Suruma Writes On...

There was a time when I slept  among Kalashnikovs, When I was always willing to be the suicide bomber, I walked among fearless men, Who spared not even young children. They said they’ll pay me sums, a hundred rupees; I’ve not even seen a hundred rupees. They said they’ll feed my poor mother And cure her of her ailments. They said they’ll give me a better house to live in, And give me a square meal a day. Oh! How naïve I was to have believed them. I was young and full of vigor, When they asked me to do the foul deed, I set my pistols and bombs, And toiled myself day in and day out, With patience and excitement. But the day I killed them, I saw a part of me die with them. I heard wailing mothers, In the wake of their loss. That robbed them of their hopes and joys. I saw blood everywhere, vengeance in every breath, Until it taught me of my ghastly act. My hands are stained with the stench of my beastly act Oh! What have I don...

Enough with the roar of the mortars that spit And the drones that dance in the skies. Dumb have our ears become; Blind are our eyes. Our hands are stained with the blood of destruction, Our minds are overpowered by fear. It seems that Antony’s curse has lighted upon us; The foul deeds are indeed smelling above the earth And carrion men everywhere; Groaning for burial. Homes, we called them, The fragments of broken walls Besieged with memories of an illustrious past. Toys have vanished, and with them, Our children too. All that remains are the blood smeared shells That have showered from high above. We’ve crossed barren deserts and fierce seas Living a corpse’s dead life, Leaving behind our love and life. Days and days we’ve spent, Amidst roaring waves and starry nights. Nay! They do not scare us anymore. We’ve walked from land to land, Country to country, Across barbed wires and hefty soldiers. We knocked and knocked But no ...

Till yesterday our world was different; We couldn’t see boats on roads, Nor could we find bodies floating like infernos . Our houses were aloft, And the city looked bright and yellow. Subways and highways we vaunted of Hotels and flats we bragged about. But a flicker of a night Snatched from us everything we had. Leaving us with poor life Begging for tiny drops of mercy. The water swallowed our homes, Our roads and flats, Our food and clothes And our pride as such. Our houses started stinking of sewage That crept in from the sewers outside our gates Engulfing all that we were left of. Until the day a roof became a sight so scarce And food-a luxury. Our arms pleaded for help And our souls drank the pity of the deluge. Darkness became a habit, And the tired voices of lament became feeble and feeble Till we could hear no more. No arc of Noah appeared before us, Deserted we remained; And abandoned we are, That now, we have lea...

The Christmas bells are ringing The snowy houses with thatched roofs And mistletoes and honeysuckles, Make this day a blessing!   The hugs and gifts, The shops left ajar, The jars of sugar candies, And the stockings hung low Lives deep in the hearts of the heirs, Of the kingdom of God!   A life time of Joy And a handful of happiness; Those gifts of Christmas, Which washes away the sorrow and grief Like the pure blue waves that sweeps the weeds into itself The shepherds of paradise!   It is the night of Christmas; The eve of joy and contentment, Of love and happiness, With the bells, trees and decors. ‘Oh’ I reckon- “It’s Christmas eve!”

We were fortunate enough to be present for the closing ceremony of the 20th International Film Festival of Kerala ( IFFK ) which concluded 2 days before here in Thiruvananthapuram. Fortunate enough to have got the opportunity to see the film 'Ottal' ,directed by Jayraj which bagged several awards,including the Suvarna Chakoram in the fest. It is a sweet adaptation of Anton Chekhov's short story 'Vanka' set in the agricultural hotspot of Kuttanad in Kerala.                                     It depicts the life of Kuttapayi, a small boy not more than 10, who lives with his grandfather in a tiny bamboo shed, making a living out of selling eggs of ducks. In spite of not being educated,Kuttapayi is a bright boy who weaves intense relationships with nature and its elements. He becomes good friends with Tinku, a boy from a wealthy middle class family and comes to know of the  joy of  go...

I wish I had a time machine.So that I could travel to the times of the Delhi Sultans or the Mughals or the Rajputs. I wish I was a princess in the court of some ruler. I wish I had a chance to live in a palace that boasts of architecture that serves royalty, with gardens and halls where I would dance to the alluring tunes that steals the hearts of the captivated audience!. I wish I could adorn myself with beautiful Anarkalis or Lehengas studded with jewels that make your eyes blink.I wish I could learn the perfect skills of artillery and sword fighting so that I would be able to challenge even the bravest of men with perfect grace. I wish the generations to come would revere me as the fiercest of all women. I wish I knew how people lived in the times of war and struggles.I just wish so badly that I could experience all of it!       I, as a child have always shown a particular reverence to historical structures.They have never failed to give me goosebumps,wherever they ...

The 5th of October this year was a very special and eventful day.Besides being World Teacher's Day,it was my my birthday as well.- my  day! Oh!Dear!. Please don't brag me about treats and feasts!We're not the celebration people. My birthdays usually get over like any other day except for the new clothes or the dining outs. Cake cuttings are something that I've dropped back in 3rd or 4th grade. But absolutely no complaints.I totally love the way my birthdays go and I would always love to keep it subtle and simple.But being human means accepting occasional changes!                       Before talking about the  day,let me talk about our gang-The JAKAFAS.The name simply represents the first letter of each of our names-Jasmin, Alan, Krista, Anna, Fidha, Alza and Sandra. The seven of us have been in the same class for the last 2 years. I can't say we're best buddies;none of us can. But we're good friends and we mean it-we ar...