From The Quill of Suranya

She frowned eagerly as something reached her hand A dried seed, she stared in awe. Across the river, there was a crowd The man in meditation wore garlands of it. Who was He? Long locks, falling over his shoulder, his body smeared in ashes, A face so calm and expressionless, almost like a foreigner to feelings He seemed to come from beyond the mountains. Tribal attire, posture of glow and grace She stared mesmerised at his face. He looked up at the delicate one, who dared to chant His name At the palace that treated him like a nomad, he was now God. She chanted His name like she owned Him; a shiver ran down His spine.  Young and gentle, in meditation; she was a princess so divine. Rich clothes, materialistic life, she was brave enough to look beyond Her warrior-heart chose Him. He taught her soul searching, she sought her purpose in life, He smiled in composure and hidden pain for The Timeless knew the future. Even He was not beyond Fate, still He called her His. Love was such a twi...

How can I make people believe in something If I don't see it myself? How can I make people have faith, in the purest form of Love When it seems absent around me? I fold my hands in prayer before you, "Show me a way, to make my purposes true." You smile at me, in your calmness A moment of silence passes by, I stare with bated breath waiting, A question comes to mind. Was I being too selfish here?  Was I asking for things beyond my fate? My devotion to You was never selfish, I took pride in my faith. The silence broke in a very usual way, with a notification pop on my phone. I finish my prayers, hoping You would answer me,  With all the trust I have in You. With that, I checked my phone. Someone had asked me an eager question, What was the love You shared with Her like? It did not last, yet again You found Her For eternity and beyond. There was a sudden shiver down my spine, I smiled in realisation, knowing that was You. Of course, what I believe in exists, maybe not around...

 She burnt in rage, the fire engulfed her soul. Her body was ablaze, with the guilt that broke An audience stood in awe, as the smoke rose. Cries and wails of her mother and sisters The soul formed a shape, with a thousand hands Three eyes shining, vermillion fiery red Everyone froze as her calm face spoke In a voice of power, echoing cold and wise, "Maybe in another life, in another time, I will have the strength to fight for you To be fit for you, to complete us." She lay lifeless as everyone gasped. Her voice reached his ears, enraged he stood Losing Himself in love and loss The dance of destruction burnt His heart. Years passed by and a sixteen-year-old, Stood in front of a Yogi, wise and old One who had lost His worldly longings She folded her hands, pleading: "Accept me for who I am and You will see, I am strong enough to hold on, To fight for us, to choose you against all odds." He opened His eyes, and His heart skipped a beat, For before Him stood, the wife ...

 Dancing in His glory tonight, Is the Blue-Necked Man. His rhythm makes the oceans create waves, His Dumru creates the roar of thunder. There He is, smiling like a lightning That hit my heart like an arrow of Kama. I drench in his love like the earth quenched, Waiting for the rain in summer. His hair sways like the floating grey clouds, There He is, the one who destroys all the sin in me. He moves to the beat of music, That aches my heart with longing and pain. I, the Princess of the Mountain,  Find myself yearning in tears and smile. This may just be rain to you, O innocent human. To me, this is His Love, chosen carefully With letters from Nature, Carefully scribing His feelings. To me, this rain is divine. Once I was a child, naive and ordinary, I knew not the word for what I felt. Yet I was smitten by the ash-smeared Man. Today, a maiden of sixteen, Gauri waits Daring to call my emotions, Love. Tonight, sleepless as I am, Restless for his words of approval; Prakriti answer...

 In the darkness of the night,  I travel through time,  And meet you at Eternity.  I walk across the mountains,  Of the Abode you call home.  I explore. I live. I love.  I liberate my soul of a thousand emotions. At dawn I wake,  With a smile on my lips.  And tears in my eyes.  You save me.  Every time I fall  You enlighten me  When darkness engulfs.  You make me live, With every breath.  You are in everything and nothing.  Yet they seek you in Temples and idols. But you are in Nature.  The Soul is Your Shrine.  You are Love, and the Lover. God and Devotee. Science and Belief. You are them.  You are Me. © Suranya

In a land of warriors, of battles, scars and deaths, she spoke of love. Love in the purest forms. Of platonic ways and breaking barriers of society. She pined for love. For some, she seemed mad. Others called her a goddess. Some said she was lonely. A widow at such a young age. Most flocked to hear her sing. She sang praises. Songs of love. Of hardship. And sacrifices. She found life in him. Solace in him. She found the life she always sought. Wearing a saffron attire, she danced in her own world. She smiled and talked to the idol. In his prayers and praises, she found the love she sought. Because we have enough love in us to last a lifetime without it. She was proof of that. People call her Girdhar's Meera. The princess of Merta, the Kunwarani of Chittorgarh, was best known as the saint poetress. Lost in the love of unearthly feelings. The life she wanted beyond the glory of royalty was always Him.

She had chosen the fire altar, her self-respect before her father's pride. The mute spectators saw her walk up to the Havan Kund, in her fury, as her father ignorantly continued to hurl abuses at the one who remained in her heart. The greatest of the men was scared by the hurt in her eyes. Her black hair darkening the day as it flew in the gust of wind, her red vermilion as powerful as a thousand Suns, she had smiled at the crowd sarcastically. Cursed them all for their silence. And she had for once thought of him. The one who was part of her soul. How will he survive? Her death would devastate him. But her self-respect didn't let her love come in the way. Her soul was now impure with the insults her father had hurled at him. This soul deserved no life. So before jumping into the altar, she had stared up towards the North. Towards Home. And she made a promise. In another life. In another time. Perhaps. But she will always come back. To him. For him. Because she would always be ...

Up in the snow-clad Himalayas, a Yogi sat. Turning away from life and all its emotions and attachments. He had lost love once. He took it as his own fault. He was cursed to be alone and serve the people and his purpose. He had sworn that no woman would again affect him as his beloved, innocent Sati did. Sixteen-year-old Gauri was adamant. About the only man she loved and chose to marry. Her soul was his. Before this birth and after it. She had always been his. How could he not accept her? She had started the hardest penance to get his love. After all, his was the best love any girl could dream of, with respect, loyalty and dedication. She had made it clear that love was always undergoing tests. And it's an age-old tradition of pain and separation attached to Love. But that love is true and wins over every hurdle, if they don't give in and quit. Love can be separated, not lost. Love sometimes needs to be won. And fought for. Held on to. She is hopeful that one day he will be com...

She spoke of dreams. She fought for the One. She crossed hurdles for Love. But this princess needed no Knight in Shining Armour. She picked up her sword instead. She fought the evils no man could. And she was his Ardhangini. Shiva's Durga. - Suranya