From The Quill

 Stop saying God will save you  God doesn't save you  You struggle for it yourself  Your belief just gives you the strength to endure. Stop making gods out of men  It demeans their human sacrifices  With divine poetic justice. They suffered, they pained, they were torn  But they had the strength to pick themselves up again.  So will you. © Suranya

Does the Earth smell the same In your corner of the world, After a scorching summer afternoon Makes way for the first rains? Does it distinctly remind you of home? Do you feel calm after a busy day When you watch the droplets Make a pattern on the window pane? Do you remember me Shuddering at the thunder While I muse on the same? . The gale roars but doesn't stop, The breeze plays on my hair As I shudder once again at the sight of lightning. The heart draws me back to you, A moment when the raindrops drenched us Yet the hearts were warm and I could wear it on my sleeves Without a worry of it shattering In your hands. ~ Suranya

 The storm lashed through my city today.  The heat of the moment, building up  Between the Earth and Sky, lovelorn.  It poured as though the Sky was in a hurry  To meet the Earth in petrichor  Thirsty, lashing through the scopes.  In a loud, rebellious protest  The storm marched along the concrete streets  Like a knight invading a city  Claiming what is his. Does the storm take a port of the  Earth with him to the Sky? Does the Sky wash away her pain?  Wanderer as the heart is, never fixed to a place,  Why does she then wait for him this way? © Suranya

 The sound of raindrops on my panes, Haunting wail of puppies in the lane; Existential crisis of mindfulness;  No moon to muse on, no stars shining Only the city is visible in the lightning. Wide awake, not a wink of sleep, On these days, the thoughts run deep; I gather them together in the warm blanket  Carefully hide them away in my emotional casket. The mask of the strong has fallen for the weak,  The rain wipes it off like a magic trick. Slowly, I blend in the waters of heaven,  As it flows upon my cheeks,  And I know for sure that I must endure  In the path that I seek. © Suranya

Ishq e Mareez tha Majnu Dard e dawaan thi Heer Intezaar ki lamha thi Sahiba Aur waqt ko badalne chala tha Farhad. Ab ishq hota hai duniya ko batane ke liye Kabhi pyar milta bhi tha, toh bas bicharne ke liye. ~ Suranya

 You have heard that tale as a kid,  When Aeshop told the story of the  Sly Fox and the Crow. The Fox once praised the Crow;  Its voice was melodious enough  To melt the coldest snow. The Crow was manipulated to lose its meat,  Trying to display its magical feat. Today, the world isn't any different,  Social media illusions: praises and fame. Does the Crow see its potential on its own? Do the lies fed by validation make it lose its course? The sly foxes hide behind innumerable usernames  Follow unfollow a game despicable When do we learn what moral stories teach? Do we ever get out of the circle or drown in the sea? Fox or crow, bunter or hunted, which one are you?  For the curated world to see? © Suranya

It was a decade ago That I wept with my head Silently on the pillow In the empty room On the darkest night. Today, everything is the same. My tears. My agony. My secrets. Only people have changed. Reasons have changed. Do I attract a pattern? Does the same story repeat itself? I don't ask you for anything. Yet now, I am tired. I am tired of waiting. I am tired of my patience. My understanding. My triggers and trauma. I want to move on to better things. I don't want to wait to be happy anymore. I want to witness sunsets and embrace darkness. I want to write about everything I believe in. And this time I choose myself over you. ~ Suranya

Remember that rock upon the valley where we sat? Watching the day turn into dusk, the sun disappearing behind the horizon. Little by little, the stars came out, veiling the night sky like glitter on a dress. You sat half an inch away from me, carefully avoiding contact, of body and eyes. The wind whispered in silence. If not for the flow of the stream that gushed against the rocks on its bed, I would have felt my Sown breath and heart beat. Somehow, this silence was a comforting bliss. A feeling of peace. Like I belonged there, in that moment, with you. Then we walked away, back to our mundane lives, where we belong. Miles away from each other. Just a picture in the heart. The rock still sits there, however, hoping for our reunion. © Suranya