From The Quill of Suranya

 Wreaths of rhododendrons in honour of the brave,  Smell of jasmine, rose petal sprinklers in the celebration;  But the sweetest smell that surpassed these was  That of your soft Heena-painted hands. Drums and horns of celebration across the land,  Singers and dancers at court till the wine poured late,  Yet the most beautiful of music was  Of your anklets' tinkle in the echoes of the palace.  A monument of marble, a fort conquered far beyond.  But home for my wandering heart  Remained your open courtyard.  A royal title, a guard of honour, a sword  Yet your letters were still my greatest reward:  A rule laid, fate separated,  Your heart remained the rebel, as did mine.  I painted your image in a corner of my room,  As you left an everlasting imprint on my heart. The gust of wind blew,  It travelled across the plains,  Over the hills of the Aravallis.  It brought me a tint of dust from your so...

 Alone on a bench in a park, she sat,  Staring at the couples on the picnic mats. Children playing in the lawns, She spotted a man all alone.  Shook her head in a disapproving glance  She should never have taken the chance.  "One human? Ill omen", She shrugged, flapping her wings,  She flew away from the scene. © Suranya

 In a frolic of hide and seek,  You remain hidden from me tonight;  O Guiding Star,  Unseen in the darkness like a shadow,  You perhaps appear with light.  Oh, how I desire to see you.  I weep over thee  Like I would for a near one. I feel restless to feel warm again.  But tonight you seem like a stranger to me. Cold, like a distant dream perhaps,  You walked away tonight  And took my dreams with you. Perhaps that is why sleep refuses me tonight. My salty tears turn themselves.  Into waves of turbulent questions  Over my mere existence and purpose. Who am I? What am I?  Without an identity or purpose? © Suranya

And yet another day passes by, and I realise that I feel less and less. For everything around me. My existence is at stake. My humanity is in question. I can't come to terms with the fact that I can't be understood, I can't be heard. My silences are killing me, as a part of my heart learns to unlearn everything it once learned and detach from what hurts and a part of my mind feeds it with logic. Why is it the right thing to do? And then there is my soul. It eats away dreams, piece by piece, trying hard not to think of all the things it once deemed true. © Suranya

There was a certain beauty in the forests. The rustling of leaves. The birds are chirping. The moon shone in its crescent shape, and the stars were slowly becoming visible as the sky grew a shade darker. She parted the curtains of the caravan. The light of a torch was visible at a distance. The dusk had just set in, and they were almost there. Or so she was told. On any other normal day, she would have noticed the rustling of leaves or admired a bird's song. But today was not any other day. Rumours were flying. She was summoned immediately to this hideout after ten days of the war and waiting. She had travelled alone, leaving the family behind in the Bhil village where they had set up camp. Her heart beat increased. Was it bad news? She said a soft prayer as the caravan stopped. Ranima." She heard her son outside the curtains. Come with me". The curtain parted, and her teary eyes met his disappointed face. "Where is he?" He had barely managed to point at the cav...

 I walk through the busiest parts of Purani Dilli,  Where Chandi Chowk meets the Qila across the street.  I stand in the crowd, wondering what it was like  When horses and elephants paraded by it. I walk through the old Calcutta lanes, Where once was a canal of British reign.  A ditch to lay off Marathas was built,  And then there are places where elephants took over the streets.  Imagine for once in your mind's eye  What it was like when Siraj's troops went by. I zoom past Haldighati in a car,  Wondering how fast Chetak was  As he led Pratap to safety;  Or how narrow the pass had been  Suitable for war in climates extreme. My heart pounds on significant days and times,  For the writer in me believes in another world  Parallel to mine.  A world that is alive in the past still  Where time is repeated in loops therein. Sometime somewhere in that world  Perhaps, like a dream, we often call the past  S...

 I see night break  Into dawn every day,  The shadows disappear into light.  I lose my grip on dreams again,  Intoxicated in the reality of life.  The blue Illusion appears clearer  Till the sun burns into moonlight tonight. Yet my thirst for love remains  To meet Your soul somewhere divine.  My soul burnt in flames of Love,  Tonight, I smile in peace. I choose to give my love a name.  I dare to call it Devotion;  I vow to wait like a queen does for her king  Endless days and nights. The wind doesn't whisper your stories anymore,  Decades have turned to eras,  Your name has faded in the oasis far away  Yet I waited to hear,  Hoping for You to show the way  To help my soul grow to reach Yours. Oh, where have You gone?  Hidden yourself from me?  Why do you not see me burn  In the trance of Your Elixir of Love? After decades of unfulfilled desires and suffering,  I give my love a p...