From The Quill of Suranya

"This tastes funny." He made a face at the now cold cup of tea. "Yes." She agreed with a slight giggle. "You added salt instead of sugar." "Why did you drink it then?" He asked, surprised, staring at her empty cup. She smiled. "Because it's the first cup of tea you made for me. It's the sweetest cuppa I've ever had." "Ew. Mushy." He shook his head with a silly smile that made her laugh her heart out. He fell a bit more in love that day. © Suranya

The evening sun was as red as vermilion, reflecting upon the white marble of the Taj. Janni sat in prayer, in silence and fear. He stared at her prayer with a faint smile. Today was probably the beginning of a journey to forever. From the moment she dared to lift her veil and stare him in the eyes, Chhatrasal knew something had changed. Hearts transformed. He was leaving for a war, both knew was a lost cause. Yet a hope in their heart refused to go. For as the moon made its way to wipe away the red hues over the white marble, making the Taj shine like a diamond drop, he had held her hand and promised to wait for her on the other side. She had smiled in her tears, promising him the same. The other side was uncertain. Unexplored. Yet, he was not scared. For he knew that there, they were just two souls, beyond name and identity, not a king, princess, religion, caste or creed. They were equal and one. The Almighty didn't judge his children. For their love for each other. It would perha...

The tourists had dispersed; the ASI officer checked every nook and corner of the premises and shut the door of the wonder in marble. It was another moonlit night. He smiled, swaying the large set of keys on his way out of the premises. One of those nights, when the Taj looked absolutely like heaven was imagined to be. The silence of the place was filled with the rustling of leaves, and the moon shone on the marble tomb like a radiant pearl. In the distance, on the opposite bank, stood the Agra Fort. The marble of the palanquin-shaped roof shone as well. And the moonlight entered through the jharokha, creating a design of flowers and leaves on the marble floor of the secluded fort. The breeze blew again. Cool and silent. Somewhere far away, the fading music of a mosque was heard. The Taj resonated with what were perhaps footsteps. She turned to see him arrive. White as the moon, his attire shone just like hers. Eyes met, and they smiled. It was a night of union, of two souls who were fo...

The waves crashed onto the sand. Again. And again. She sat there, eyes closed. Inhaling the cool breeze that brushed past her open hair playfully, she watched the waves come to her feet, touch her and leave. The wind whispered undecipherable words in her ears. She saw the wet sand and scribbled her name on it. The waves washed it away in a flash. A smile appeared on her lips. Perhaps, like the waves washed away her name, people are also wiped from existence. It's so strange that sometimes you have to accept that the closest people are not close anymore, and a stranger can be closer than you ever imagined. She got up and brushed off some sand from her dress, and started walking towards the lighthouse in the distance. People were like these waves. They came and went. As and when needed. Her existence was her only truth. The sole constant. Not even the name stayed forever. She sighed at the ring on her finger. She was not optimistic about Love. It was like these waves. A chase game go...

The news had spread like wildfire. The crown prince did what his people never thought he would. He had rebelled against his incompetent father. Not for the kingdom or the power. But for a girl. He had stood against the family he had never raised his voice against. For the Samant Putri. When the biggest of states wanted an alliance with him, he chose to love a girl who touched his soul like no other. The boundaries of class and status meant nothing to him. He had treated her as an equal. While some expressed disgust at his sudden change of attitude, blaming the girl, some witnessed the warrior in love. Some saw a strong, opinionated leader being born. His mother smiled, knowing her love had done what the mother always wanted. Taught her son to rebel for the right reasons. Perhaps she was the path to his glory. The direction of his success. She was his first rebellion. Love, his first reason. Not the last. ~ Suranya

His heart still thumped every time he saw her waiting at the steps. Her cheeks still blushed every time he searched the crowd of women for her. Twenty years. It was just a number. The beginning of a journey to eternity for their life. friendship and sacrifices. And a Love immortal. ~ Suranya

He had done what he had never done in his life. Dropped straight at her house and proposed marriage. Pratap was not very optimistic when it came to love. Yet, he had taken a chance. The moment he had seen the best friend of the sister of the bride at the engagement ceremony, he had walked up to her to strike up a conversation. Ajabdeh Punwar was an awkward soul. She talked of things beyond his understanding. And that is why he found her magical. A mystery that will perhaps take a lifetime to solve. He had the longest conversation with a girl since his last relationship. He listened to her as her eyes sparkled like the universe was hidden inside her with all its mysteries. He had done the most impulsive thing ever. Dropped her off at her house. And when her parents were at the door, he had proposed marriage. It was inevitable that they were shocked. And Ajabdeh's eyes were angry. Disappointed perhaps. Did he come across as needy? He didn't care. He had urged his parents into a c...

Cleaning the Attic, I found Grandma's old trunk. She smiled at it before carefully checking through the contents. There was a brown paper envelope, almost on the verge of tearing away, placed neatly among other things. And in it was a stack of yellow papers. Small rectangular ones with fountain pen ink stains on them. She smiled, moving her trembling hands over them. In affection and love. Letters from Grandpa while he was away at work. She would wait for months to hear from him. Sometimes three, sometimes five. Grandpa would travel miles from his workplace to the town to post the letters. The red post box was his way of letting her know that she was being remembered and missed. Some of the letters arrived on time. Some were lost in transit. He then waited patiently for a reply that arrived a month later. Or maybe two. Depending on when Grandma could manage to lure his nephew to the post office by the promise of some sweetmeat or laddoos. In those days, the ladies barely stepped ou...

He had kept down the key and stared at her eyes one last time. She chose to look away. He smiled faintly, shook his head, and walked out with a small bag. She had slammed the door shut behind him noisily. He pressed the button on the elevator and tapped his shoes on the marble floor. It echoed through the empty corridor, and the lift arrived. He thanked heaven it's empty for he won't be able to explain to the neighbours that his wife threw him out in the middle of the night, because he asked How?" to her, "We are pregnant." A sudden replay of the scene made him laugh at himself. He had taken out the car key, hoping one of his friends would be awake for a drink, and his phone beeped. "Stay." He looked up in a reflex at the window of the apartment where she stood, moving away carefully behind the curtains as he smiled. Her phone beeped with "Always" before the doorbell rang. ~ SURANYA

He was in no hurry to leave the office. It was around an hour past his normal time that he decided to go home. Turning the keys to his bike, he rode home at a moderate speed. Climbing the stairs up to his fourth-floor apartment slowly, he turned the keys at the door. The empty, dark apartment greeted him instead of the one that smelled of coffee and cocoa butter cream. Silence filled the room as he kept the keys on the table beside the frame. He stared at the frame for a moment. Should he call? What would she think? She had gone only for a day, and he couldn't possibly have any valid reason to call her. She was so happy when she left for home. Her smiling face flashed in his mind. He had dropped her off at her parents' place for the weekend. Coming back to the apartment, he had realised how much he was getting used to having her around in the past few months. She must be enjoying her stay. He had wondered. And dropped the idea of calling her. Twice. He settled down on the sofa ...