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Monthly Archives: November 2017

“Kinder” – Nayana Nair

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Would people have been more kinder
and affectionate,
if only the world didn’t misunderstand
niceness on a daily basis?
How come we live with such a distorted view
that we are afraid of being good to each other?
From the fear of being judged.
From the fear of being ridiculed.
From the fear of being burdened forever.
From the fear of being taken advantage of.
From the fear of being looked down on.

“Softer Light” – Nayana Nair

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I like days like these
when the clouds cover up my view of sky
and make the light from sun
lighter and softer
for it hurts my eyes less,
hurts my heart less.
These days reveal to me a happier me,
who has shared my life silently.
In the song I hum
there are sprinkles of your love
but never quite enough
to call this songs yours.
The songs I sing
on days like these
are always about myself.

“Another Candle” – Nayana Nair

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I have been awake since the storm started.
My eyes won’t close
from the fear of losing this world.
Even if, all this world gives me
is reason to hide,
reason to lay awake.
Sometimes enduring a storm.
Sometimes waiting for it.
I light another candle
to burn away my sleep.
I light another part of me
to burn away my awareness.
I light all the roads
that I will never take.
All I can do is stay awake
and wait for the inevitable.

“Climb” – Nayana Nair

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Three steps materialize in front of me
every day.
Step 1 : You tell me how you love me.
Step 2 : I believe you.
Step 3: I realize love is not enough.
Love is not cute always
I am losing too much to cherish the love in your heart
After that last step, I see myself fall into the darkness
that binds me to you.
Even though I fall
I clench in my fist
my hatred and mistrust for this world,
for which you suffer.
Everyday I wake up
to these three steps again.
Everyday I choose to climb them,
for you climb those steps with me,
suffer the same as me.
I will climb them everyday till I die.
I will climb them, only for you.

“Mistaken” – Nayana Nair

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Surely
there were others as well
who were standing beside me till now,
who loved me, at least liked me.
Surely I am mistaken
that I am abandoned.
There were several houses that fell silent
as my legs lingered on their doorsteps.
There was a sigh of relief as I left.
A sigh
muffled by my own will to ‘not hear’.
As I went far from them,
their memories and promises
became louder in my head.

Surely I was mistaken.

“Spilling the Ink” – Nayana Nair

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You ask why I don’t stay and fight.
You ask if I realise that
I can win as much as others.
I tell you that everyone has a dream.
And what I get by staying and fighting,
are not my dream.
That I cannot live in this world
of regulated self-expression.
Always fearing when I would spill out of the lines.
So even if my broken is not as shabby and scattered.
Even if my madness is not the sort
that can get admiration.
Even if my hands struggle with holding myself where I am.
Just know that I leave,
not because of aversion to this world,
nor to find a better place.
I leave cause I cannot breathe in water
even if I want to.

“Beauty” – Nayana Nair

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Here on this paper
my lies have no meaning,
no purpose,
no responsibilty of the aftermath,
no hearts broken.
Here, lies can be cherished
for the beauty they are.

“My Life” – Nayana Nair

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My life like
that autumn leaf,
falls and flies
at the same time.

“Possible” – Nayana Nair

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My heart feels like a sheet of ice.

With restless birds of pain

trapped forever,

fluttering around.

Making the world look dark.

Imitating my cries.

But as you pass by me,

your shadow on my heart

feels beautiful and painful.

Your shadow

looks like a barren tree,

where my pain can sit and chirp.

Though the ice doesn’t melt.

Though the pain remains.

But you also exist.

My rest, my sanity-

possible only by your existence.

“The Idea of Something More” – Nayana Nair

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My frail body and mind
were nothing more than what it was intended for.
And I was no better than any other
body barely keeping itself alive.
And though I was fed again and again
the idea of being something more,
being someone more.
In moments like these
I am reduced by my sorrows
to the helpless creature
we all know we are.

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See also http://dezedusone.wordpress.com/

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