From The Quill

She watched his horse go till the dust settled back on the road. Her eyes shone, but no tear drop fell on her cheeks. There was no time to cry. It was time to prove that Love was the greatest strength. Days passed by, then a week. Many a messenger came and went telling about the progress at the battlefield, but each day her eyes were fixed at the gates, for a letter. A letter addressed to her, minus the seal and title. A letter that called her by the name she had otherwise forgotten. Every night as the stars twinkled, she sat sleepless and stared in the direction of the camp. That's where the sun set every day, almost as a metaphor of the darkness that engulfed her life after he departed. Somewhere in a tent in the camp, he stared at the flickering lamp with a feeling of longing. A will to return to her. Embrace her and feel at home. He could have written a letter, assured her he was fine, but what if she replied? Or worse, the letter reached her late? Long after he was gone? Could...

February 1943, Vienna She always complained about how vague he was with goodbyes. Whether he was coming back in a few hours or in days or weeks, she could never tell. He would walk away as briskly as he did, as if he were going to the market. He laughed at her childish complaints, mostly because there was nothing he could do about them. All his life, he had assumed that having a family would tie him down to more worldly things. He wanted to be free of attachments one way or another. But who knew what fate had in store for him when she walked in through his office door with her innocent eyes and smiling face. In a life of war, she was when he truly felt at peace. He picked up his hat as the radio chattered on about the impending wars and damage of last night's air strikes. She was nurturing the baby close to her bosom, smiling down at her sleeping figure and whispering her name into her ears. The sense of being watched made her look up at him as he smiled, almost sheepishly, like a...

 I saw you make rings of smoke  Of the cigarette you lit as we lay together.  Your hand felt sweaty in mine  You shrugged it off, complaining about the summer.  I stared at my empty finger as the ring you made  Disappeared into thin air just like promises.  That was the moment I felt suffocated with you.  And it had nothing to do with the smoking. Did our story begin somewhere?  Or did it end in a whelm?  Did we know the date or time  We promised that everything would be the same  Or the exact moment we fell out of love?  Was it a mere habit or just the pain of separation  That kept us together all this time?  Were we ever in "love" with each other  Or we were simply the easiest option  Not to feel lonely at night;  To be emotionally validated or even  Pretending to be cared for? All I know now is that, with sunrise  I have to pick up my clothes and bid you goodbye  And as I do, I wi...

"What's so scary about Friday the 13th? So cliché." He murmured, seeing an advertisement in his co-passenger's newspaper. "All mumbo jumbo fed for commerce." The man smiled at his words. "They say spirits roam free on this day." He frowned at the man. "Have you ever seen one? Seeing is believing, sir. All these legends are only to scare people. Spirits don't exist." His co-passenger shrugged and got back to his newspaper, in no mood for a conversation, covering his view from the man on his left. The bus stopped at his designated bus stop. And he got down without sharing more pleasantries with the man, still reading the afternoon news. His co-passenger didn't look up. If he did, then perhaps he would have noticed how he got down, without waiting for the door to slide open. © Suranya

 I told the moon a secret,  In trickling pearl drops  And words of regret  That formed the clouds above.  The grey clouds took my tale to the sea,  Who told the river my silent plea?  In turn, the mountains knew my plight,  And the stars smiled upon me at night.  Now the entire universe knows my story  Except you,  Who should have known truly. © Suranya

 Sleepless I lay awake in bed,  Gazing upon the moon and stars,  My cheeks are warm and wet,  As I look for You in my scars.  I stand atop the mountain cliff,  The gentle breeze passes by,  Upon sunsets that make my heart leap,  And feel the magic this universe hides. I wait on every breath and beat,  Where are you, hidden beneath  The toughest face or sharpest mind, The kind of love I wait upon,  The Love that is of forever kind? © Suranya