“Distort You” – Nayana Nair

This one.
This is the photograph I was telling you about the other day.
You see those kids around me,
having broader smile than me
those are the friends I never had.
They will tell you otherwise.
What they tell maybe more hopeful than my lies
or maybe more sadder than my truth.
But I tried my best to magnify my everyday happiness
make fun of how I reacted to all that once hurt,
and leave my sentences hanging
when I couldn’t decide
how to distort another unwanted memory.
I tried my best neutralize my story
so that I won’t look like a lost cause,
like a cause that needs your attention,
that demands your love in the name of humanity.
I never tried to soften your heart
by selling my story
But looking at you,
I think I have ended up doing all the things
I didn’t mean to.

“Leftover” – Nayana Nair

I do not want to continue this-
to harbor, carry around,
give voice to feelings of sympathy
that can never be more than words.
After I have said all the right things
and you have given the correct response,
we feel we have done everything we can
that a good person must do to save the world,
when we are just protecting the leftover
humanity we have in ourselves,
to wear it like a badge
in conversations that can bring no change.
You, me,
our indulgent families, our fun-loving friends,
our irritating neighbours-
have never stepped out of our own lives
never given up on our comforts
unless it is for accumulating some good karma.
We should not be allowed to feel so generous
for saying so much and doing so little.

“STORY” – Nayana Nair

How proud we should be to be human.

How proud indeed.

How civilized we are, to kill each other when given a chance.

How learned we are, to destroy anything that is different from us.

These pages of history that we have left mark on.

and these pages of today that we read each morning.

They tell a story.

Story of the terrors that we put in each other’s heart.

Of the power we feel at the helplessness of others.

Of how we beat humanity out of ourselves and others.

Of how people survive the crimes, that were once not seen as crimes.

Of being drunk on power and false idea of invincibility.

It is not  a story of prejudices and hatred

fueled by differences; promoted personal gains.

They are not isolated incidents of few insane people.

This is a repeated history of everywhere,

Of people who don’t allow other’s to live a life of dignity.

It is  a story of what we are.

Of how quickly we forget.

How calmly we live,

Knowing, but not caring

About hundreds of lives like ours,

being trampled by someone like us.

We humans. How proud indeed we should be.

 

“ANTS”- Nayana Nair

As you all walked

To your homes, to your love

To where the crowd takes you.

With love and hatred

And worries in your minds.

With life still in your veins.

I sat there, up above,

Looking down at you,

Oblivious of me, of him.

Of the knots that tightened

Around his neck each second.

While he saw everyone, even himself

Wrenching away from his grasp

The only life he would ever have.

I looked at him beside me

And looked at you down below.

And wondered whether anyone of you

Will remember his face,

Will know his life.

Maybe your hostile glance

Was the last nail that

Broke open his heart.

Someone like you planted that seed

Of self-hatred in him long ago.

I looked at his cuts and bruises

And thoughts of the nights he wrestled

With his thoughts and deeds

He wouldn’t confide nor confess.

As if he was the ant that was

Crushed beneath your boots.

And I wonder, how many other

Were still getting crushed.

Sitting there on that rooftop

With my friend

With stars above my head

And humanity below.

I saw him fall

Fall down in to the darkness.

And I cried as I lost my friend.

And he cried as he lost himself.