VIOLET
We were one in body and soul.
INDIGO
We stood together never breaking apart.
BLUE
After they tried to drown us you forgot how to breathe.
GREEN
Your thorns pierce my heart.
YELLOW
I search for another sun in my solar system.
ORANGE
Fall seven times. Get up. Eight.
RED
The wounds heal but the scars remain.
Shiuli Sural is a young Indian writer based out of New Delhi. She mostly writes fiction, underlining a social message in her stories. Besides being an avid reader and writing, her hobbies include drawing, listening to music and cooking.
By Shiuli Sural
Ahoy there! The land approaches
The soldiers rejoice, the prisoner reproaches
They’ve come back from another battle
Destroyed houses, people and cattle
So the kingdom is now safe again
From enemies, treachery and disdain
The brave-hearts fought with all their might
To win each and every fight
But,
Those who had been martyred
On both sides, winners and losers
Shed tears for their families from above
They had been husbands, sons and fathers.
A war can never decide
Who is wrong and who is right
What is big and what is small
Who will rise and who will fall
What war does,
Is that it divides the world
Into more pieces and erects more walls
How can a broken heart ever rejoice
With restless nights and a dying voice
My world , my people, my near and dear
Let’s live in peace with love and care
Holding hands we all will say
That we renounce war from today
There are more pressing matters to be dealt with
Changing climate, rising poverty and filth
This beautiful blue mother Earth
Needs us to acknowledge her worth.
By Shiuli Sural
It was not long ago
When the world looked dark to me
It made me question myself
My life, my choice, my ability
I turned around, looking
For help to forget my strain
Instead I found, a white substance
An answer to my pain
I felt so high
Like I could almost fly
This was ecstasy
No more did I cry
My very own world
No one to be seen
None to be heard
Here, I was the queen
A day arrived
Though not all of a sudden
When this world of mine
Was ruled by Satan
What I’d created in a frenzy
Had now turned it’s back on me
It clenched my throat
How I choked and choked
In the ocean of despair
Was my life’s sinking boat
But,
Then a change that was long due
Came in little by little
And I started to realise
Why my life was so brittle
I reached out for help,
Support, hope and empathy
I found oceans of all this and more
In someone who saved me
My therapist proved to be
An angel in disguise
Light and love she made me see
And freed me from my ties
Now,
I see the world with hues of hope
And the earth bejewelled with light
My mind and soul dream and smile
I find joy in every sight.
Clutching notes
Chasing the crescendos
The musician gloats
She tells her story
With its many heroes
And their glory
The melody is deep
It chases away the pitiful depravities of humanity
But plots are oft steep
The fools clutch their sanity
Deprived of the tale
They never reach the summit,
They just aren’t cuckoo enough
Ones like me, we fill our voids
Loose it all and sail away
We chase a horizon
Within the melodies
And at last
The joy is ours….. Joy of what you ask?
Oh dear, it is the plunder of the crazy
The happy despair of the hopeless
The best of the worst
It’s so meagre, yet plentiful
That it lasts me an eternity of a second
I dine with the musician herself in that glimpse
She coos her melodies, soft and demented
And that my sane friend is …. The joy!
Symphonies rush into my mind
A melody here and a harmony there
Music overwhelms my senses
Fills me up
Lifts me up
This buoyancy is a feeling
I never want to get rid of
For I feel this way so rarely
I’m usually numb
And then when the music ends
This feeling settles over me
There one second and gone the next
Always leaving me feeling
Half of what I was
But then come the symphonies
And once again I’m awake
Awash
In colours and sounds
Filling up my senses
My mind, to the brim
And just when I feel
I’m about to soar
The symphonies disappear
And so does the rush
I’m back to where I’m started
Rock bottom
And I crave the sound
It’s a vicious never ending cycle
It leaves me feeling cursed
But the music gives me strength
It gives me hope
And maybe one day
I’ll feel brave enough to
String together some symphonies
Make something that’s purely my own
And then maybe someday
I’ll have the courage to share it with the world
Maybe someday
Someone else like me
Will hear it
And it’ll make them feel
Less alone
And then maybe
It’ll inspire them to create something too
To play it until they’re heard
Lift someone else up
Fill them with hope
And then maybe it’ll start a new cycle
Of inspiration, of resilience
A beacon of hope
Music made by kindred hearts, kindred spirits.
" Young Writers' Collective" 