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Monthly Archives: January 2018

“Easier Life” – Nayana Nair

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I wish I was empty-handed
at the end of our story.
But I am left with your memory
and anger at myself for
not being enough.
Life would have been easier
without both.

“Whale Songs” – Nayana Nair

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My house on hills and its silence
are always occupied in a duel
with the wartime echoes from far away lands,
with the agonizing voices of reality.
Even if I surround my house
with the greenest trees,
place cool streams around.
Even if I cloud my windows
with curtains of smoke.
Even if I barter with life,
even if I am ready to embrace
loneliness for the sake of peace.
In my dreams, filled with whale songs,
there are sorrows
of lives I have cut off myself from.
But I am not someone
who can save people from themselves.
I have no choice but to burn
the letters,
the newspapers,
to keep myself warm and alive.

“Sleeve of Silk” – Nayana Nair

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An ornament blue that reminded me of your eyes.
The sleeve of silk that had finally felt like mine.
The black of my eyes, the blood of my lips.
They took it away one by one.
While you looked on
almost happy to have avoided my fate.
My life became colored with
a dazzling red of sun
being devoured by sky and sea alike.
And no flowery word you use
to soften the memory- of what I felt
and what I suffered,
could remove me from the hell that I was thrown
only for you to climb out.
Maybe you never considered
how I had to pay the price for your dream.
Maybe you never thought of me
when you walked the evening roads
lit with the warm light of possibilities.
Maybe that’s why you stand in front of me
asking why I am bitter.

“Vacant Sky” – Nayana Nair

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There was a melancholy in
looking up at the endless vacant sky
and looking for the invisible presence
of someone to depend on.
To wear these ideas
that were guaranteed
to sort my life and mind.
Except it felt like clothes borrowed.
I had to either return them
or throw them away.

“Support” – Nayana Nair

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We know
how to support the cause.
We don’t know
how to support the victims.

“Scores of Misfortune” – Nayana Nair

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I find discontented people everywhere.
They have complains.
They have problems with people having problems.
They have problem with people whining about these problem.
They repeat every now and then
how this generation has been spoiled too much.
They want people to just bear it, to get on with life.
They preach how there is a measure of how unfortunate life can be
and the people with lower scores of misfortune
have no right to crib about it,
have no right to be sad.
They advise people to keep it in.
They want people to take charge of their life.
They want all the selfish negativity
out of the streets and paper.
I have never seen anyone complain more than these people.
And I don’t know why they don’t take their own advise.

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PS. Everyone would have wished away their sadness if it depended only on their will. Let’s not ridicule or criticize anyone for being what they are and feeling what they do. Let look at each other’s scars with understanding rather than judgement.

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“Blue of our Minds” – Nayana Nair

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The strip of land
that lies in the midst
of the blue of our minds.
There
shall we sit face to face and talk.

We could talk of many things
you could tell me
how your hands throw away
every trinkets and prize,
only because they don’t feel as
you thought they would in your hands.
How they are too heavy on your soul
that doesn’t want to be dragged down.
How they are just things that can be lost
and are found again and again
by hands that will surely loose them again.
And you don’t actually care where they end up.

I could tell you
of my world
where all of these cold things
that your hand detest
have kept me alive,
where my hands brush away
care of others
because I am calculating
which piece of myself I would have to give away
as the cost of the kindness.
(Yes, every kindness has a cost,
even if it is never demanded.)
Because everything that has a warm heart
has a furnace of fire inside
that burns everyone equally.

But I am here sitting opposite you
and I am ready to get my heart broken.
Trust me when I say-
It takes a lot to break me.
And only when it comes to you,
I am not looking for an easy way out.

“Burn the Flowers” – Nayana Nair

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Your severe gaze
resounds and echoes
the meanness only humans have.
But your hands melt at anything you touch
so that nothing,
even water,
is disturbed by your presence
in this world.
How did you learn
make that face
that kept people at distance
and kept them on their toes.
How hard was it
roam in this world (that you loved too much)
knowing everything would hurt you,
and knowing the defeat at the face of the war
that you never wanted
and you can never win.
How hard is it,
to burn the flowers
born out of your soul
only so people would
avoid the impending disaster
that you are not.

“Silver Moon” – Nayana Nair

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Have you reached that part of your life
where the seasons don’t matter,
and time doesn’t matter.
And the only thing that occupies your mind
is you.
Because it is the only thing
breaking in this perfect world
and you know not
how to keep this perfect thing going on.
The silver moon stays in the sky
while your eyes become useless
as the hands of god scribble endlessly,
so that the moon crumbles only in your eyes.
If you haven’t reached that part,
I hope you don’t.
And if you are already there
let’s hope we can get out of it .
For the only hope I have is-
if only I can hold myself together,
there is still that beautiful world out there
whose memory keeps us alive this season-less land.

“Farewell” – Nayana Nair

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The sunrise that I always wanted to see
slipped out of my hand and eyes once again.
Though my heart feared falling asleep,
my eyes could not longer bear to stay awake.
And I found myself in the only place
where I can’t fool myself by smiling hard.
As my mind deserted me here, as it always does,
it only left me with broken words of farewell:
“why me…it’s hard…and it keeps getting hard…i want to give up”

“You can’t”, you whispered from my heart.

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