From The Quill

I have no words to say That I miss you. Except that when I do The music starts sounding A little monotonous  The winter becomes a little More foggy and polluted. My imagination finds no words,  And life has a little less meaning,  Until I find you again. ~ Suranya

 I find myself in unfamiliar surroundings, Wander alone through the complex roads, That intertwines like two snakes fighting for survival And I chance upon a stranger. The sunlight reflects on his face. Blurring my view of his features. “ Is this the State of Mind? ” I ask. “ What are you looking for? ” He smiled. “ Peace. ” I show him the address. He shakes his head, amused. “ It’s a difficult road ahead, you would need more… ” “ More of what? ” “ Thick Skin, Carefreeness and a lot of self-love. ” “ Then? ” I ask, intrigued. “ Then you will perhaps find a glimpse of it some day. An idea, an abstract, a utopian world. You will get there, slowly, when it's time. ” “ How do I know when the time comes? ” “ When Death knocks at your door, Asking you to let go, He will surely take you there. ” “ But can I not reach there before Death arrives? ” He laughs, a hearty laugh, staring at me, Like I was a child asking something naive.  “ You will find a glimpse of it someday. ”  His ...

The silence is killing me Is not an expression  For some of us. Silence is a curse A reminder of demons that chase us Voices in our head, sins and shame We drown in the noise of the world. We need headphones in a crowd Playing music that keeps us warm Amidst cold judgemental stares. We need stories to be told to us Like when we were children To fall asleep to. Silence bothers us Like noise bothers some people. The beating of the heart, The involuntary breath The thoughts in my head I don't want to face  All come haunting me at midnight  In the silences And Music works its magic Drowning out everything Questionable and Tragic  Drifting me to sleep As if the universe Sings me a lullaby. © Suranya

Love, I had walked to your sanctum Seeking refuge for my barren soul. Hoping to be enlightened Praying to be chosen By your grace. I encounter strangers Who promise to be you Yet, they know not what you are. I encounter promises Vague and unkept, Unlike what you vowed for. I chance upon kindness, A welcome breeze of freshness And people think it is you. I smile at naivety, The desperate search for your presence That makes them feel they will be Less lonely, less unhappy, less insecure. But you never promised to be so, isn't it? In the chase, in the expectation and idea, They have lost you somewhere A representation of you they seek outward But can't offer themselves. I walk down the road alone, Solitude is my peace, As I realise I have been looking For you at the wrong places, In people and things, But never within me. ~ Suranya

I gave you my heart  Not looking for lessons  Nor expecting to be hurt. I trusted you with my soul,  My identity, my being.  Why is it that now,  I stand at your threshold,  Eyes full of tears,  Heart full of questions? Why can't you look at me,  When you say everything was a lie? If I had known, love was this  The pain I endure  The betrayal I feel  The trust was shattered into broken pieces  Of my never-to-be-healed heart.  I would have never loved you,  The way I unfortunately do.  ~ Suranya

 Once, just for once, imagine if this is the other side. The heaven or hell you dreaded,  A place you believed to exist (or not)  Because your faith said,  There was something good beyond. A reward for your virtues, a punishment for your sins.  What if it's just this, your world of good and bad?  No other repercussion of your actions exists. What if this is the place and you don't know it yet? It just gets worse and worst, doesn't it? That place you thought of often,  Your perfect parallel universe,  A loop of the same lives.  The seeking doesn't end. Then, what is the meaning of life? Is it just to reach the end? You keep asking, till you can't anymore.  Your head feels light, Everything is meaningless.  Silence fills the void; nobody answers. ~ Suranya

 How many times do you die;  Before you are truly dead?  Your body and mind work  Like people expect them to work  But you don't think before you act,  Or say or feel anymore. You live like a habit, you don't live anymore. How many of us can say we truly lived To know ourselves more than what  Others expect us to be?  To do the things we want to? How many can say we truly lived  Before we died? ~ Suranya