The cocoon is dark and cold, I feel suffocated inside.
I felt the end was near, and then I saw sunlight
The setting red hues and I hear a crack,
Is that blood I see in the sky? No, I see a drop of red in me.
I flutter restless to realise the cocoon has finally cracked.
I was free as a bird, soaring high, I emerged as red as the sun.
My wings as red as a drop of blood on a human hand.
I was free, liberated, anew.
Or was I?
Yet my soul remains trapped
In a new body of mortality.
~ Suranya
Can I ever be pure again, from the heart, soul, mind and body?
Be Chast in this selfish world, that dirtied my mind with its sins?
Can I ever be naive again? Oh, how my heart longs for it.
I put up a wall around me, that shields me from the world.
I do not want this society, its meaningless deeds and ways.
I do not feel at home, my heart refuses to acknowledge it.
Yet again the darkness engulfs me; the walls around me narrow
Taller and taller they rise above me; I struggle to breathe.
I struggle to find my way, for the light I see is not in the end.
"You don't belong here." The bricks whispered taunts.
I shut my ears, and close my eyes.
I feel vulnerable as I sink.
The ground beneath me changes form,
I struggle to escape as I drown in it.
Deeper and deeper the darkness does not fade,
Is that Death I see lurking around?
"Will you dare to listen to your heart again?"
A mocking voice in my head repeats.
I struggle to stand up, with my heart thumping.
"Yes, yes yes!"
With every word the darkness fades, and the moon shines above me.
The stars come out one by one and I breathe freely again.
The heart remains chaste by deeds and thoughts
A soul beyond the facade.
One by one the stars fade out, the sun rising
On the dawn of realisation
And my heart beats on.
~ Suranya
This is a line I remember when Christmas comes to mind. For all who have no idea it's how the novel "Little Women" starts. As children, the day went in super excited mode with surprises, presents from Santa and also a good treat of a day out with parents. Going out for the day. And loads of chocolates.
As we went into our teens, it usually got replaced by going out with friends and to church all decked up. The tradition of a reunion on this day continues for me. But somewhere in between this, I miss being the kid I was. Thinking about what all I have messed up throughout the year, and if Santa is happy with me or not. Today I sulk over not having a secret Santa while I gift myself some books instead. Christmas, I realise, just like any other celebration, changes in its importance as we grow up. But then, I remember this chapter from Little Women and realise Christmas is all about family time. And when you grow older with a handful of friends you can count on your fingers, the friends are indeed part of your family.
~ Suranya
Gayero se kya Sikhayat karna, apne bhi kaha samajhte hai tumhe?
Apno se kya sikayat karna, wo bas pehchante hai tumhe.
Par kya tumne andar jhaak ke dekha?
Pucha apne aap se,
Kaha hai manzil, kya janta bhi hai dil?
Bas Musafir hai ek anjaab safar mein.
Koi apna nahi koi gayer nahi.
Kabhi Andhero mein dekho toh, Parchayee bhi kaha sath deti hai?
Apno se kya Shikwa karna jab khud bhi kaha
Tumko pata hai, ke Dil akhir Chahta kya hai?
~ Suranya
The waves were crashing at her feet. She could feel them.
His voice was whispering her name. Her giggles were carefree and happy. Then suddenly the music player stopped.
She opened her eyes. Sitting frozen in the cold, dark room. Alone.
The lonely night was her reality.
~ Suranya
I had a dream,
I saw you in it,
Yet I didn't know you.
I kept going back to you.
You kept calling me.
Yet with a name unfamiliar.
I had a dream.
I kept going back to the place
Where it felt like Home.
Yet I had never been there.
I knew the rooms and the lanes
Yet I didn't.
I had a dream.
I was happy.
Content. Secure.
Until I woke uρ.
And wished it was all
I could feel for real.
© Suranya
Sometimes I talk like Geet.
Sometimes I dance like Vaidehi.
Sometimes I live life like Aditi.
Sometimes I dream simply like Rani.
Sometimes, Dear Zindagi works like real therapy.
And Jab We Met, like real post-breakup healing.
Sometimes I think like Veera,
Or I cry with Naina.
Every time I dance, I feel like a KJo heroine.
Every time a romantic song plays,
I feel like dancing in a YRF movie.
I worship SRK like the god of Love,
And choose my wardrobe according to the movies I like.
My character reflects the character in my head
For a good few days, I act like her.
Sounds mad?
It's just a typically Bolly buff Indian girl
That lives in each one of us.
Be Dramatic.
- Suranya
He was in no hurry to leave the office. It was around an hour past his normal time that he decided to go home. Turning the keys to his bike, he rode home at a moderate speed. Climbing the stairs up to his fourth-floor apartment slowly, he turned the keys at the door. The empty dark apartment greeted him instead of the one that smelled of coffee and cocoa butter cream. Silence filled the room as he kept the keys on the table beside the frame. He stared at the frame for a moment. Should he call? What will she think? She had gone only for a day, and he couldn't possibly have any valid reason to call her. She was so happy when she left for home. Her smiling face flashed in his mind.
He had dropped her off at her parents' place for the weekend. Coming back to the apartment, he had realised how much he was getting used to having her around in the past few months. She must be enjoying her stay. He had wondered. And dropped the idea of calling her. Twice.
He settled down on the sofa with some brewed coffee.
