From The Quill of Suranya

When an expressive woman is calm, it's not because she changed. It's because she realised that nobody will understand her anger or sadness. She chooses her peace of mind over her expectations from people. ~ Suranya

I have no words to say That I miss you. Except that when I do The music starts sounding A little monotonous  The winter becomes a little More foggy and polluted. My imagination finds no words,  And life has a little less meaning,  Until I find you again. ~ Suranya

The child who promised his mother he would be home soon, the woman whose aged parents were waiting for her return, the activist whose wife had pleaded with him not to go that morning, the clueless merrymakers roaming the gardens; people. Old, young, clueless, unnamed. They didn't deserve it. Yet here we are, a hundred years later, still comprehending thousands of massacres, thousands of deaths, and several families destroyed. For the borders. For the ego of a nation that thought the sun never set on them. For humanity's loop of violence. Suranya.

Nazariyaan alag ho  Toh zarurat nahi ke koi galat ho. Perspective can be different  Not necessarily wrong. © Suranya

As long as Hope stands, Faith lives. So does your Fairytale. ~ Suranya

The deepest secrets of your heart,  Are usually the things You don't even admit to yourself. ~ Suranya

How is your home? I am still looking for it. ~ Suranya

Some things linger on even after they are over. From the smell of the incense in the peace of the Pandal, which reminded us of all the Pujas that had gone by, making us nostalgic about our childhood and cap guns, to the smell of perhaps that one perfume that reminds us of someone we knew. Then there is the sweet smell of the seasonal flowers that bloom in the autumn, or perhaps a hug from mom that feels like home. Then there is the smell of Biriyani. The one thing that reminds you to screw your diet and will to look good, for five days a year. But then you know it's all over, and you are back to the usual routine of rat race and monotony. But somewhere you still pine for that feeling that seems to be gone too soon. The vibes of positivity and happiness that we wait for throughout the year. Can't we just be that happy all through the year? But then, perhaps we would forget to cherish these precious days. ~ Suranya

Stories reincarnate themselves; with time, they refuse to perish. Instead, they change forms. From the wise men who once told tales, to the handwritten books and printed texts, audios, ebooks and visuals, Motion pictures and animation. Stories don't die. They always find a way to reach your heart. ~ Suranya

Lost in the universe in specs of dust  Lies stories of the ancient past.  Or perhaps the secrets of the future it holds While the mysteries of Chaos it unfolds. ~ Suranya

EVERYTHING GOOD OR BAD ENDS SOMEDAY. SOME SLIP INTO OBLIVION. SOME SERVE AS REMINDERS IN HISTORY. ~ Suranya

HISTORY MEANS TO PRESERVE WHAT ONCE WAS. NOT TO RECREATE IT. ~ Suranya

FEMINISM IS ABOUT EQUALITY, NOT HATING MEN. EQUALITY IS ABOUT SHARING AND PARTNERSHIPS. NOT ABOUT WHOSE PHYSICAL STRENGTH IS GREATER. ~ Suranya

HALF KNOWLEDGE AND FULL OPINION IS  MORE HARMFUL THAN A PANDEMIC. ~ Suranya

UNPOPULAR OPINION, WIKIPEDIA AND GOOGLE ARE NOT HISTORY BOOKS. ~ Suranya

 Life is the teacher as well as the lesson ~ Suranya

My ash will turn into stardust, floating in the universe, watching you from afar, sending you wishes from the shooting star. ~ SURANYA

P ut under house arrest A s death looms by R arely has the world seen A ny of these sights: N ot knowing the future O verwhelmed at the present I nteresting how man-made boundaries A ll perish with them. ~ Suranya

He smeared the Beloved In colours of red, While She looked for Him In saffron instead. ~ SURANYA

"To someone somewhere, who can look into my eyes as an endless universe of mystery and possibilities, exactly the way I will look into his, let's write a story beyond time, place and existence. Where you are you, and you are me, I am you, and I am more than me. Let's dance around in a merry loop of time travel through star dust and moon light, to tell and retell our story time and again to the world, which often forgets, History repeats itself." ~ SURANYA