Chaitanya

My heart is that of Radha's 

Longing to reunite with my Beloved.

My soul that of His, 

One and the same, he and I. 

There they sit together 

Witnessing song, dance, and frolick 

Colours that smear the same 

On every skin, 

Rich, poor, class and caste alike.

The red of love, the orange of sacrifice 

The yellow of spring, green of everlasting promises.

And here I am, dancing in a frenzy 

Singing the praises of the Lord 

Who made you and I? 

Would He not grant me a final wish, 

And reveal Himself to me 

As the drums play along?

~ Suranya

Holi is celebrated across India as a day when Krishna confessed his affection for Radha. However, in most parts of East India, especially Odisha and Bengal, this full moon is celebrated as Dol Purnima. Here's why:

Vishambhar Mishra was born in Nabadwip, Nadia, in a commoner's house on the day of Holi in 1486 CE. As he was born under a Neem tree, his nickname (Daak naam) was Nimai. His affection for Krishna and Bhakti grew under the influence of Swami Ishwara Puri, especially after losing his first wife, Lakshmipriya. Finally, at the age of 24, he left home under the guidance of his Guru Swami Kesava Bharati. He left behind his second wife, Bishnupriya, and founded the Gauriya Vaishnavism. It grew into a new cult with followers, where he preached that no priest was needed to worship the Lord. It earned him the name Chaitanya Mahaprabhu, and like many of the Bhakti saints during his time, he also earned the enmity of not only the ruling class and local king (Hussain Khan) but also that of orthodox priests. Nevertheless, to his growing followers who called themselves Vaishnavs, he was believed to be a reincarnation of Radha and Krishna in one body and soul. Jagai and Madhai became his primary disciples. The main form of worship for the Vaishnavs, Kirtan, a song and dance attributed to telling stories and honouring Lord Krishna's Leela, became a popular form of worship across East India. Even today, Kirtan is not only a form of worship but also an art form attributed to the East. Chaitanya travelled across East India and finally settled in Puri, where he mysteriously disappeared in 1534CE. He is believed to have drowned in the sea to become one with God.

Bengalis celebrate the day of Purnima in Falgun as the day of his Abirbhav (arrival) on earth, and hence in Bengal, Holi is known as Dol Purnima. The word Dol Jatra is attributed to the worship of Lord Krishna and Radha on a swing taken around the villages (Jatra means travel) on the day of Holi. Horir Lut (The Loot of Hari) is also an East Indian tradition that comes from this day when Batasha, Murki, Kodma and other offerings are distributed among Bhakts by throwing them into the crowd.

On that note, Subho Dol Purnima, Everyone!

Imperfect

I am the daughter who brought bad grades home. And every time I did, I saw a look of disappointment in my parents' eyes. I am the daughter who made my parents worry about my future. To the world that counts the intelligence of a child by their maths number, I was the stupid, head-in-the-clouds, immature person who cried at the slightest inconvenience. I matured later than my parents expected me to, and I was pretty sure at some point in my clueless life that I could perhaps never make anyone feel proud of me. The complaints were piling up.

But I did, I made myself proud of who I am the most. Everyone else comes after that. I found my way, I stick to my dreams and believe in my ability to fulfil them, maybe not all at once but slowly, gradually and finally. I became independent not by choice but by the way life experiences taught me to be self-reliant is the best way to keep me from expectations and hurt. I go through existential crises, knowing so does everyone else at all ages around me, trying to find meaning and purpose in things beyond our control. None of us has our lives going exactly the way we envisioned, and that is fine; we will figure it out.

© Suranya

Memories

It is weird how selectively our memories work, almost like we remember only impactful parts of dreams. Sometimes, when we remember someone or something, what pops up in our mind as a memory is a fabrication of reality with our imagination or interpretation of the person or event. Retelling of these same stories makes them as real as the present, yet they are not. Most parts are our perspective of a person or place, or event, and if you start sharing, you realise their memories of the same can be different from yours. Perhaps that is why happiness is rare, because when we look back, we only remember the profound moments. We don't try to recollect the unpleasant, the worst days and nightmares, yet they haunt us at our lowest points. But what about the mundane, peaceful days? We fail to appreciate them while they last, because they cause no emotional surge. Yet we crave normalcy and define it as happiness. Imagine if all our days were mundane, we would perhaps be devoid of nostalgia or memories and even nightmares. We chase an idea of happiness while we don't realise when we truly live them in the moment.

© Suranya

Wholesome

"Days pass by as I begin to heal, 

I want to feel whole again."

It's an odd expression, I wonder. 

As I keep my book down, 

My eyes caught a couple 

Sitting hand in hand 

In a corner of the coffee shop.

Why do we feel incomplete 

Without a person or an achievement?

I ponder upon it, staring at my reflection

On the screen of the phone.

I have my whole world. 

Around me, even when I am alone. 

Yet I, too, feel an emptiness engulf me.

Remember when we read about black holes?

How do they consume everything?

Sadness perhaps consumes life. 

Into a dark nothingness.

We begin to put more importance. 

In less important things. 

And before we know it,

The feeling of a void creeps in.

Yet, once you heal

Once you know better,

You will see, all along

You were whole.

Complete.

Filled with everything

The universe is made of.

Particles of hope, faith and love.

~ Suranya

Premika

Aj chal ek adhuri dastaan pura kar lete hai. 

Ek teri ishq mein hum gerua orr lete hai. 

Aj hawayon ka rukh mor dete hai. 

Chal aj thoda jee lete hai.

Tere ishq ka jogan banti firti hoon, 

Duniya se chupake teri sapne bunnti hoon, 

Aasuyon ko tera saya bana leti hoon.

Par ab bohot hua chupna chupana. 

Aj chal subah ke dhoop mein 

Duniya se baya kar deti hoon, 

Prem hai tujhse, sirf tujhse.

Tu hi sach meri, aj tu yeh jaan le. 

Do kadam main chalu, 

Tere ehsaas mein ghar bana loon, 

Aaja aj palko mein tere sapne sawar loon.

© Suranya

Meera Bai, a prominent figure of the Bhakti Movement, identified herself as Lord Krishna's wife. The princess of Merta, married to the crown prince of Mewar Bhojraj, refused to lead the life of a widow after her husband passed away in a battle against Babar. It is widely believed that when she was invited back to Chittorgarh by Rana Udai Singh after his mother Rani Karnavati had asked Meera to leave the capital when her son Vikramaditya, her husband's half-brother, was interested in her, Meera had refused. She disappeared mysteriously at the Dwarka temple on 2nd March, 1542 CE (no historical evidence has been found yet). Years later, on Holi, a festival related to her Lord, Maharana Pratap Singh, her husband's nephew was coronated to the throne of Mewar on 1st March, 1572 CE.