He was used to living alone. Or so he thought in the last 5 years. She had changed everything. The idea of arranged marriage and even telling her that he needed time to get used to her was something he never imagined being comfortable with. What was tougher was to not admire how she handled it all. His house, their relationship. He smiled, realising in his solitude that he had fallen in love with his wife.
~ Suranya
In a land of warriors, of battles, scars and deaths, she spoke of love. Love in the purest forms. Of platonic ways and breaking barriers of society. She pined for love. For some, she seemed mad. Others called her a goddess. Some said she was lonely. A widow at such a young age. Most flocked to hear her sing. She sang praises. Songs of love. Of hardship. And sacrifices. She found life in him. Solace in him. She found the life she always sought. Wearing a saffron attire, she danced in her own world. She smiled and talked to the idol. In his prayers and praises, she found the love she sought. Because we have enough love in us to last a lifetime without it. She was proof of that. People call her Girdhar's Meera. The princess of Merta, the Kunwarani of Chittorgarh, was best known as the saint poetress. Lost in the love of unearthly feelings. The life she wanted beyond the glory of royalty was always Him.
I see the world, and I have a question. Are we committed to the idea of love,
Or just falling in love? Because once we are in it, we rarely feel the magic anymore.
~ Suranya
I like getting to know people. Small talk. Large ideas.
I like getting to know cultures. Traditions. Values.
I like to explore places. New feelings. Experiences. Views.
Then slowly with the liking attachment follows.
A sense of belonging. A right of possession.
A feeling of care. Perhaps, trust?
Questions crop up. Emotions are explored.
There is a certain beauty to all of that.
Getting to know strangers. Falling in love.
While you are on the journey, everything feels magical.
Filmy. Perfect. Flawless.
You are in Love.
And then it begins. Expectations. Jealousy. Ego.
The bubble burst. You are tired of trying.
Drained of emotions.
You choose to walk away, or perhaps towards a person or place.
A new attachment, magic begins once again.
I see all these, and I question.
Are we committed to the idea of love, or just falling in love?
Because once you are in it, we rarely feel the magic anymore.
Strangers to friends to lovers to strangers.
We lose people in between.
What are we actually looking for?
Forever in a life that ends?
Or chasing a feeling of falling in love?
Again and again.
~ Suranya
A part of you dies every day, a new you is born.
A soul evolves in the imprisonment of a body
Waiting to be released from bondage.
Set free from worldly pleasures and approvals
Of forced and fake relationships
That suffocates the soul inside you.
~ Suranya
Na Galat Thi Woh,
Na Galti Kiya Tha Koi
Na Bhagi Thi Wo Koi Yudh Se,
Na Kisiko Bewajah Saza Sunaya Tha
Galti Toh Bas Itni Si Thi Uski,
Pardah Chorke Samne Khadi thi,
Mardo Ke Sath Ladi Thi.
Galti Bas Itna Thi, Ke Ladki Thi Woh
Takt Pe Kaise Baith Gayi?
~ Suranya
Imaraton se bhari iss jahan mein.
Ith Patthar se bane hai makaan kayi. Afsoos ki baat toh yeh hai.
Bas ghar nahi hai kahi.
~ Suranya
I sit on the window seat of the speeding bus
The wind in my hair, music in my ears
And I look around.
Most of my copassengers are engrossed in a phone.
Some in games, some messages.
Some scrolling through social networks.
The conductor shouts out stoppage names.
Otherwise we are all silent.
I wonder if suddenly
All those phones stopped working.
Perhaps we will have
Some interesting conversation.
A stare here, a smile there.
And there will be many more stories
To tell and hear
While you make your journey Home.
~ Suranya
Real, naked and exposed. The character revealed himself And the reader fell in Love. Alas, the world still didn't believe In Platonic Love.
~ Suranya
THE GREATEST FOOL IS ONE WHO ASSUMES HE KNOWS EVERYTHING.
AND IS ALWAYS RIGHT. BECAUSE THAT'S WHEN YOU STOP LEARNING. AND STOP KNOWING THAT RIGHT AND WRONG ARE JUST PERSPECTIVES.
NOT ETERNAL TRUTHS.
~ Suranya
Dear Self,
Have you ever known yourself? Fully and completely? Every bit and piece of your heart, soul and mind? Understood your capabilities and fears? No?
Then how can you expect one relationship or person to know the whole of you and understand you?
Love, Your Instincts.
- Suranya
Once upon a time stood a tree between two houses. Every day, the ladies used to come under it in the afternoon and gossip over the achar-making process. Each day, the grandparents would sit with a book under it and have a game of chess. One day, underneath it, the children were engaged in children's play and making merry when the boy playfully pushed the girl. The mothers argued. The fathers had a fist fight. They decided to build a boundary wall. The tree stood in the way. It was cut down. A massive wall was constructed. Like them, many other houses followed. The city turned into a skyline of cement. Not a tree in sight. And then, when the people choked in smog, they remembered the same old tree that once stood there. Now, who was to be blamed, really?
~ Suranya
Ye Haseen Lamhe, Kahi Tere Khwab Toh Nahi?
Ye Namkeen Aasoon, Teri Yaadon Ka Mehfil Toh Nahi?
Ae Musafir, Bas Itna Bata De Humko
Ishq Ke Iss Jogan Ka,
Kahin Tu Rab Toh Nahi?
