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“The More I Hear” – Nayana Nair

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The songs buzz in my head.
It’s only your voice in that song this time
that stops me from moving away.
This noise again
that feels like love.
For I have already been acquainted with it
in another sweet disaster,
when someone told me
I was worth more than what I think of.
And many have said the same to me
when their actions told me otherwise.
And the more I hear it
the more cheaper these words become.
I can probably buy them from the same shop
that sold me self-hatred,
that sold me shame.
If I earned enough good points in your eyes
maybe then I can finally afford everything
that others have and I don’t.
Then maybe I will no longer have to live my life
ignoring the contempt in everyone’s eyes
that silently tells me that
it is my fault to be someone they do not like.

“Work Hard” – Nayana Nair

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We could never see each other properly
because we busy working hard,
trying day and night
to become something the other wants.
Or at least something that can’t be rejected on face
or fall short of this friendship
that we could never be sure of.
We worked equally hard
to ignore when we saw a crack in each other’s mask,
to ignore the words spoken out of character.
Somewhere we were too hollow, too materialistic, too demanding.
And we knew it was wrong.
We knew we had no right to demand.
We knew we were cruel and we knew we would be forgiven.
If not now, then someday.
Is it possible to love someone in spite of being so wrong?
Is it possible to use such pure words for a transaction gone wrong?

“Receding Waves” – Nayana Nair

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The thought of you
walking down to me
and speaking to me as if speaking to a child,
as if speaking to one with disability of understanding only your words.
It brings me to an ocean of receding waves and words
where we could have walked every morning,
we could have found a way to love our water bodies
without waiting for it become tears.

~~~
But you keep coming to me.
One step
~we could think of all names and fates we could have had instead~
Two step
~we could play a game of guessing the memories that ruined us for each other~
Almost near my shaking hands
asking me to stop.
To stop thinking of these painful scenarios
~painful?~
To stop ignoring the one who is asking his leave
~where?~

~~~

I wish I could no longer hear you voice.
I wish I stopped hurting.
I wish my stars would hurry up
and bring me the death they promised long ago.
~all along i thought it was you~

~~~

I wish I could continue this dream with someone else
and never notice the one who walks beside me
loves me too much to be you.

“Count the Roads” – Nayana Nair

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I didn’t see her pack her bag
but I knew it was definitely hers,
from the way she could drag it with such an ease.
The same ease with which
she dragged most things in her life.
Her face twisted and moved
till it found that smile
that said, “Ignore me, I’m happy”.
As she hailed her taxi,
I tried to count the days it would take
for me to give up too.
I counted the roads that must pass
before we do not have to think
about the depleting years in our hand
and lonely dreams in our diminishing vision.

“Out of Frame” – Nayana Nair

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My pictures are not about me
they are just replacable frames
filled with the skin I have shed
filled with people who have left
and with my smile that has changed
beyond recognition.
So I can’t help but look at them
and picture the happy life
this person must have had
when I know it is otherwise.
I have lost track of my memories
I have lost track of the reasons
for why I lived my life like that.
I have a fading list of afflictions
and its pain that I have learned
to live with or ignore.
As I age, I find
I can almost forget,
I can leave behind
whoever I was out of frame.

“My Liberation” – Nayana Nair

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The first half of my life
was spent following the lines drawn by other
and second half spent on searching and choosing
the people who will draw those lines for me.
My liberation didn’t come as a cloudburst
but only as shower.
It only came as the the control of smaller
insignificant parts of greater machinery of life
that continues to  ignore my wish and my will.

“Sidestep” – Nayana Nair

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The colors that have drained
from the dreams of people,
lie cluttered on the doorway
of their homes.
Everytime they try to leave
for something more practical
and more safe life, that they chose,
that awaits them everyday
and does not keep them worrying
about what all they can loose.
Everytime they step out,
even in hurry,
they sidestep that clutter.
Look at it from the corner of their eyes
and for a second their heart seems aware
of the frost that is killing it.
For a second the reasons for the
sleepless night and blank gazes is recalled.
But the limbs keep moving
to keep a distance from hopes
that never materialize.
On their way back home
they dread to see
the clutter of discarded dreams.
But they want to believe
that ignoring and forgetting it
becomes easier with time.
Although it never has.

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