The Suitcase

I once owned a suitcase

The one which you wouldn't find now

It was sturdy and strong 

The top had a brown cloth lining

With leather patches in the corners

It was lockable with a click 

A prominent sound made

When unlocked too

The inside was blue the hue of infinity 

And spacious too

I stored my precious gems in there

Only a few.....the epics, Ramayana

And Mahabharata, Shakespeare,

Ben Hur, Three Muskateers,

Engrossing translated versions

For children with beautiful pictures

On glazed papers in between 

I read the stories again and again

Deeply inhaled the fragrance 

Of yellowed pages...stared at the

Pictures for hours and hours

Time travelling to be with them

When Ben Hur rode the chariot

And M'Lady smiled mysteriously

Hanuman blazed down Lanka

And the Pandavas battled against

Their brothers....I lived and re-lived

The tales with unforgettable characters

Then I lost to time the suitcase

And my treasures in transit to

Another .... of survival of the fittest 

But it's smell and warmth 

Still remained with me and became

Stronger from memory to living reality

I know as I grow younger by heart

And older by age...the trove shall

Return to me with divine grace

Because that's the rule of the Universe

As linear proceeds time we humans move

Backwards from branches to branches

To slender twigs to wizardry of stems 

And then the roots spread deep within

The bosom of the Earth where all of us

Shall sleep at last with Macbeth, Othello,

Hamlet, Ram, Arjun and the rest

Shared with Poets And Storytellers United