~Suranya
" World's first human head transplant occurs in China." The paper read.
"Duh!" Ganesha smiled and threw it away.
- Suranya
THE WORLD IS FULL OF TALES.
WAITING TO BE TOLD.
YOU JUST NEED TO SEE THEM IN A CROWD AND BE THEIR WORDS.
~ Suranya
One night, when out for a walk, he ran off his leash playfully.
"Brownie!" She shouted alarmed, fearing a loss eternally.
The rain started to pour, much like the night she found him.
Her heart beat faster, in anxiety.
She stopped at the figure in the distance, carrying her dog was he
She murmured a "Thank You" while Brownie hugged back pleased.
He had smiled at them both, and the shivering girl offered coffee.
They talked for hours until Brownie yawned grumpily.
The Church Bells rang, and a year later, the ring bearer was wagging his tail
His soulmate had found love, in a stranger he had met.
She stared at her boys playing, sitting pretty in a wedding gown
Her smile needed no makeup glow, her laughter was the happiest music.
She had sought love all her life, chasing the wrong ones.
They never had the guts to fight for her, she was not flawed.
They made her believe she was less.
He stared into her eyes, exchanging vows, the woof interrupted them
His eyes spoke everything she ever looked for,
He called her "Perfectly flawed."
~ Suranya
It so happened yesterday that I was watching the rerun of the last season of How I Met Your Mother. And let me start with, unlike other fans, I loved how it ended. Because Ted Mosby is not about the Happily Ever After. He is a man looking for love. Seeking it in every girl he dates. From Robin to Stella and everyone else, he tried in vain to make people stay and the relationship work. It's his journey. To be who he is. He can't stay single. So he jumps into relationships, hoping she is his one. And also, in the process, he learns bits and pieces about Love. It's Ted's Journey to love. Tracy is the destination. And beyond her, when the dream comes to an end, is his forever with Robin.
Time is in different zones for us. Career. Love. Life. Every person has a time assigned for them. Be patient. The midlife crisis happens for everyone. But in the end, there is always a yellow umbrella out there for everyone. Or perhaps a blue French horn. You just need to look out for it. And make the bravest move to make them stay. Your yellow umbrella or blue French horn is just out there in the future somewhere to teach you the most important lessons of life in the most beautiful of ways. 🔚❤️
~ Suranya
Prince of the magic lamp, I wait upon the stars
For Someone to be my Saviour.
Constellations change with time, but the horizon remains empty.
No sign of a warrior, I sigh at the desert.
As strange as magic sounds, as dreamy as love can be,
I see you now, hoping you are not a mirage.
Not on a white horse, but a magic carpet you rode,
Bravely flying up to me.
You call yourself a prince of somewhere unknown.
I, your Jasmine, know you are the king of my heart,
Aladdin, you don't have to be a perfect prince
To be my Forever Love.
~ Suranya
Why live in a world of stories? Because that's where dreams come true, people are happy and Forever is not a myth.
~ Suranya
"It's a small place."He declared, turning the keys.
"Homes are made of love. Not the square feet of your house." She smiled.
~ Suranya
You pat me to sleep,
Every time I cry alone.
Your warm hug fills my heart
Every time I fail.
You come to me,
In the darkness and silence.
I feel you near me
In every gust of sudden wind.
In raindrops and the smell of roses.
They light lamps and pray to God.
They are scared of spirits descending
Tonight, on Chaturdashi.
But the naive men don't know
Some spirits don't even leave.
Do they?
~ Suranya
People love music. Some catch the notes. Others,. The lyrics. And I wait for a story. A story that unfolds in a song, Emotions confessed. Perhaps some regretted Reason I love Folk songs is that they always convey a story, perhaps a story from history or legends, long lost in the past.
Then there are the romantic tunes, Songs that make your heart ache. Or perhaps take you on a trip down nostalgia lane. There are some songs you carefully avoid in your playlist. But never delete them, I wonder why. Hope? Or the habit of holding on to memories? Or perhaps a reminder that the people and places are not ours anymore. Sometimes when you brave your feelings to listen to them, they take you back to places where the song doesn't feel the same any more. Is it because of the people and places we associate with them, or perhaps that one person who gave us that song?
Some songs make you feel like you are in a scene of a movie. Certain songs you prefer to play on your long drives, sync and imagine your hair blowing in the wind in slow motion. Then some songs take you to a world of imagination.
Songs that can make you dream and hope. Then there are the patriotic ones that leave you with pride, moist eyes and goosebumps. So many feelings and one source: Songs. Where Poetry meets Music...
So, the best way to let someone know they mean so much to you? Find them a song meant just for you two. The best way to hold on to a place? Listen to a song sitting there. A song that can be a memory, or lyrics the feelings unsaid. Even if the person leaves, or you come away from the place, every time the song plays, you will go back there and feel the way you felt when you chose that song.
© Suranya
She was the Sea.
Unsteady. Never-ending. Turbulent.
He was the Shore.
Calm. Composed. Sorted.
He was her reason.
To come back again and again.
To hold on and let go.
All at once.
Never together. Never apart.
Some love stories live forever.
~ Suranya
I love those places where signal strength is low,
Where phones don't work and you are truly alone.
I love those (places) the most where the arches speak,
Domes speak of stories long forgotten in History.
In them, I see His stories, the past that I seek.
Once Upon A Time, I had this feeling.
