Kamala Surayya



Kamala Surayya (born Kamala; 31 March 1934 – 31 May 2009), popularly known by her one-time pen name Madhavikutty and Kamala Das, was an Indian English poet as well as a leading Malayalam author from Kerala.

Quotes And Poem
There is a house now far away where once I received love……. That woman died, The house withdrew into silence, snakes moved Among books, I was then too young To read, and my blood turned cold like the moon How often I think of going There, to peer through blind eyes of windows or Just listen to the frozen air, Or in wild despair, pick an armful of Darkness to bring it here to lie Behind my bedroom door like a brooding Dog…you cannot believe, darling, Can you, that I lived in such a house and Was proud, and loved…. I who have lost My way and beg now at strangers' doors to Receive love, at least in small change? Kamala Surayya POEM ,(MY GRANDMOTHERS HOUSE) === '''QUOTES ==


 * I am fed up with the Congress. I am beginning to prefer the BJP to the Congress, because the Congress is now more communal than the BJP, despite Ram Janmabhoomi. It is the Congress which evolved the Muslim votebank. ... In comparison, I prefer the BJP as an alternative, because it is less corrupt. The BJP at least loves the country. But I wish the BJP does not stress redundant issues like the Ram Janmabhoomi or other places of worship.
 * Kamala Surayya, quoted by Leela Menon (1996), and quoted from Elst, Koenraad (2014). Decolonizing the Hindu mind: Ideological development of Hindu revivalism. New Delhi: Rupa. p. 245.


 * I fell in love with a Muslim after my husband's death. He was kind and generous in the beginning. But I now feel one shouldn't change one's religion. It is not worth it. Also, I have been accused of being feminist. I am not a feminist, as it is understood. I don't hate men. I feel a woman is most attractive when she surrenders to her man. She is incomplete without a man.
 * Suresh Kohli: Still a rebel writer, The Hindu (August 13, 2006)
 * I am sinner, I am saint. I am the beloved and the betrayed. I have no joys that are not yours, no aches which are not yours. I too call myself I.
 * Kamala Suraiyya Das
 * All round me are words, and words and words, They grow on me like leaves, they never  Seem to stop their slow growing  From within... But I tell my self, words  Are a nuisance, beware of them, they  Can be so many things, a  Chasm where running feet must pause, to  Look, a sea with paralyzing waves,  A blast of burning air or,  A knife most willing to cut your best  Friend's throat... Words are a nuisance, but.  They grow on me like leaves on a tree,  They never seem to stop their coming,  From a silence, somewhere deep within...
 * Kamala Suraiyya Das (Summer in Calcutta)
 * A book is a good substitute for a man. Fiction, preferably.
 * Kamala Suraiyya Das (Wages of Love)
 * Like other women writers of my class, I am expected to tame my talent to suit the comfort of my family.
 * Kamala Suraiyya Das (Wages of Love)
 * Wipe out the paints, unmould the clay, Let nothing remain of that yesterday.
 * Kamala Suraiyya Das (My Story: The Compelling Autobiography of the Most Contreversial Indian Writer)
 * Getting a man to love you is easy Only be honest about your wants as  Woman. Stand nude before the glass with him  So that he sees himself the stronger one  And believes it so, and you so much more  Softer, younger, lovelier. Admit your  Admiration.  Gift him all,  Gift him what makes you woman, the scent of  Long hair, the musk of sweat between the breasts,  The warm shock of menstrual blood, and all your  Endless female hungers. Oh yes, getting  A man to love is easy, but living  Without him afterwards may have to be  Faced.
 * Kamala Suraiyya Das
 * You didn't ever love him, but you were sentimental about him.
 * Kamala Suraiyya Das (Wages of Love)
 * If wrappings of cloth can impart respectability, the most respectable persons are the Egyptian mummies, all wrapped in layers and layers of gauze.
 * Kamala Suraiyya Das (Wages of Love)
 * At sunset, on the river ban, Krishna Loved her for the last time and left. . .  That night in her husband's arms, Radha felt  So dead that he asked, What is wrong,  Do you mind my kisses, love? And she said,  Not not at all, but thought, What is   It to the corpse if the maggots nip?
 * Kamala Suraiyya Das (The Descendants)
 * It is I who drink lonely  Drinks at twelve, midnight, in hotels of strange towns,   It is I who laugh, it is I who make love   And then, feel shame, it is I who lie dying   With a rattle in my throat. I am sinner,   I am saint. I am the beloved and the   Betrayed. I have no joys that are not yours, no   Aches which are not yours. I too call myself I.
 * Kamala Suraiyya Das