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“What I Remember (15)” – Nayana Nair

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I think of the clothes that are too tight or too loose for me,
of my skin that doesn’t like me the way it used to.
How the mirrors in my home are hidden
by the growing towers of books.
I wonder what this says about me?
I think of the fear that I feel when I am alone,
the fear that I feel when I walk into happiness.
I think of the kinds of fear that fill my heart.
I count them for a long time
but nothing happens when I finish counting.
I wonder if knowing myself
is really the first step to solving my life.
Do I want anything to be solved?
I count the people that who no longer speak to me
and half way through I remember
that it was me who had thrown them away first.
Silence is my weapon, not theirs.
I realize I need to always hold a grudge against someone
to live with strength.
I wonder when this strength became so important to me.
I wonder when this love that felt like a lemonade in summer
actually became a commercialized product
with an expiry date stamped on it
before it even reaches our hands.
I think of my skin by which I am stuck to a world like this.
I wonder why I pretend to be better than this world by saying such stuff?
Why am I so into acting all deep and philosophical?
I wonder why I love to call myself broken even though I hate to be seen so?
Don’t misunderstand me.
I do not want answers.
Answers are painful and pointless,
answers are a tasteless end
to the struggle that otherwise makes my heart bleed colors.

About Nayana Nair

Hi, I am Nayana Nair. I'm 25. Just a crazy girl who has tons of things to talk about....not much organized thoughts sadly. I like to talk about everything...mostly..every conversation of mine turns into a monologue.... So I decided I should start writing a blog..rather than chat.... I'm very much passionate about music, psychology and literature.... Moderate interest in science..... I always want to be a writer (and also a teacher)..But I don't think I have the skills required...this blog is just my attempt at becoming the writer I always wanted to be...Blogging for few years, I have realized I am more of a poet (although, I am not sure that I am good enough for that label)...I hope I realize more about myself through writing. Thanks for dropping by!! Hope I didn't disappoint. :)

7 responses »

  1. I think the early part is the fixation of the self but for me the telling line was ‘that it was me who had thrown them away first’ when it changes the whole tone of the poem. A great piece of work ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚

    Reply
  2. “How the mirrors in my home are hidden
    by the growing towers of books.”

    This will sound like an old aunt speaking, but I really wish more young girls could say this. Well done for nailing one of life’s mysteries. ๐Ÿ™‚

    Reply
    • You don’t sound like an aunt ๐Ÿ™‚ don’t worry ๐Ÿ™‚
      I am glad to find people who agree with how important books are (especially in a time where people think don’t want to put effort into reading)
      Glad you liked my work ๐Ÿ™‚ Grateful for all the lovely comments that you are leaving for my work ๐Ÿ™‚
      Thank you. Means a lot ๐Ÿ˜€

      Reply

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