I chanced upon the perfect place
Dreams came true there, so strongly I felt!
The water of an unnamed Lake met the gentle breeze.
The white stoned Domes, standing in silence,
For a few centuries.
A silence full of noises, of a past that haunts.
There was also a lamp flickering, fighting the wind.
A plaque, attributed to a Braveheart and his kin.
There I was, sitting on the marble, staring at Him;
What remains of Him perhaps, a name, fame, ashes and memories
Immortal deeds, innumerable stories, waiting to be told.
The silence there spoke, more than anyone else ever did.
They say people are granted a new life,
With every life-altering moment.
Do you know,
They sometimes meet themselves as well,
In these rare moments?
Disconnecting myself from the world around me,
This was my Renaissance.
Suranya
Her coming back to his shores.
His letting go of her waves.
Never together. Never apart.
Since eternity.
Bound by reality
Love splashes
Between the land and the sea.
~ Suranya
Waking up in his hostel dorm, He smiled at the gift on his bed. "Happy Birthday", it read. Frowning, the orphan looked around. Abandoned, he had no birthdays. The roommate peeped in. " I found a brother on this day, So Happy Birthday, Brother." Tears swelling, he had hugged. His newfound family.
-Suranya
She had chosen the fire altar, her self-respect before her father's pride. The mute spectators saw her walk up to the Havan Kund, in her fury, as her father ignorantly continued to hurl abuses at the one who remained in her heart. The greatest of the men was scared by the hurt in her eyes. Her black hair darkening the day as it flew in the gust of wind, her red vermilion as powerful as a thousand Suns, she had smiled at the crowd sarcastically. Cursed them all for their silence. And she had for once thought of him. The one who was part of her soul. How will he survive? Her death would devastate him. But her self-respect didn't let her love come in the way. Her soul was now impure with the insults her father had hurled at him. This soul deserved no life.
So before jumping into the altar, she had stared up towards the North. Towards Home. And she made a promise.
In another life. In another time. Perhaps. But she will always come back. To him. For him. Because she would always be Shiva's Sati. In this life, next and forever. In any form or situation. Love, that attached their souls, was timeless.
Tall and proud, reaching for the sky,
Alone and unique, the Mountain stood,
Lofting over the clouds.
The River down in the valley,
Fell in love with him.
But rainfed and non-perennial
She could see him only from afar.
He was rugged, lifeless and cold.
Ignorant of the river,
So she turned bold.
She found it hard
To climb up his steep sides.
But to reach him was her aim,
The River tried again and again.
So she turned herself into rain,
Drop by drop, she reached his terrain
Turning herself into snow
For his majestic peaks.
She decided to entwine herself,
Adding life to his greatness.
So she turned into a stream
And soaked him in her love.
The trees grew thick,
On the stone cold rocks,
The Mountain had life,
A gift from the River.
Grateful in turn, year after year
He stopped the clouds
From taking her away.
And every time he stopped them,
They rained her love on him,
Turning her once again into glaciers
That made him a source of life.
~ Suranya
Reaching home at 4AM, Esha ran to the bathroom. She turned on the shower. The water was cold and prickled her soft, hot skin like raindrops. It trickled down her red dress to the floor. Her eye makeup was smudged. It dripped down the cheeks. She did not care. She closed her eyes and let the water cleanse her body. Slowly, she slipped out of the dress and let the water droplets touch her naked, exposed skin. It erupted into goosebumps. She rubbed at her red lips with her painted nails; her ruined makeup, waist, hands and every inch of her body that was touched needed to be cleansed. She breathed in, heavily, letting out a sigh, as silent teardrops mixed with the water. Only those were salty to taste. She sat down on the tiled floor, unaware of how many minutes or hours had passed by. The water flow decreased. She wearily turned off the tap. The dry clean towel waited to drape itself around her naked body. She had finally cleaned the sins of the night. An escort had walked in. The mother walked out. She counted the money in her purse with a smile. Finally, her child's school fees will be paid.
© Suranya
The bride's relatives sat talking of a female trafficking racket busted in the city. She sat silent, watching them say how sorry the state of the country. They made her smile. Not all girls were sold the same way. Some transactions were more elite. Sitting pretty among her belongings was her price. The 'educated' called it Gifts, not Dowry.
© Suranya
.png)
With every Sunset
There is a Sunrise.
With every end, A new Beginning.
And with every shattered dream,
Hopes to find new ones.
~ Suranya
His eyes stopped as her's met his. She looked away immediately, but the smile in her eyes captured his. Homecoming was now worth it, he realised.
~ Suranya
The vermilion on her hairline doesn't give you the right to abuse her soul.
#MeToo has been doing the rounds. We don't often talk of abuses. Like that relative whose touch is uncomfortable. Or perhaps those guys who hoot at you. And the most obvious ones. Abuses in relationships. Marital Rape and Abuse, physically and mentally, is something that is less talked about. We all talk of rapes, but those inside closed doors without the consent of the bride are called as valid by society. Why? Putting vermilion on someone or signing a few papers doesn't make them your property. The issue of abuse is not only physical but also mental. Many across the world don't face scars on the body, but the scars on the mind remain. Society doesn't do candle marches and media coverage for them, nor do their own families support or protest against it. No, such crimes are not normal. A man, a lover, a husband has no right to be forceful to anyone as their property. It is important to teach your children from an early age not to raise their hands when angry, or perhaps the fact that their parents, or anyone else, is never their property. Abuse, both mentally and physically, is equally bad. Tormenting someone's mind and life is an equal sin. This should be taught in awareness from an early age. To both the tormentors and sufferers.
