RSS Feed

Tag Archives: convenient

“Tiptoe” – Nayana Nair

Posted on

the ones we sign our valentine cards to,
the ones we tie ourselves to for life
wait for us to die (or some form of death) to become free.
their heart is full of love – only not for us.

they tiptoe at night to bury their crimes
and demand honesty only when it suits
what they have in their mind.

so even when we ask,
“why did you break me like this
when I loved you so?”

they say, “there are no proofs in stories like these,
where everyone claims to be wronged.
there are no daggers, only words,
which are conveniently easy to forget
or edit if enough years pass.
anyway no one remembers that well,
one can always hear things wrong.”

so we go back to sleep,
get fine with living blind.
tell our self it is fine
as long as we are together,
when “together” is not what we want.

“Another season that pretends to be spring” – Nayana Nair

Posted on

“love”

you utter this word so often
with a sadness that sounds bigger than this word,
bigger that whatever it may have given you at one time.

is this the sadness that you are trying to burn away?
does it hurt when it also burns a part of you as well,
turning whatever is left into charred surface?

is it convenient ?
to have a heart that looks nothing like it.
to mute her voice just to keep her face in your mind.
to feel her lips, her words in your every kiss.
to freeze yourself with a love that won’t breathe anymore.

“What I Remember (13)” – Nayana Nair

i did all that i must do
and now no one asks me what’s next.
thankfully,
no one burdens me with with their dreams anymore.
i am no longer a possible candidate for the worst,
for taking over the misfortune of my mother’s life.
i no longer have to worry about hurting my parents by
being like them or living like them.
thankfully,
what bothers me, what eats me up
is nothing that would keep anyone else awake
and that is important.

in spite of this emptiness i write about
and this loneliness that seems bigger than this world,
all this do not stop me
from laughing at jokes, craving for food that i shouldn’t eat,
dreaming of another broken love with my only lover,
from having a good time – that i will conveniently forget.
nothing i cry about, no ailing that lives in me
is too large to stop me from living.

i guess i carry an instability in my genes.
if my eyes are in the color of sadness,
i guess i got it from my parents.
and they are lovely people who somehow raised me right
in spite of having a tendency to mess up things
and their sadness with life.

tomorrow i will probably hate them frequently again
but they will nag at me when i reach home drenched in rain,
will tell me sit straight and force me to eat what will keep me alive,
will ask me to keep my phone down,
and sleep a little bit more.

they will not ask what’s wrong and that will disappoint me,
but they will let me do what i want to do (sometimes)
and they will try their best not to wrong me.
they will wish for my happiness,
even if they have no idea what makes me happy
and that is important.

because though i lived my extended teenage
believing that i had no one,
but it was not true.
i saw no one
and it is my fault.
even when i thought i was not loved
they have loved me silently.
though it was a tiring love,
it knew no end.

“Worse than Imperfect” – Nayana Nair

You were the most imperfect person I ever met
and have made me believe that I am worse.

Or maybe I saw too much of you.
so much
that you made me feel sick of you,
sick of myself,
and sick of whatever they call love.

You stumbled around
walking over my feelings,
drunk on your pride
and your sense of entitlement,
threw away what I treasured
because obviously you knew better,
called me insane
called me names
when I called you out on your hypocrisy.

Waking up next morning
expecting understanding,
expecting obedience,
expecting another day of a convenient love
with this inconvenient woman.
One day, that day won’t come.

“Muddy Eyes” – Nayana Nair

How much of the sorrow
that floats on the surface of my muddy eyes
are actually the remains from broken bonds?
How much of it
are the soaked and decomposing paper planes of love
that never made it to my heart.
I write down again
all the things I must not forget,
everything that neutralizes my mistakes,
brings them down to the scale of what others have done.
I make it through this life
by remembering only those who told me
that I worthy of love in spite of selfishness.
Conveniently erasing the moments when they were proved wrong,
erasing how I walked over their hearts
when they no longer loved me,
when they saw that I may need love
but won’t be changed by it or for it.

“Part and Parcel” – Nayana Nair

1333817132_tim_jarp_cafry_net_2

That day when it rained of
bruised and dying birds
of feathers marked with colors only
an arrogant and confident cruelty can cause,
everyone looked about for an umbrella
to protect themselves from this vision
that they didn’t want to witness.
This was not the historic moment
that they wanted to be part of.

large

I could understand their willingness to believe
that the marks of fingers in the blood and bodies
that filled up the roads
can be called natural causes.
It was probably better
than knowing the names of people whom we may have laughed with
only to know they know how to fly,
how to clip wings and suspend the decaying bodies in air
for eternities,
while we asked them the directions for our life,
while we asked them to tie up our laces as a child,
while we asked them to love us, and build a new life.

large

I guess even the innocent
got fed up of being looked at like a potential danger
or tired of looking for one.
It was probably more convenient to come to an understanding,
of agreeing on a made-up fact
that this all is part and parcel of being a bird in the sky,
that birds should know better than to fly,
and tempt innocent humans into life of crime.
Birds at their best should just chirp joyfully
and let everything slide.

“Through the End” – Nayana Nair

large

However convenient it is to pretend,
but we are not the types that go into hibernation
and expect life to continue where we left it.
Though there is a part of us
that wants to hide ourselves into any warm embrace
and rely on darkness for safekeeping our innocence.
There is also a part of us
that wants to stay and see through the end,
however terrible and heart-breaking that maybe.
We fear not knowing
as much as
living alongside a truth not and knowing its name.

Chronicles of an Anglo Swiss

Welcome to the Anglo Swiss World

Darlene Foster's Blog

dreamer of dreams, teller of tales

Andrew's View of the Week

Andrew's view of the world in poetry, prose, and picture

Deep Souldiving

soul journey, breathing, growing, healing

365 dni w obiektywie LG/Samsunga

365 days a lens LG/Samsung

The Phoblography

A Post a Day since 2nd May 2019 - All pictures posted are taken by Dave Bignell

words less spoken

Gen X’er chronicles the art form of living in the Angelino metropolitan environment through poetry, creative writing, art, photography, and culture.

Andreas Blaustein

"Inspiring quote to express my individuality."

TJ Darby's Ale 81 Inn

An eclectic collection of trivia, musings and free range lunacy

Rusted Honey

Poetry, haiku, tanka, and micropoetry

Learning to write

Just your average PhD student using the internet to enhance their CV

Self-Inflicted Drama

Stories of wanderlust, adventure and occasional disaster.

Bullroarin's Blog

Art is the Struggle to Understand

A Frank Angle

Thoughts from the Inner Mind

Plying Through Life

Travel Stories and Other Adventures

treesshrubs's Blog

exploring expressing creating

Sas-Oki Soaps

notes from the shed