“I hope for them to not see and not know”- Nayana Nair

.

The river rises,
another flood is here
and I haven’t yet learnt to swim.
My friends are again at my door.
They knock, then they start crying.
They tell me about the happiness I can’t see,
they try to predict what you
would have wanted me to be,
and all I can do is laugh at it all.

My laugh, it must be as frightening to them as my tears now.
For even as they send me pics of kittens and quotes,
and stories saved from fire, stories filled with hope,
I hear their panic from the other side.
They know that just taking your name
had undone the strength
they tried to feed me for months.

And since now they can’t breathe
everytime I close my door, everytime I refuse to speak –
I am another hell to them.
And since I can’t let them break over me –
they are another pillow pressing on my face.

I hope for them to let me own my sadness.
I hope for them to not see and not know my pain.
But they do, they feel so much of me
that I have to open the door,
that I have to let them hold my hands.

I tell them that I’ll live no matter what
and they still tell me that it is not enough-
they want me to be who I was.
I can only smile at their cruel hopes for me.

“why am i hurt by your hopes?” – Nayana Nair

i thought…
i wanted…
i am always looking for…
i am nothing without…

must i fill these sentences?
is it compulsory
to tell you where it hurts and why?

the pencil bends and breaks
in my hand, but my voice won’t crack.
i think a bit of my cruelty shows
through everything that i do.

“have you ever wanted to be a person like me?”
when i ask you this, you avoid my eyes.
the often-spoken-and-never-meant words
surface on your lips,
“i love you for who you are, i want nothing more”
sadly followed by
“it is not too late to change”

“MY STAR”- NAYANA NAIR AND NIKKI

 

 

 

Stars were studded on ink stained sky,

Like memories and tears making life worthwhile.

Though the stars must have dazzled any mortal eye,

The moon had no care for my hopes and smiles.

 

It refused to shine the path I tread,

That silent street, with kindness dead,

And poems of glory unheard, and unread,

Where my promising future and disappointing life met.

Only a star high in the sky,

Chose to believe in me and kept me alive,

Through hopeless hours

And darkening nights.

 

At last when I found my awaited morning,

It was for the night, the star I had all the longing,

But the star was not to be seen,

As if it had never been.

 

The star that had once shined,

Not for anyone but for me

I’ll bet this life each second, each hour

For a glimpse of that lonely star.