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“Whatever Blooms in Darkness” – Nayana Nair

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When all things that are not divine
found a home in me,
I realized they would probably
be the only friends I ever make.
I read up many books
and considered taking up some mildly destructive
and slightly disturbing hobbies,
so that I could know them better.
So I could become someone they could accept.
I looked for a teacher who could teach me
how to love back darkness,
how to become a wound itself
instead of nursing one forever.


I want to say I found happiness
in that one friend
with sad eyes and bitter lips.
But there still lived in me
that one girl made of light
who wanted to ruin me
by guiding me back to life.

“I won’t ask any questions” – Nayana Nair

I won’t ask any questions
that you can’t answer
and there are so many of them.
Everything I want to ask,
everything I want to tell you
is always something that I shouldn’t.
I am tied up by all that can’t let myself do.
But at the same time
I want some kind of happiness with you-
a brief dream, a conversation to recall,
a piece of you that no one else can have.
How shall I come closer to you
without alarming you?
What shall I do
for you to know my heart?

“Aftermath” – Nayana Nair

Like me, probably many have tried their best
to set their limits,
have learned how to stop before learning how to move.
We recite story of forgiveness,
of patience, of eternal undying love
to our children at night.
and when they fall asleep
we recite these stories to ourselves,
so that we may not forget them.
I remember all the proofs, every news that told me
how wanting more, wanting somewhere’s share of happiness,
wanting too much- can result in catastrophes.
that is how I learnt that some wants can destroy lives,
can create demons out of people.
The one who wrongs and the one who is wronged
just move around this world
trying outrun the aftermath of careless actions.

“Wilted dreams of our heart” – Nayana Nair

we keep walking through these roads
lined with trees of wilted dreams,
laden with fruits
of all the happiness that we do not want.

our hearts are narrow cells
capable of far less than we think of,
but always wanting more than what it can hold.
our greed is not a monster,
but a pitiful child who has lost too much,
who refuses to give up anything anymore.

we wait for this child
to stop wanting,
to stop crying,
to stop hiding,
to stop hoping.
we wait for this road to end.
we wait to be abandoned by this child
whom we have let down too many times.

“I keep looking for you” – Nayana Nair

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I am floating towards you
against my own will.
I struggle and loose
against my fate,
against what my heart loves.
I am floating in your eyes
in spite of all my flaws.
I am happy
that you love me.

I am floating again,
floating away from you
and my heart has forgotten
the love I had for you.
But I fear
somewhere in me your are still there,
hiding at places where I won’t look.
So I keep looking you,
so that I can be free from you.
I keep looking you,
even when I don’t want you.

In my sleep,
I open a door to another dream
where I drift in the endless ocean
wearing the clothes I once wore on a school trip,
on a boat that capsized on a show that I saw long ago.
As I lay blinded by sun, by hunger, by life
I uttered your name again and again,
as if you are somewhere near,
as if you would answer.
Your name was the only happiness in that world.
Your name was my only sorrow.

“Frail Sheep” – Nayana Nair

I kept typing
and just when I thought
this is it,
this is what I want to say,
140 characters were over,
the day had ended,
you had closed your eyes,
and turned your face to other side.

I told myself-
‘tomorrow,
tomorrow i will tell you everything,
tomorrow we will be happy.
you may not love me again
after i say all i need to say,
but we will be happy,
even if it’s on our own’.

I repeated this to myself
as if i knew anything about your happiness.
I repeated this
as if I was counting sheep-
sheep that have grown frail
living on nothing but my words.

As another dark dream came to find me,
I prayed that
tomorrow
may I forget all the words
that can set things right.
I’m afraid till the end
I won’t change.
I keep hoping
that we keep walking together
in this rain of sadness and hurt.

“Anything but Gray” – Nayana Nair

Once I could write of rains
and the pain they bring.
Today I am afraid of the umbrellas, of shelters,
of the short-lived moments
of what I used to call happiness,
of the ill-planned escapes from cells
filled with my own darkness and filth.

o

How have I grown into this person
who recognizes only one face,
that is my own.
Can my selfishness be something
that I can blame someone else for?
Is this also some form of loneliness?

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