The duffle bag lay dormant at a corner
covered with dust,
treasuring many unspoken tales,
And hope laced flights of entrapped quails
Though she knew the bag’s existence,
she ignored its presence from time to time,
for she was scared rattling her long resisted yore,
and battled hard from ruffling the hornet’s nest.

But sometimes she would casually
give it a cursory glance,
unable to arrest the emotions
surging past her rational mind,

And the valise would seldom
refrain from giving back its stare,
Asking in silence to relieve it
from the time forgotten scare

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah