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Sunday, December 29, 2024

Inspiration

Whenever Life gets tough

I seek solace in people of the past.

People who mark their lives

In pages of History.

With their blood, sweat and sacrifice.

I tell myself, "They had it worse,

You can survive this."

Lift myself up because who will,

If not me?

I treat life's obstacles,

As minor inconveniences,

Because they taught me

Life could be way worse.


I wait for things that never happen

Put my faith in fate's cruel play

I often wonder what life was like

For all those immortals

In the pages of novels.

They fought all odds,

Wins and Losses

And emerged from the battles of life

So why can't I?

I read their stories with hope and belief

That everything in the end seems fine.

~ Suranya



Saturday, December 21, 2024

What I read vs what I write

Recently, someone asked me about Book Recommendations, and I realised the kind of books I read is very different from the kind of stories I write. It's a conscious decision not to read the same genre of fiction because often your favourite writer's style and words effortlessly and subconsciously creep into your writing and ideas, and you lose your individuality. But more than that, I honestly enjoy writing the genres I write, especially Romance, more than reading them.

Perhaps because through the process I also discover their stories and journey. I never plan a story or its theme and let the words flow. Often, the story ends up being utterly different from what I intend it to be. But it's their journey, I let the characters speak to me.

This December, when the deadly combination of Writer's Block and sickness attacked me between two long-pending drafts, I found it hard to relax. It felt like the characters were waiting for their Stories to be told, and they were just staring at me like the blinking cursor on my laptop, hoping I would get back to them soon. That is when I started rereading most of my favourite fiction and non-fiction. I realise I was always more of a non-fiction reader than fiction, and "normal" stories are not my forte when it comes to me as a reader. Perhaps that is why I am attracted to the kind of stories I read, the poems that have my heart, and the non-fiction I make note of.

History has always been my favourite subject, especially medieval history, which, to a layman like me, is easiest to dig into. So it's no surprise that whenever imagination is at stake, I turn to harsh realities, wars, struggles, love and loss. History to me is a reminder that happy endings aren't really a thing, either you get what you want and it destroys you, or you chase what you dream of and let it burn you. Women in particular, their struggles through the ages serve as a reminder to be grateful for the basic things our tribe, women before us, dreamt of. I am a big criticiser self self-help books, I usually know what they say, they never impress me with new information, and lately have been inclined towards true crime and behavioural sciences.

As for fiction, which most of you want recommendations on, I would say I find joy in reading real, mundane, often tragic and taboo stories. December made me go through some of my favourites, Hungry Tide and the destructive beauty of nature that affects life daily in places most people are unaware of, Cuckold and its beautiful descriptions of Love, in its layers of complexities, Layli Majnun and Sufi Poetry that speaks of oneness with God, The Tomb of Sand and the relationship between an aging parent and a daughter, Whereabouts and a mid 30s single woman's journey through mundane bits of life. Fictional retelling of stories of rebellion and women. None of these subjects would perhaps ever find a place in my stories, I feel I am too unworthy to touch on what really matters personally to me. Yet, every story I read, every piece of the world I explore through books, somehow finds its way into the person I am and hence, the stories I tell.



Friday, December 20, 2024

Count the Blessings

Some days you don't feel like getting out of bed, you want sickness to engulf you, finding comfort in the fact that it will help you rest, yet it doesn't. A sore throat makes you restless, and everything you planned goes haywire. You don't like the music you otherwise groove to, you can't write a sentence without hating yourself, you can't look at the mirror without self-criticism, watching anything feels irking, and you have no idea what will make you feel better. You try everything from self-pampering to pep-talk and often try to find some comfort in people who you think understand you. Yet, you oddly find them irking too. On these days, take a step back, stop being harsh on yourself and be grateful you got through yet another bad day, keeping your darkest thoughts at bay.

© Suranya



Thursday, December 19, 2024

Outcast Love

The crowd parted, and I saw you again. 

After how many years? I need not remember.

Your hair has a hint of grey, your smile

Now form lines under your eyes.

You spot me, and your smile fades.

What is it that I see in your eyes?

Regret? Pity? Perhaps admiration.

Someone introduces us again.

Your job title changed, 

As did my surname.

He jokes that I write about lost love 

Despite having everything I ever dreamt of.

You look at me with a weary smile. 

I pretend not to recognise you.

We greet each other in single syllables.

He leaves us alone in awkward silence 

Amidst a crowd chattering and mingling

We draw our eyes away, then stare back.

~ Suranya



Wednesday, December 11, 2024

Your Realms

I walk through the arches of the past 

Seeking You in the little traces that last 

Of Your existence beyond books.

Of stories of Bards, that history refuses to tell 

I look for You in mirrors and reflections 

Within my soul and contemplation 

And what troubles me is to know 

That You never knew me.

I look beyond Your bravery and might 

At everything the man dreamt of at that time 

And I ask the Dyers of Dreams 

To colour my life in Your name.

I am obsessed, possessed, beyond repair. 

Seeking answers in despair 

My soul refuses to stay put here 

In an era far beyond Yours.

~ Suranya



Tuesday, December 10, 2024

Heart's Desire

You walk towards me 

As light as a feather 

As radiant as the morning sun 

As promising as hope. 

You stop as if to admire 

A flower or a butterfly over it. 

I am mesmerized by your innocence 

Captivated by your smile 

And I often wonder, 

Is a soul as impure as mine, 

Bathed in blood of dozens 

Worthy of you, My Princess?


Your horse gallops through the fort 

People bow in respect 

You understand them 

Even when you watch from afar 

Like a God they worship 

Up in a pedestal above all. 

Stories of your valour 

Are retold to children 

As they idolise you. 

And I, secretly blush and beam 

In a pride only I know, 

For I know the prince they admire 

Is the man who chose me, 

Scars and flaws and all.

~Suranya



Wednesday, December 4, 2024

Karmic

What if I told you this is not the end?

You see, with some people. 

It's a loop, rather than a straight line.

You meet, you leave, but you can't escape. 

What if I told you, we haven't met here

But before we were, after we will be 

In some other name, at some other place?

What if you realise we are a boon 

And a curse, in a maze 

We keep running around.

What do I make of this longing 

The way I feel like lingering, 

In your presence 

And lamenting your absence.

The way our skins touch 

Sparks fly, it's not fireworks 

But a whole show of lights! 

What if I make you wonder, 

What are we? Why are we here?

Finding our way back to each other 

Every time we decide not to.

All I can say is, "I will be your first heartbreak 

Be my first love?"

~ Suranya