~ Suranya
A little bit of heaven, A little bit of hell, A pinch of love, Before I sail.
A little bit of hope, A little bit of dreams, A life of Purpose Is all I seek.
~ Suranya
Pinki was uploading a picture on Instagram.
Rahul was updating his Tinder bio for the weekend.
Mom was checking her Twitter followers.
Dad stared at them and updated his Facebook
"Getting Bored."
The dining table was silent with socialising.
~ Suranya
The historian saw carnage.
The writer heard an untold story of sacrifice.
The traveller felt something in the wind.
The tourist found a perfect guide.
The photographer clicked a perfect shot.
The art lover witnessed some spectacular monuments.
Then there was I.
I touched the broken pillars and arches.
And found a tear drop on my cheek.
~ Suranya
IF SOMETHING SCARES YOU,
BE IT AS SIMPLE AS DARKNESS
OR AS COMPLICATED AS LOSING PEOPLE,
THE BEST THING TO DO IS FIGHT.
FIGHT YOUR FEARS.
FIGHT FOR THE PEOPLE WHO MATTER.
LET GO OF YOURSELF.
HOLD ON TO PEOPLE.
-SURANYA
She spoke like his mother,
Smiled like a child.
And stared like a doe-eyed deer.
His instincts told him she was trouble.
But his warrior heart wanted a taste of the dream.
Because his life was full of bloodshed
She brought a handful of hope,
With a pinch of Love,
Enough to mend his broken world.
- Suranya
The sun sets on Chittorgarh.
The darkness engulfed Mewar in fear of the Turk Invaders.
But people often forget that every darkness is welcomed by a new day.
The sun rise on Mewar's fortune was called Pratap.
Her son, Saviour, the Maharana.
Pratap.
~ Suranya
(Written while witnessing a Sunset at Chittor)
Silent nights. Raindrops on my pane.
Sound of water falling to the roofs and lanes.
I can feel my own breath.
I can feel my thoughts.
Sometimes they lack words...
Proper sentences. Or verse.
Most times they lack a listener.
So the pen and paper listen.
While I rant out my feelings.
Lyrics play along,
And Music does the healing.
~ Suranya
Jai Bhavani!
The ladies echoed in unison. Their voices reflected the true essence of women's power. Sacrifice. Bravery. Honour. Just like the Goddess herself. Only, these women carried their weapons in their hearts. It was love for their motherland. And honour for their soul. The echo increased. So did the burning of the wood, in the Kund. Thousands gathered before it. Hands folded. Nervous heartbeats. Scared smiles. But eyes full of confidence. Every Rajputani was born for this day. A few like them had the opportunity. In the crowd, a young, scared princess, perhaps of five or six, whispered, Are we going to die, Maasa? Her mother pressed her hand.
We are going to survive. She reassured.
How? Asked the daughter in dismay. The room echoed with screams and smell. Smell of burning flesh. Her mother pressed her hands again.
In the soil of our motherland. Our ashes will perish in every corner of our land. And we will survive in her. She let go of her daughter and moved forward.
Jai Bhavani.
It was time.
The princess was always scared of fire. But today, as she saw her mother, stepmother, aunts, siblings, and sisters smile and make their way, she didn't shudder. She was now on the first line, just before the fire gods calling out to her. Her eyes blurred. Her heart raced. But her feet didn't stop.
Jai Bhavani.
She heard her own voice one last time, before she felt the heat rise up and engulf her body. She had plunged into being eternal and immortal. The ashes turned the sky grey. Each particle of ash made its way slowly to settle on the soil of the motherland and mix with its sand. She was now one and the same with her. Forever. Timeless souls needed no names to survive in history.
Up in the snow-clad Himalayas, a Yogi sat. Turning away from life and all its emotions and attachments. He had lost love once. He took it as his own fault. He was cursed to be alone and serve the people and his purpose. He had sworn that no woman would again affect him as his beloved, innocent Sati did.
Sixteen-year-old Gauri was adamant. About the only man she loved and chose to marry. Her soul was his. Before this birth and after it. She had always been his. How could he not accept her? She had started the hardest penance to get his love. After all, his was the best love any girl could dream of, with respect, loyalty and dedication. She had made it clear that love was always undergoing tests. And it's an age-old tradition of pain and separation attached to Love. But that love is true and wins over every hurdle, if they don't give in and quit. Love can be separated, not lost. Love sometimes needs to be won. And fought for. Held on to. She is hopeful that one day he will be compelled to come to her. To answer her love. With Love. A fighter by birth, Gauri doesn't give up on him. The wanderer had to turn into a householder for her. Such was the power of Love. And Them.
Facing dejection again and again
The younger sibling rebelled
Against the better older one.
Tired of hearing he was of no use.
Bibhishan was the black sheep of the family.
So was Yuyutsu.
Sibling rivalry was indeed deadly.
~ Suranya
He smiled at the dying figure of the teenager.
He was now going to sit upon the throne.
What Banbir forgot was that for every betrayal there is a greater loyalty.
For every sin, a greater sacrifice. As Panna stood watching him kill her son instead of the heir prince.
