It was just an old tin trunk, worn and dirty, with a name stamped on top in white block letters: O. Majid.

Nothing fancy, nothing special. And on sale for just $40 at an antiques shop in the Junction.

Sarah Di Domenico bought it last year on the final day of the store’s closing sale, not knowing what was inside. But she soon learned the trunk contained a plethora of photos, notes and trinkets — dozens of small clues to one man’s life.

There were handwritten love letters from the likes of Latte, Anita and “Toots.” Schoolbooks filled with poetry. Fading photographs of smiling women and of camels in an unknown desert. Black shoelaces, made in England, still in their original packaging. And a 1946 issue of Esquire, with a price tag of 50 cents.

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There was also an international driving permit issued on June 28, 1956, to a handsome, well-dressed twenty-something man with dark hair, parted on the side, with a slight sheen — perhaps from pomade in style in that era.

His name, according to the permit, was Omar Victor Imanuel Majid.

But who could he be?

Di Domenico, a 27-year-old designer and copywriter, was determined to find out or, at the very least, to document her finds. For several months, on a Tumblr account called “Who is Omar Majid?” and an Instagram account of the same name, Di Domenico, who now lives in Montreal, posted photos of Majid’s long-lost possessions, weaving an incomplete story of his old flames, world travels and university years in Cambridge, England.

“I have become so fascinated by a complete stranger,” she says.

On Thursday, the Star tracked down the mysterious Majid — and it turned out he lives less than two hours away from where Di Domenico bought his old trunk.

“I’m the mystery man of somewhere or other,” says Majid, now 84, over the phone from his home in Crystal Beach, a district in Fort Erie, Ont.

Majid, surprised to learn his old “junk” has fascinated hundreds online, fills in the missing pieces of his life.

Born in 1931 in London, England, the son of an English mother and Indian diplomat father, he grew up in India, England and Egypt before heading to the University of Cambridge in 1950.

He studied law and economics but didn’t graduate. “I didn’t realize one had to do some studying,” says a rather droll Majid.

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After living and working around the world for several years, Majid took a job in London at age 26. But he soon had another clever idea: why not move to North America? “I was just footloose and fancy free,” he recalls.

Within a year, he was en route to Canada with $60 in his pocket.

After working for several years in St. Catharines, Majid landed a faculty position at Centennial College in the early 1960s and taught transportation, industrial power and technology training until his retirement in 1996.

Which brings us to the present — and Majid’s comfortable life as a retiree in Crystal Beach.

But what about all those love letters? Who was that flame known only as “Toots”?

“My darling Maj,” she would start her letters, dated 1952 and 1953, and always ended them with five Xs and five Os.

“That was a Danish girlfriend,” Majid says, and her real name was Liselotte. The two met when he was 19 and attending Cambridge. They courted for roughly five years and planned to marry some day but that didn’t pan out. Majid, the consummate globetrotter, took a job in Pakistan after leaving Cambridge, so that was that.

“He was quite a ladies’ man until I tamed him,” jokes Majid’s current wife, 68-year-old Cheryl Thrasher. (They tied the knot in 1994.)

Majid was previously married — to another Dane — and the couple had four children. But things fell apart, and Majid believes his old tin box, the source of so much speculation, was sold off after the divorce.

So, at last, the mystery of the box is solved, and all those curious online onlookers now know who Omar Majid is.

Asked what he would like to say to Di Domenico, who got the ball rolling, he says, with a twinkle, that he hopes she wasn’t “irritated by a young man’s follies.”

“But I would also like to thank her for finding a part of my history, too.”