The Box of Treasures, a short story by Ranjit K. Sahu
You should be quick and make your move stealthily. The stairs leading to the upstairs bedroom are carpeted so you have the advantage of tiptoeing without a lot of noise. Dragging it from below the bed creates a noise. So, none of us ever dared to see its contents. Everyone in the house is familiar with that noise after dinner. The lights would inevitably be switched on after grandfather goes to his bedroom, locking the doors behind. He insists on staying upstairs even though his agility Is diminishing with age. Every night he drags the box in and out with whatever strength he has left in him. You may also wonder why he does that. Maybe he reassures himself of something he has stored in it. If you suggest to him to keep the important contents in a bank locker he would smile and say, “Not needed. They are safe here”. If you suggest him to move downstairs with the box, he would decline it indicating he likes the view of the lake from upstairs.
The lights would remain switched on for an hour or two and you could sense grandfather was going to sleep soon when the second sound of the box being dragged rings in your ears.
Had you been present when the box was opened after his death you would have been emotionally rattled too.
You would have traversed in time to another world sans any electronic communications. A world of handwritten letters speaking in personalized tones from across the world. A treasure invaluable to grandfather and no one else. Those who had written those letters are long gone!
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