~ Suranya
Five hundred years back, Miles away, her heart beat with his. Prayed as he fought. Smiled as he won. They needed no letters to communicate.
Today, lying beside each other, keeping heaps of secrets in between, Couples become Strangers.
- Suranya
The poor Hindu man was blessing the Muslim emperor. The taxes were removed. He could now go on a free pilgrimage with his family. The emperor was kind. He prayed for Peace.
The Muslim man clenched his jaw, watching his Hindu king starve while he fed his people. Smiling slightly, he offered his King his own little plate of leaves. His King was fighting a battle for freedom. He prayed for Peace.
God smiled somewhere as he led the King and the Emperor into a battle. He had his own hope. To teach people a lesson of patriotism above religion. Because each battle has a reason. And theirs was patriotism.
~ Suranya
Watching the people around the classroom flaunting rakhis, He wished he had a sister. Standing at the hospital, His father prayed for another son.
~ Suranya
The fort walls were coated with soot. The scene of an aftermath was not new to the warrior or the king. Then what was it that made all the warriors go numb?
It was a small chamber, perhaps in the lowest basement of the most magnificent palace he had ever seen. Filled with thick black smoke rising up to the grey, gloomy sky, the warriors had struggled to breathe as they made their way into the chamber. Eager to search for what they were looking for. Shocked at the sight of thousands of burnt bodies, they stood numb. Ashamed of their own deeds. The king, who was rejoicing in his win, was dumbfounded. The beauty that led him to this war was now an unidentified corpse.
You have superpowers.
It can take you to places.
Make you feel what you want to experience.
Travel back in time.
And be in places you have never been to.
To make dreams come true.
And meet people you have never met.
Feel emotions you have never felt.
And it's all a small pinch of magic potion.
Called Imagination.
~ Suranya
I had a dream, I kept going back to it.
The place where it felt like Home.
Yet I have never been there.
I had a dream, I saw You in it.
Yet I did not know you.
I kept going back in loops,
You kept calling my name.
Yet, the name was unfamiliar.
But why did it feel like mine?
I had a dream, I was finally happy.
Then,
I woke up.
~ Suranya
Dear Ted,
Thank you for the story of never giving up on Love. From the blue horn to the yellow umbrella, you made great friends, greater mistakes and you found love. Thank you for making us hang on to you and the gang for 12 years.
The first time Ted Mosby started telling his kids about how he met their mother, I was hooked. The blue horn, his friends, Barney, legend wait for it, Marshmallow and Lilypad. And then there was Aunt Robin. The moment he said "Aunt", my heart sank a bit. So was it when Robin and Barney dated. But Robin turned Barney into a better man. And Ted, he was clueless and yet never gave up on Love. His idea of the One was a chase behind all the wrong women in the most hilarious ways. To those who were disappointed with how it ended, How I Met Your Mother was never about how his life was with the one. It was always about the journey to Destiny. And yes. I don't know about you I had a wide smile when the kids said You love Aunt Robin. I was waiting for that all through the seasons. And that was a perfect example of sometimes we overlook what we have right in front of our eyes and look for things elsewhere. Yes, he had found his one, and his one was not about the girl he was chasing in his mind or the yellow umbrella. His one was always about that first girl who taught him to love. Thank you, Ted, for hanging on after so many almosts and maybe... Thank you for teaching us never to give up on Love. You will always be the One who inspires my musings on the One. Thank you, Barney, for caring to change for your daughter. Thank you, Lily and Marshall, for relationship goals. And Robin for waiting for Ted. Thank you for the memories, HIMYM.
~ Suranya
They said the dreams were impossible. They said he was mad. To even think it can all be done. He sat thinking over his last peace treaty. His ultimate plan. The map in front of him. The Mughal had an army of 20000; his army was only 8000. What will he do? Hearing footsteps, he closes the maps. And forces a smile at her. She places down his glass of milk and eyes the half-folded map. He starts with a sigh, " I don't know, Ajabde. All my life, I have lived in war. I fail to give my children a secure life. Should we surrender or keep the fight on?" She smiled. Her best friend. Her soulmate. Was the father now in a dilemma? Her children were at stake. She said very calmly," What about the other children all over the land who see you as a father? Will you give away their freedom?" He stares at her, mesmerised. " We chose this life, Ranaji. In the storms lies our battle, and in the storms lies our victory. Don't you know that?" He smiled, opening the map again. Time to act on some guerrilla tactics.
~ Suranya
I was searching for you.
In every person I met,
Every character I read,
Every dream I had.
I found you nowhere.
Near or far, I kept looking,
Not ready to give up.
Then one day,
I came across a mirror
And realised
I had forgotten to search within me.
Where you truly belong.
~ Suranya
A dream of dreams, she stood by the shore.
The water of the waves, washing up her feet
Coming and retreating much like the people we meet.
The gust of wind played with her hair,
Closing her eyes, she could hear it whisper.
"Maybe in another time, another era, another life,
You stood here, witnessing nature,
Holding someone's hand in yours,
Now you stand here alone, independent, driven.
Still, you feel that void, don't you?"
Like a piece of the puzzle is still missing,
To complete the fulfilment of her heart,
She opened her eyes in hope, and let her fingers entwine and fold,
Perhaps to hold on to something, or someone, non-existent
Or someone waiting to enter her story.
~ Suranya
Lonely hearts, troubled minds,
Youngblood, false pride.
