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Monthly Archives: July 2018

“Loose me in a storm” – Nayana Nair

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The paint will flow onto these papers
that have been starved of purpose and meaning for long,
and they will loose themselves in the meaning
and they can be never written on again.
Look at this meaningless morning
in hours that don’t need to be filled.
Hold my hands one last time
before you give me a name, a meaning
and loose me in a storm of expectations.
Look into my eyes and I will do the same
let’s give each other a memory of light
to search for and suffer for in that storm.

“The Little Blood I Have” – Nayana Nair

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I looked up at the confused giants
and puzzled at their ugly voices
and deformed faces,
how they hold onto stones and branches
how they hold onto papers,
and threw each other off cliffs.
But what made me sadder was
that no one who was thrown off those cliffs ever died.
They just keep coming back
looking a bit different, speaking more funnier
and acting more mean
and throwing each others down again.
No one ever died here.
Everyone lived and everyone wanted all this to end
but no one wished it more than me.
I was made to believe that the little blood I have in me
is their doing, is their gift.
I wonder how much time it would take
to empty myself from the traces of this violence
and memories of people I grew up calling my family.

“Version” – Nayana Nair

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Sometimes the hatred, the bias that
people around him smoked
sticks to his clothes, his skin, his tongue
when I come near him.
He can wash it from himself with a sleep.
He can leave it at the door, when he steps in.
But I can’t wash it out of my mind.

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In my mind
I mix up the person he is and the person he has to be.
But I realise that I do not know the person he is,
I only know the person he has to be for me,
I only resent the person he has to be for others.

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The person he is, looks at me from his corner of eyes
and this stranger looks at me
not across oceans, not across roads of fate,
but across the versions of us filling up the space between us,
the versions we can never throw away.

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This stranger looks at me and gives me the smile
that he has to wear for me.
For me to realise the love I have for the the days
I share with this person who spends his days with me,
loses his ways with me and grows old with me.
I smile back becoming the person I have to be for him,
becoming the version I love the most.

“Mess” – Nayana Nair

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A shadow moves in the clearing ahead
avoiding the columns of lighted air.
It steps on the green
now splattered with red
and looks for a hand that can help,
to get rid of this blood.
It finds my face and looks away
seeing probably I am in a bigger mess.

“End Our Tiring Travel” – Nayana Nair

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Are we just each others excuse,
just a means to tie up this mind
to a worry and to a calmness made of flesh.
To end our tiring travel
between the states of “living-with-wavering-doubt-of-whether-to-exist-or-not”
to “searching-for-another-temporary-purpose-to-act-as-reins-to-our-heart-going-out-of-control”.
What happens when we are no longer a good enough anchor for each other?
What happens when we no longer want to be moored
to the reasons of this world?

“Unnoticed” – Nayana Nair

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Yesterday, a line etched on my hands
slipped away from the skin that once held it so dearly
and still I lived on as if the the fate I lived now
was the one I was destined for.
I like to call it yesterday
for it is easy to suppose that we always knew what was coming,
that the things we lost didn’t entirely go unnoticed.
When in fact most days we wake up remembering
details about things that have gone to places
where they no longer have to care whether they are still forgotten
by people like us who do such a poor job of caring for anything.
We are always too young to know or too old to bother.
All that find a way to us through this forest of sadness
are disappointed to see what we are
and try best to stay, to lurk around, to be of some use to us,
till we drop them from our mind,
and they stare us in face and try to digest the excuses
that we didn’t even care to give.

Prayer

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