From The Quill of Suranya

 The breeze in the summer noon  Memories, almost like a boon  Smiling at them on the lawn,  Her little man in a crispy shirt,  Her princess in a dancing frock. Days like that were long gone. They had moved on chasing dreams,  As she stood there in anticipation,  Home was now just for vacations.  "Once in a while, come back to me." Her voicemails remained unanswered. Irony how unlike everyday  A message was sent on WhatsApp. "Happy Mother's Day" A picture uploaded for likes and hearts,  But where was the love she once felt in their hugs? ~ Suranya

She arrived home tired after a series of interviews. Turning the keys, she sighed, putting down the files. Another day back to the empty apartment. The rooms felt cold. The silence was killing. She checked the refrigerator and found just some leftover juice and stale bread. Dialling the app, she ordered Pizza. Tossing away the coat and scarf, she lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Closing her eyes, she breathed in. The doorbell rang, and she frowned. Such prompt delivery? The door opened to his familiar face and smile. "How was your day?" He'd asked. With a lingering smile, she hugged him. The lonely, cold apartment felt warm all of a sudden. All she needed was her best friend to ask a simple question to make her day. ~ Suranya

To the man I call my father, Remember how you complained about Maasa having an opinion of her own? Remember all those times you came home drunk? Or abused Maasa? I hid behind the door and watched you, horrified. I had silently caressed her bruises. She had smiled, hiding tears. Remember all those school functions you missed? All the awards of mine you broke in your fit of rage, mixed with the intoxication of whatever you took? And all the time you cursed me because I did Mom's house chores? How you taunted me, saying I would end up being a house husband. How you taunted, my career decision. All the criticism you had when I raised my voice against marital rape? Was that your encouragement? I am obliged. All the time, I had been jealous of my friends who had fathers like friends. Often, I read quotes on how a girl wants a guy like her father. And I shudder at the mere idea of it. I don't want that for Munni. She is just like Maasa, warm and gentle. You made me hate men, being a m...

Some stories began with "I Love You." While some ended with it. ~ Suranya