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“Dreams of Past” – Nayana Nair

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He sat down and decided to write a list
of all the things he had lost.
He decided to look for them.
He decided to find them
the same way the dreams of past had found him.
He put his pen down
and stared at the wall ahead,
stared till his eyes would hurt
as much as his heart does.
He cried whole night
for he couldn’t remember
even one thing that he had lost
and couldn’t understand
why the shelves in his heart
were empty.
He didn’t know how to search for them.
He didn’t know where to start.

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“One of them” – Nayana Nair

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Slowly I hear
a flood, a riot, a madness of people
rushing towards me.
Their voices turning from
gossiping whispers
to name calling.
Their anger pulling triggers
real and imaginary.
I hear a silence in the world
that looks at me
and tell me a list of things I did wrong
to deserve this.
They look for a reason to forget the existence
of people like me
whose broken pieces remind them
of their own cruelty.

And soon they run to another direction
finding someone to bully.
But many a times, one of them looks back,
helps me get back on my feet.
And now I do not know
how to hate them.
I fear my hate will make me one of them.

“Kinder” – Nayana Nair

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Would people have been more kinder
and affectionate,
if only the world didn’t misunderstand
niceness on a daily basis?
How come we live with such a distorted view
that we are afraid of being good to each other?
From the fear of being judged.
From the fear of being ridiculed.
From the fear of being burdened forever.
From the fear of being taken advantage of.
From the fear of being looked down on.

“Growing Up” – Nayana Nair

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Growing up
we become closer to the person we are not.
How shallow the facade of maturity is.
How fragile the moments when we feel a human,
how quickly they are lost.
How we grapple at the loose ends of what’s left behind.
How we ask ourselves questions
and write about person in the mirror.
How everything we want
is already in past
and everything in future
is just a compromise.

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“Undone” – Nayana Nair

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The world drips down.
One drop at time.
Dragging and blurring
the colors
that marks the edges
that separate all of us.
A drop too heavy,
a drop too light.
And as it splatters
into smaller drops.

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My love and my peace
are droplets fallen far apart.
My happiness and my people,
my dreams and my courage,
exist in different planes,
different moments
confusing me
of what I am,
of what should I choose to be.

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And there falls another drop
and someone else
also gets to know,
what it means to be undone
and scattered.
And how beautiful it was
that a droplet of you pain
fell on my droplet of love.
How beautiful,
that a new world was colored
in the drops of the one destroyed.

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