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“Greater Good” – Nayana Nair

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The trees are alive today.
They ask me to sing them to sleep for the last time.
I sing for hours
but they refuse to close their eyes.

They ask me how I have been,
not waiting for my answer,
in one breath they ask
about the words they don’t understand,
ask me about the days I do not remember anything about
(there are so many days I have no memory of
while I can’t forget the days I really want to forget),
about the rain that has left us long ago.

Their love for this world that they do not understand-
makes me jealous,
makes me wonder,
if I could love also this world as much as I want to
if I knew a little less,
if I gave up this human heart
that knows nothing but to steal and plead,
to take away and bleed.
But if I knew how to give up myself
for my greater good,
I would have done so long ago.

I can only stay selfish,
act better than what I am,
sing songs to the trees
that will soon be killed for my sake.

“Well-being” – Nayana Nair

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You ask after my well being
and I answer something along the lines
of what you have heard before,
an affirmation to the answer you want to hear.
You must have heard it enough times
to know it to be false.
You must have heard it enough times
to know that it doesn’t matter.
You have heard it enough
to realize that there is no point in asking
but we must keep up appearances.
Those who are drifting away
and those who are at shore
must act as if they can still see each other,
must act like humans who care deep inside.
And believe that caring deep inside is enough,
that being sad inside is fine.

“Co-exist” – Nayana Nair

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While the rest of the rooms
were sleeping in cold,
cradling the mere humans
who could only do so much
as to ignore the present,
dreaming of summers,
that which in their deepest heart
they had no much love for either.
But mind has always been
a place to escape to,
when we were not escaping from problems
but from our self.

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I sat at
the dark narrow stairs,
that led to nowhere particular,
that were almost always flooded with light.
I was lucky to have had that.
To have a place where
the fresh rays of cold sun
and my warm agitated heart
coud co-exit,
without destroying each other.
I could only do so much
as to forget myself and my life
feel what cold is,
to know I was (un)lucky to have this.
To have so much comforts
that I cannot complain of my pain.
But irrespective of these comforts
I would still rot away.

“STORY” – Nayana Nair

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Violence

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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