He opened the old briefcase,
Something he had not dared to open,
For a decade.
And with trembling hands,
He rattled the content of the box,
And then it was hard for him to stop.
Then he saw the old tunic cloth,
The one she used to wear,
And used to drape with so much love.
He looked at with a pensive smile,
And that moment,
Washed away all the past riles.
Copyright © Shantanu Baruah