Stalker

 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

Dear Fictional Man

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

Fire God

 The fire has its own magic.

It stands witness to the greatest oaths.

It stands witness to the greatest vows.

Always hungry, always angry,

It engulfs everything that comes its way.

It is calmed only by Swaha,

Daughter of the Prajapati,

Granddaughter of Brahma.

To control him, she is summoned.

With Agni, we always join Swaha.

The fire has its own magic.

It burns away memories, good and bad.

It burns away bodies full of sins.

It releases the soul from within.

With its destruction, new worlds are created.

With its help, man learned skills.

Of food and alloys.

Cooking and bending metals.

Ruling the world with cuisine and weapons.

The fire has its own magic.

Coz it burns within you and me.

Our thoughts and opinions burn.

As raging as it should be.

To those who stir that fire,

Their souls become greater than the body.

And fire thus could not touch their souls.

Immortals become heroes.

The fire has its own magic.

One is born from it.

Another perished in it.

It is that taker who takes everything and everyone.

It took away Shiva's Sati.

It is a giver.

Its gift is most precious and priceless.

It gives ashes.

The same ashes that heal and bless.

With the forgiving eyes of Lord Shiva.

The fire has its own magic.

Man makes it.

But Man himself fears it.

~ Suranya

Karma & Dharma

In simple terms, Karma and Dharma are two sides of the same coin. Dharma is the path we follow, our virtues, morals, rules and limitations. The righteous ways that make up the character of a man. Dharma to one is relative and personal in nature. Your morals, values and religious beliefs are built in you through knowledge, awareness and influence. Dharma is the guide.

Karma is the work and effect of Dharma. How you work, how you find and fulfil your purposes through the guidelines of Dharma is your Karma. Karma is often predefined by fate, but can be changed by destiny and determination. Your Karma defines your future, builds it the way you act and behave today. Hence is the popular belief that Karma always gets back at you, without fail. Doing good can be a difficult but happy road. Our ultimate Dharma is to stand by the ones who seek help. You may know a skill, an idea, knowledge or a trade. Dharma says you must teach them that if they ask for it. Dharma also says never expect something back in return for helping someone. Karma says Find your purpose and work towards it. Purpose should not be personal. It should be more for welfare and awareness. The purpose of life should always be for the greater good. Karma and purpose: how you work towards them define your future. And dharma and karma together define who you are. That is the ultimate religion. And love is a motivator. Your love towards Dharma acts towards Karma. Dharma and Karma are partners. Much like the partners we seek in life.

~ Suranya

Naam

 Badal chumti imaratein to kayi Raja o ne hai banayi

Kabhi koi aisa bhi tha jiska swabhimaan badal chumta tha.

Naam reh gaya uska, baakiyon ke bas imaratein reh gayi.

~ Suranya

Her Faith

The battleground had rumours. Some said the Mughals killed him. Some said he escaped, and two soldiers were missing from the Mughal camp as well. The news had reached the forests near Kelwara. The Queen consort broke the gasping silence. Nothing had happened to him. A message was firm and clear. It was a ray of hope to his queens and children. As well as subjects. All was not lost. Her heart thumped nervously. She said a soft prayer in silence. The sound of hooves alerted them. A horse was carrying someone towards them. Unconscious and blood-soaked. Someone shouted, "Ranaji." She rushed to his side. His breaths were very minimal. He managed to open his eyes at her touch.

" Ajab... Chetak!" He managed before fainting again. It took him months to recover in the hideout. From the wounds of the body and heart. From the loss of a companion. She held his hand to heal him. 

Mughal rumours flew that he was dead and Amar Singh was fighting in his name. He used the rumours to win back some major camps under his son's name, using guerrilla warfare. It was not until four years later that the Mughals realised he was alive, and they imprisoned his brother Shakti for helping him escape.

~ Suranya

I'm In Lust With You

 The water of the shower trickled down my hot, burning skin like waterfalls on the sides of cliffs. The cold water met the body of burning desires, causing goosebumps of ecstasy and calming down a racing heart. I closed my eyes to feel the sound of droplets dripping down my earlobes onto the naked skin.

There was a certain music to it. A certain peace that took me back to emotions less visited. Desires unfulfilled. In the darkness that surrounded me, I visualised you.

There you are. A figure. Blurred. In the light and shadow of the night. In the foggy feel of the heavy rain that fell, much like the shower I stood beneath. Only its music is different from the shower. It's more liberal. Free. And beautiful. For the raindrops touch the earth. The leaves. And the waters of the lake. Just not my body or yours. I see your eyes sparkle. Your deep, dark brown eyes. That conveys a thousand emotions. Do not stare at the clothes hugging my figure in the rain. But into my eyes. You come closer, and my heart races. You stop where in the cold air around me, I can still feel your warm breath. There is no turning back from here. A strange feeling of excitement and fear grips me.

I opened my eyes and found myself beneath the shower. I smiled at your thought. My body is still burning with the kind of desire you ignited in me. To feel you. Touch you. Caress every inch of your skin. I am in Lust with you. The kind of Lust that makes me cry in completeness every time your fingers touch my skin. The kind of Lust that makes me feel wanted, needed and desired. The kind of Lust that makes me feel sexy without even trying. The kind that doesn't tag me fat or ugly. The kind of Lust that makes your eyes travel to my lips and back to my eyes to make me blush. Yes, I am in lust with you. For we are mere humans, and our love is more often than not, merged with our attraction, sexual needs and desires. Lust merges with love sometimes, to complete it in ways love itself is incompetent to.

© Suranya

Fear

What is your greatest fear?

To remember you, while you forget me.

~ Suranya

Child Labour

The tiny fingers were meant to hold crayons...

Sadly, they held brooms instead.

~ Suranya