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“So many things” – Nayana Nair

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The jar of broken smiles
sits on my table,
along with the books and records
of my fading writing.
There are so many things
that wither at my touch.
There are so many things
that cannot be brought back to life.
Their graves lie here dreaming to be resurrected.
So many seconds laid waste in my worry
for the future that never will be.

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“Days and Nights” – Nayana Nair

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I see you there
on the terrace of a house
that I must imagine,
for I have never seen it
in all the years we have been together-
your house-
that sits on the same piece of land as mine.
The roads,
the night,
the days-that separate us.
The words that fill
this huge space between us
little by little.
Trying to bring me closer to you,
these words day by day
fill this city to its brim.
Till I hear your heart
from miles away.
But I feel you are not mine
As your words, like poison
eat away my love.
I miss those streets, the nights.
I miss the days
when there was more to this world,
than you.

“Weather” – Nayana Nair

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There are footsteps
drawn in rainwater
that float on the floor
that was once firm and solid
but now cracks under my every step.
The rain and storm
must have brought him here.
The never improving
weather of his heart.
Did he find what he came for?
How long he must have stood here?
Was it still raining when he left?

“Too many poems” – Nayana Nair

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impending rain

I may write too many poems about rain.
Impending rain.
No rain.
But isn’t it how we categorize moments in our life.
Happy.
Not happy.
Waiting for happiness.
Struggling for happiness.
Only difference:
struggling for rain
won’t bring you rain.

“These days” – Nayana Nair

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These days
I want to stay away from people,
who I once called friends,
(I think they never called me that)
and I have doubts on what I feel.

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These days
I am suffering from an unexplained aversion
to human relation and condition.
My efforts are spent
in avoiding people and small talks.

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These days,
I spend my days
thinking, “What is wrong with me?’,
knowing that these feeling are weird
and still not finding something wrong
where there should be soomething wrong.
In the brief moments when I am reminded
of once dear faces,
I feel an ache,
a feeling that I have been let down,
I have been betrayed by everyone,
I have been wronged.

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These days,
I am no longer myself.
I am somewhere where
I have lost sense of myself and others.
Even though you miss me,
even though you love me,
please don’t try to bring me back.

“Frail Thread” – Nayana Nair

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These lines that
connect to my heart,
pass through landscapes
devoid of human presence.
This frail thread
passes through valley of flowers
that have no color.
Through balconies overlooking
desolate streets and
sky crowded with stars.
Through stairs leading to floors
that no one visits.
Through the branches of old trees
broken in the storms.
Through abandoned toys in locked rooms
with no owners.
Through the warm sheets
where I rest with my dreams.
and bring loneliness of the world
that lies beside me,
while I wonder
why do I feel so hollow inside.

“Going back in time” – Nayana Nair

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There could never be a time for us.
We could never ask the question
we never thought of.
We could never bring up a spring of love
in our dry hearts.
And going back in time
makes no difference.
We would always be what we are
anything contrary to that,
anything against our very own nature,
makes us no less than a living lie.
Will that be still counted as love?
There would never be a right time
in the past that is already made
and nor in lives
that had no space for it anyways

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