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“If this was Home” – Nayana Nair

There was never a point of time
when I could sit back and say-
“This is home.
This is where I will always be.
No one can take me away from here.
Here is where I am bound to be.”
Because I could never hold onto anything
even when I wanted to.

***

I was always convinced
that there is something very sinister in me
that would be seen, that would show itself
sooner or later,
that I am not all good.
In fact being good is not in my nature,
but just something I carry out
so that people can try to love me,
a behavior I often dropped
when it suited me.

***

But as much as I am repelled my nature
I also end up finding myself pitiful for how I end up alone
and knowing my flaws
doesn’t make me hate myself enough
to stop me from demanding some consolation from my life
for making it so far.
I want to believe that I at least deserve
a small happiness of my own,
if not the joys of entire world.

“For Your Smile” – Nayana Nair

There were far too many things
that I needed to undo
just so I can be someone
who could give you the same joy that
you gave away way to easily
to someone like me.

You were so bright
without me.
Your smiles were so huge
when you were far.
That I had to be blind
to not know that I was not made for you.

But you were so kind in your love for me,
kind even in your suffering
that the scent of your spring
still lingers in me.

It is sad
that I couldn’t give my heart to you.
It is sad
that I am better at giving up than you,
that you are better in finding happiness anywhere you go,
that we change so easily
even when we don’t want to,
even when we believed we won’t.

Proud Blooming

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original

Small Door of a Dream“, Jacob Glatstein

Those trees whose names I never learned
Identify themselves at the window
With their proud blooming.
The night shadows itself
On a small joyous lamp.
A silvered butterfly dances
Into our flickering life
Through light of a dream’s
Last moment.

red-poppies-watercolor-art-print-painting-joanna-szmerdt

“Memorizing Names” – Nayana Nair

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There was no joy to wander,
to pack my bags
with belongings not entirely mine
and to have a bagful of borrowed stuff,
of borrowed time.
Living on the kindness
that I didn’t deserve.
Each new handhake
sounded like
echoes of heartbreak
from the future.
I knew where I was going
and I knew where I was taking them.
And that made me hate this ordeal
of trying to memorize the names
of all these new people
who will be soon forgotten.
My heart was never broken.
My home was never broken.
At least not the type of broken
that can’t be repaired.
I do not have shelter of such excuses.
I chose to stay,
I chose to love
and I chose to move away.
I choose to live with the list of names
to the end
than to see them walk away.

“Bubble” – Nayana Nair

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bubbles-wallpaper-45

There is so much
that the world doesn’t care for.
If we were to care for every thing that
has caused pain to every person,
we may never have been able to live happily
ever in our life.
And there would be a black fog
of borrowed sadness, that will be
the only thing we breathe.
We may cry a few tears of sympathy,
but after those few minutes
we live our life, as we have done till now.
It’s the only thing we can do.
Though it may seem selfish,
but I guess it is both tragic and good
that the cries and scream of this world
never break through
the bubble of our own happiness.
And our own sadness and joy
is bound by our own bubble.

“Won’t you?”- Nayana Nair

o-teens-holding-hands-facebook.jpg

I have nothing to talk to you,

my friend.

I have hundred things that make me cry at this moment.

There are moments in my life that fill me with joy,

that makes my life seem worth living,

that you do not know of .

6

But I have nothing to say to you.

You are still my friend,

but I feel we exist in different world.

My world consists of only me.

And your world has no place

for the silence that I speak in.

6

But I can’t tell you that.

I don’t want to lose you.

You may not know me now.

I may not know you too.

We are holding he hands of our past selves.

But you know it already,

don’t you?

But love me still, like I love you.

Won’t you?

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