Kamala Surayya Award Message Archives

Kamala Surayya Quotes : Bio, Award, Books, Message, Image, Kamala Surayya is a famous poet of English or Malayalam language, she started her career in the field of literature with her autobiography named “My Story”, it got immense fame at national and international level, which made many people know her.

In today’s article, we will know in detail about Kamala Surayya life character, biography, literary awards, autobiography, family awards etc.

Kamala Surayya wiki, Biography

Name poetess Kamala	Kamala Surayya (Kamala Das)
Date of Birth	March 31, 1934
Place of Birth	Kerala
Father’s name	also. M. Nair
Died	May 31, 2009
Husband	Madhav Das
Official Website	Click Now

Kamala Surayya Career

She was born on March 31, 1934 in Kerala, India, she was fond of writing novels and poetry since birth, due to which she started writing poetry, her husband’s name was Madhavdas and her family’s condition was very weak,

Due to various family circumstances, she had to face a lot of difficulties, due to which she prepared her autobiography after hard work, which was published as “Meri Kahani” and it was so famous and controversial that it has been translated into more than 15 foreign languages. It has been translated, due to which it gained fame in many countries.

Kamala’s English works include ‘The Siren’, ‘Summer in Calcutta’, ‘The Descendants’, ‘The Old House and Other Poems’, ‘Alphabets of Lust’. Twelve books like ‘Stories’ ‘The Anna Malai Poems’ and ‘Padmavati the Harlot and Other Poems’. etc. have been published.

Kamala Surayya Quotes

“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

“I am a woman in search of her own voice, her own identity, her own desires.”

A book is a good substitute for a man. Fiction, preferably

Wipe out the paints, unmould the clay, Let nothing remain of that yesterday

“To love a man as a woman is like dancing on broken glass.”

You didn’t ever love him, but you were sentimental about him.

“I am being drowned by my husband, my father, and my brother – I am being pushed against my will into my tomb.”

“My heart feels small in my body, like a drop of water in a bucket, surrounded by parched earth.”

“Why do you love this man who offers you only pain?”
Kamala Suraiyya Das

“I do not want to be a mere reflection of a man; I want to be the sun, shining bright in my own sky.”

kamala Surayya quotes malayalam

“في أي ساعة مناسبة
بصرتُ بأبوابك المشرعة
وخطوتُ نحو النور
وأزحتُ الأستار المظلمة
ونسيتُ كل الآلام
في قدمي
وأنا أرتقي الدرج.”
Kamalā Sur̲ayya, رنين الثريا

“لقد كنت دائما أسمع
أن الإسلام بحيرة،
تختبئ في أعماقها الأخطار:
في هذه المياه المصبوغة بالاخضرار
تنتظر
أفاع بعيون خضراء،
وتماسيح،
وسرطانات تنفث سموما؛
وبخوف قاتل مضيت بعيدا.”
Kamalā Sur̲ayya, رنين الثريا

“إنني أشكرك من أعماق قلبي
على الترياق
وأيضا على السم..”
Kamalā Sur̲ayya, رنين الثريا

“إنني أبحث عنك في كل مكان،
في يأسي المُوحش
يمينا ويسارا
أماما وخلفا
في شوق عظيم
أجري باحثة عنك
في جهالة
غزال المسك..”
Kamalā Sur̲ayya, رنين الثريا

“أمسك بقوّة
هذه الرُوح المرتجفة”
Kamalā Sur̲ayya, رنين الثريا

kamala surayya poems

Summer in Calcutta by Kamala Das

What is this drink but
The April sun, squeezed
Like an orange in
My glass? I sip the
Fire, I drink and drink
Again, I am drunk
Yes, but on the gold
of suns, What noble
venom now flows through
my veins and fills my
mind with unhurried
laughter? My worries
doze. Wee bubblesring
my glass, like a brides’
nervous smile, and meet
my lips. Dear, forgive
this moments lull in
wanting you, the blur
in memory. How
brief the term of my
devotion, how brief
your reign when i with
glass in hand, drink, drink,
and drink again this
Juice of April suns.

A Hot Noon In Malabar by Kamala Das

This is a noon for beggars with whining
Voices, a noon for men who come from hills
With parrots in a cage and fortune-cards,
All stained with time, for brown Kurava girls
With old eyes, who read palm in light singsong
Voices, for bangle-sellers who spread
On the cool black floor those red and green and blue
Bangles, all covered with the dust of roads,
Miles, grow cracks on the heels, so that when they
Clambered up our porch, the noise was grating,
Strange……… This is a noon for strangers who part
The window-drapes and peer in, their hot eyes
Brimming with the sun, not seeing a thing in
Shadowy rooms and turn away and look
So yearningly at the brick-ledged well. This
Is a noon for strangers with mistrust in
Their eyes, dark, silent ones who rarely speak
At all, so that when they speak, their voices
Run wild, like jungle-voices. Yes, this is
A noon for wild men, wild thoughts, wild love. To
Be here, far away, is torture. Wild feet
Stirring up the dust, this hot noon, at my
Home in Malabar, and I so far away ……..