Emotions and infatuations,
Drunken nights and confessions.
Moving on and confusion.
A weak moment for one.
A first heartbreak for another.
Avoiding glances, guiltless pleasure,
Endless attraction, secret ships.
Love lost to "Lust"
In all these.
~ Suranya
The sand on the Shores hid treasures of shells,
Under His skin, like a man with secrets.
In the distance, the setting sun shone,
In the vast sky, like a man in love,
Spreading scarlet hues across the world.
The rays kissed the Sea, turning the waves blush red.
With a pinch of vermillion, the Sky painted the Sea
He made Her a reflection of Him,
From dusk to dawn, day to night, the Sea saw Herself
Coloured in His tone, just the way He liked it.
The Sky made the Sea easily His,
While She tried all Her life in vain, to Meet the Shores.
~ Suranya
Literacy should be a birthright.
But then again, not everyone who can write is literate in the minds.
True knowledge for eager minds is never bound by literacy.
Then again, literacy gives you self-confidence.
Literacy is never too late to start.
Look around, and help those around you.
Towards a truly literate world.
~ Suranya
The darkness that surrounds Shows no promises of hope, no light at the end of the tunnel. It is then that you light the lamp. The rays of hope within you, and move on, braving the unknown.
~ Suranya
One was lost in to fire.
Another emerged from it.
But who saw the fire in the society?
In the Agni Pariksha, each one of us survives.
The thousands and hundreds of women everyдау.
Some, the outspoken protesting Sita.
Some, the silent bearer of wrongdoing, like Draupadi.
Yes, History sadly repeats itself.
~ Suranya
Amidst the rumbles and ruins,
Somewhere in that smell of history,
In her mind's eye,
Characters came alive again
Just like reincarnations.
Talking of emotions,
Fears and flaws
That was never a part of
Their battlefield of life
In the book's history is claimed to be true.
Of Jauhars and Sakas
That painted the walls soot black,
Of wars fought for and won;
Through blood, sweat and courage;
Of love, in stories immortal,
Of families standing by each other and not.
Of the bravest hearts which
Dreamt the impossible.
They told her tales,
Of war, love, harmony and dreams;
Woven in her mind's eye with imagination
Was now a person waiting for her
To tell their tales to the world,
Things beyond the causes,
That ruined the glorious past
And turned monuments into bricks
And their names are immortal.
© Suranya
The road to my dreams, the story I sought,
Had chanced upon your lane, asking for directions.
You, in turn, gave me a character;
Not to tell a tale, but to keep in my heart as well.
With You, the roads looked longer, conversations meaningful
My purposes were clear, heart rejuvenated.
I did not mind the routes now, I trusted you.
I believed you would lead me to a place, where I would find myself.
I knew You would leave, sooner or later.
You and I were never meant to be.
But I wish the journey could be neverending,
Not wondering what could have been,
What should have been and never will be,
Ever.
~ Suranya
A wounded bird away from its flocks,
On a snowy night right by the dock,
Broken wings, unsure dreams,
Your eyes like beads, of brownish hue,
I found you shivering without a clue.
And without a thought, right or not,
I had offered you a home;
A temporary stay, a guest anyway
You were meant to leave one day.
Yet my heart fluttered like my leaves,
My branches danced, petals showered romance
I hopelessly fell in love with you.
You sang in the springs.
Danced in the rain,
Let the autumn fall make a cosy bed.
And then your migratory friends arrived,
It was time for you to leave me behind.
A story of the past, adventurous and not to last.
You flew away to your flocks.
© Suranya
In the end, all that matters is
Who stays patient in your worst days,
Holds on to your flaws,
And where it all stands
When you don't try to make everything perfect!
© Suranya
If You were the Sunflower, stuck to your roots,
Wishing to soar high, not afraid to lose.
If I were the Sun, carefree and ignorant,
I do what I do, never noticing you.
Then one day, I stopped on my path, it was half past noon
What if I chanced upon you, almost like a boon?
Would I have held on or let you go?
Knowing that your death resides in us, not life?
For you would have seen how I burn, every moment
Every day, giving hope and light, like a candle burning itself
Perhaps you would understand, why we weren't meant to be
Maybe we were the story that never should be.
If I were the Sunflower, stuck to my roots,
You are my sun, miles away in pursuit.
I follow you around from dawn to dusk,
Knowing that you perhaps don't notice me
Doesn't make me regret it much.
I care not for a story to tell, nor for a perfect ending I pray
My love for you is not to impress,
But I will keep trying till you acknowledge.
~ Suranya
Her hopes were chained down by the society that never understood her. The dreams were too big. Her love was too platonic for humans. She decided to make both come true, with hope, faith and perseverance. Rising above the shackles, lowly gossip that entangled her character, she broke free from prejudice. Dreams came true, love reigned the way she hoped it would, in beautifully woven words of the bestseller she penned.
~ Suranya
She spoke of dreams.
She fought for the One.
She crossed hurdles for Love.
But this princess needed no Knight in Shining Armour.
She picked up her sword instead.
She fought the evils no man could.
And she was his Ardhangini.
Shiva's Durga.
- Suranya
It all turned to dust, they always said, that is where it all began for her. The archaeologist removed the dust from the artefact she found. History began from where stories ended. Always.
~ Suranya
I was searching for You
In every person I met,
Every character I read,
Every dream I had.
