“Paintings of springs and fault lines. Sketches of lost mothers.” – Nayana Nair

.

She sings.
An echo, a heartbreak maybe,
something piercing, something invisible,
something not ours-
this is all that we are allowed feel
(as long as we want to feel).

She is everywhere.
She sleeps, buried under the heavy weight
of water and floating globes of life and
drowning boats and oil.
She is everywhere.

Yet her voice outlines every step we take.
Every dying step is a step lost to her name.
Running away is beautiful in this city.
The traces of our writhing, crawling, changing bodies,
painted on every stone, every wall,
doesn’t let us forget the dust of the world
we crushed by our hands,
doesn’t let us forget the word “home”.

All our journeys branch from her heart.
We sit huddled with our feet in water,
with our hands over fires dying out
and talk of her. Always her.

“Any Place” – Nayana Nair

Since I knew nothing is replaceable,
I couldn’t properly miss anything.
To stay at one place and to miss another seemed unfair,
seemed to mean that there is only one place
where my mind could be at ease.
But fortunately or unfortunately, it was not so.
I knew that almost any place can be made into home,
that starting new isn’t a big deal if you do it often.
I slept well anywhere I went.
Since I was lonely everywhere I went
that made everything much easier, I guess.

“Only Me” – Nayana Nair

Stay here with me.
Everyone else has forgotten you dear.
Only me,
it is only me that carries you everywhere it rains,
everywhere the Sunday morning starts with empty table and aching heart,
everywhere the number blinking in my phone is not yours.
It’s only me
that wakes up in this nightmare of life
clutching what should have been your hand,
that walks into every shops that would have caught your eye.
It isn’t easy to walk into stores
and think of your absent giggles
as my only future that would never arrive.
It isn’t easy
but I can do it.
I can keep a space for you
everywhere I go,
I can keep aside an extra plate for you.
I can live as if you are here
if only you’d stay hidden with me.
They have forgotten you dear,
their thoughts are scared to linger around graves.
It is only me that calls out your name.

“Clueless” – Nayana Nair

If I was to resent that everyone I met,
everywhere I went,
everyone
took something from me,
yanked it out of my consciousness,
moved within my mind
with dirty shoes and clumsy hand,
and left me clueless of who I am.

Then I would also have to thank this world
for all the things
that poured into me
that came to me on its own.
That shielded me, distracted me,
even saved from
my own expectation that would never have been met.

“Flower” – Nayana Nair

I pluck one leaf at a time
from this flower, this script
my life is.
I throw them from bridges
on cold evenings.
I bury them in the soil
that soils their print with time.
I burn them to ashes,
so they won’t smell the same.
I hang them on trees
that will never bear fruits.
To leave this story of mine
everywhere and nowhere.
So that you may find it.
So that you may not find it.
But
I wear the last page, last leaf
with only one word, you name, written,
on my finger
as substitute for you hands
that I can no longer hold.

“Promised Destiny”- Nayana Nair

This life. These people. Who can shatter

at least impact.

But I suppose we live in denial.

For I don’t think that we will

be living this life as we are

if we knew how delicate it is.

I imagine you hands and their gentle grip.

You lips, how they curl when they smile,

and how lovely the words they utter.

You skin that shudders and shivers.

I imagine all this and all that is yours

And hence it is mine.

But when you lifeless body

meets its promised destiny.

Will you still be mine?

Those eyes, that skin, those hands

without life.

And you will rot away

till you are part of this earth.

And you will be everywhere,

but still I would be alone.

Is that love?

Is it love that makes my hand tremble

at the mere thought of you not being there.

Let’s choose this love

that will be end of me, end of you.

Let’s accept the pain this love is.

Because nothing we do,

no pain that we give each other

can be worse than what we will be left with

in the end.

“THE JOURNEY”- Nayana Nair

She walked down the road

In the middle of “everywhere”.

With the wind ruffling through her skirt

And wild flowers stomped beneath her feet.

Her hair twisted around her little finger

Along with his heart.

Of the one who had walked by her side

For an eternity.

His one hand carrying the luggage

And other clutching his heart.

His world was what she saw

And his “everywhere” where she walked.

Silences were made

To be filled by her words.

and her pauses were

meant to be filled by his voice.

The companion in their travel

Was the transient fluttering image

Of his arms entwined in hers

And her laughter weaving

A dream in his eyes.

What this image was to them?

A mirage?

A promise?

That gave them courage to take one more step.

That made every loss bearable.

Or a reality of their hearts?

An old silly idea of romance

That found no place in this world

Maybe found a place in theirs.