they serve as nothing more than expensive paperweights.

And finally, the heavy woollens and snow gear, prepared for the Arctic chill that never comes. Because, let’s face it, the only thing freezing here is your decision-making process.

So, dear traveler, heed these cautionary tales of overpacking and the insidious allure of the “just in case” syndrome. For in the end, the only baggage you truly need is the wisdom to pack light and the ability to laugh at your own folly. Safe travels, and may your suitcase be as empty on the return journey as it was on the outbound flight.

Guchi.