And I forgot to search within me,
Where You belong.
~ Suranya
Tu chahe toh
Tujhe sara jahan de doon
Par filhaal mere dil se kaam chala le
Mere dil mein tu aise basa hai
Jaise meri jahan hai.
~ Suranya
Remember the soldier, the nation said. I still remember the husband first, smiled the widow.
~ Suranya
Dear Princy, You know how we always get what we actually want. I believe it. I believe to find a home in you. To fight for it. To listen to my heart. I just realized maybe I am not that brave. Maybe you and Home are different. May be you are home. To someone else. I wish you were Mine.
- Suranya
11 Women in Blue Against
"Ladki ho cricket nahi samjhogi."
"Ladki hoke khelna chahti ho?"
"Ladke naam roshan karte ladkiyan nahi."
"Ladki ho ghar samhalna seekho."
"Ladkiyon ka koi haq nahi sapne dekhne ka"
You won over them all.
#BleedBlue
- Suranya
They gasped at the dark sky, which seemed to crash upon the earth with its wrath. But what about the storms that brew inside of us?
~ Suranya
Recognise those faces in the group photo?
They were once your second family.
Now you turn the pages with a frown.
A question on your lips.
"What was that guy's name?"
~ Suranya
Waqt badalta tha pehle, insaan nahi.
Ab Toh Insaan badal jata hai,
Waqt Badalne se pehle.
~ Suranya
For Days and Nights,
Year after Year,
The Sea and Shore,
Played Hide and Seek.
God smiled at their Game
And named it Waves.
~ Suranya
Let Us Be In Love...
Until we discover the real deal.
Until the love turns sour with every flaw.
Until we stop being what we are for each other.
Then we go back to where we started
As strangers who once knew each other
Raw and Uncensored.
~ Suranya
Is love a solution to everything
No. But it is a start!
People often say love is not enough. Its not a solution. No. Its not. But it is a start. To end violence. To establish a good society. To heal a broken soul. And to mend broken relationships. But you need to start by loving yourself first. If you don't accept your flaws, no one else will.
~ Suranya
Would you know me, the real me,
Beneath the skin and body,
In the soul and heart
Would you travel across eras, decades, time
Let your thoughts meet mine in dreams?
To burn together in the scariest feeling.
Yet be happy in peace.
Would you travel the distance, just to see my face?
Would you care to know
All the secrets and pain,
The deceptive smile held?
~ Suranya
I have travelled so far and long.
I have seen countries.
I have encountered people.
I have moved from fort to fort
Forest to forest
And battle to battle.
Somewhere in those battles
In morals, virtues and responsibility
I was lost.
Lost in my path of life.
It was like a vicious circle.
A Chakravyuh I was stuck in.
I earned a name.
I showed them what I am capable of.
Then, I chanced upon you.
In a life full of battles
You are my peace.
In a journey of life
You are my destiny.
In my will and dreams
You are my prayer.
And in my wandering life
You are Home.
I may be hopeful for them.
To you, I will always be the one
Who had cried out his insecurities.
He had doubts about himself.
But then, you smiled.
Your eyes showed a trust no soldier ever did.
And I once again found purpose.
Just that, it was not in victory.
But Love.
~ Suranya
You mirror my soul and thoughts,
Like the transparent sea of water mirrors the sky.
You read my heart like every beat was meant to rhythm yours.
You make me see the world like I've never seen before.
I reflect upon your thought whenever I see the rain pour.
I smile upon the moments you surprisingly unfold.
We debate our views like the clouds clash with thunder.
We respect each other like the mountains and the Sherpas who wander.
You make my days with your meaningful verses.
Maybe you are the guiding light,
To my lost thoughts.
All I know is with you.
I discovered my being all over again!
~ Suranya
I jolt sleepless, twist and turn.
I frown to myself.
Sleep, why don't you come?
I turn on the screen,
It lights up the time.
I check your messages,
DPs and posts,
I see your likes,
On love quotes.
I smile to myself,
Were you thinking of me?
Or perhaps not, I always overthink, you see!
For a moment there,
It didn't matter.
You are my morning alarms,
My wait for the weekends,
My motivation to work.
My weekday mood turner,
And sleepless nights.
As long as you are the muse,
I have the pleasure.
Smiling back at your pic,
I try to go back to sleep.
~ Suranya
Let's stop playing Hide and Seek, I don't seek you anymore.
Let's stop pretending to be weak, I don't fake things anymore.
I have stopped looking for you, in every person around me.
I have stopped hoping for you, and what I want us to be.
You barely make my heart beat now, as I pen down your thoughts.
You never had a face in my imagination, just gestured to tell you apart.
I have seen the world in monochrome, I have seen reality.
I have stopped looking for you because I know,
You are just another character in my story.
Perhaps the muse I sought after, hoping to find in flesh and blood
But I know you are too perfect to be true, in this cruel world.
I may have lost interest but I believe in faith
I trust the God who makes me dream of you.
I trust the feelings of my pen to be true.
It's been a long wait, unfruitful and patient
You gave me some great stories and dreams fulfilled by them.
My brain is tired, my heart lost,
But I realise how hope refuses to die out in them;
One morning I read a line somewhere.
" What You Seek Is Seeking You."
And for a moment, my heart made a leap
For the silly romantic in me, read it as "Who."
~ Suranya
