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“Cruel” – Nayana Nair

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I always had a sense of entitlement
when it came to dreaming of a lover.
That there would be someone
who puts me first.
But I realized with time
sometimes you have to be that someone
who puts others first.
That was such a terrifying and distressing thought.
And suddenly all these heroes
became somewhat out-of-the-world, larger-than-life
someone I can never be.

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To realize the pain
it must have taken
to scrap down their lives
for the sake of a person
whose love can’t be trusted or guaranteed.
How one must endure their own foolishness.
How one must look away from our own self.
Knowing all the while
that all this, built
by sacrifices,
can be broken in no time
with one word of hers,
that can end your suffering
and renew your struggle.
That there is no way out.
To cling
or to leave.
And to suffer each minute
no matter what you choose.

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It seemed so tiring
It seemed so cruel
to ask someone for that.

“A sleep so light” – Nayana Nair

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There is a sleep so light
that it rests upon my brow
ever so careful no to slip into my eyes
and I hear its laughter
on my thoughts that have no meaning
or reason
And when it notices
my tears
it takes pity on me
and holds my eyelids down
with the weight of its love
That’s how morning comes
and finds me,
clinging to the sleep,
clinging to the life,
that will soon leave me.

“Flower” – Nayana Nair

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I pluck one leaf at a time
from this flower, this script
my life is.
I throw them from bridges
on cold evenings.
I bury them in the soil
that soils their print with time.
I burn them to ashes,
so they won’t smell the same.
I hang them on trees
that will never bear fruits.
To leave this story of mine
everywhere and nowhere.
So that you may find it.
So that you may not find it.
But
I wear the last page, last leaf
with only one word, you name, written,
on my finger
as substitute for you hands
that I can no longer hold.

“Midnight Call” – Nayana Nair

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There is somewhat
a hesitancy in me
to I pick up the call
at midnight.
The ring sounds different.
It has a shaky sound
immitating the hands
that must be struggling to hold
phone in the very hand
through which countries of stories
have slipped into darkness.
Leaving behind
this person
who must feel like a character
who has lost his story.
And I am afraid
I can’t offer him
the words that can build up his life back,
that can calm his chaotic breathing,
and shuddering heart.
I can’t do it.
Because I was once on the other side
and my hands are still shaking.
I turn around in my bed all night
trying to reassure the only heart
that I can heal.

“People” – Nayana Nair

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I long yearned for
someone to understand me,
accept me.
Is that what they call friends?
I too had such friends.
I yearned for
someone to adore me.
I believed it was love.
And now since I had my share of both,
I wish I could be alone,
I could be free.
For I know the constraint people are.
That love ties you up,
puts you in prison,
that stands
even after they leave.

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Here

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Nobody wants to be here and nobody wants to leave.

― Cormac McCarthy

“Every time”- Nayana Nair

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Every time I left a place,
running late to catch my train,
with so much luggage
which made me wonder
do I really own so much
and wondered why
I thought I had nothing
or maybe someone always had
something more than me.
Every time I left
it was with so much haste
and panic,
always afraid of leaving something behind.
There were so many places like this
which I found and left,
with so much ease,
with no emotions to account for.
The only thing I remember is
how it rained,
every time I left.

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