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“Experiment” – Nayana Nair

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The unopened letters,
the calls never picked,
the feelings cut as a bud,
the door knocks I chose to ignore-
cover my ground in color of hope.
Hope?
Yes, hope.

Like the messed up experiment
of Schrodinger’s fictional pet,
I continue to see hope
till I keep my heart closed.
Are you still there inside me?
Or are you long gone?

I do not need to know.

The replica of this world,
that exists inside my head-
it will stand, it can endure
as long as I do not know
the answers to such question.

“Last Everything” – Nayana Nair

There are bouts of tears,
phone calls,
consolation, advice,
and it ends.

The river stops
and flows again.

There are missed calls, busy tone,
letters never penned,
the sky
that didn’t shatter like glass.

The river stops
and flows again.

There is me,
there is you,
there are our days together
and the days we will never have.

Nothing ends
even if I break.
The river stops
and flows again,
even if I lose
my last breath,
my last love to it.

“Your News” – Nayana Nair

Another happy news
floats in the periphery of my vision.

-x-

Though it holds the love of those
who have found something to love,
something to live for-
it makes me restless.

I want to open these envelopes
and mean it
when i tell you
how happy I am for you,
but I am not.

-x-

I am sorry but I can’t be happy for you
because in your every word
that you have inked with excitement,
I am reminded that
I have never seen these same color in my own life.

When your letters find me,
they find me too broken.
I am sorry, I have lost too much of me already
and can no longer give you anything but empty words.

-x-

Live well dear.
Live your dream far away from me.
It will keep your happiness intact
and my bubble of ignorance unharmed.

-x-

One day
(if ever)
when I am no longer walking in my own darkness,
I will find you
and I will try to be the friend that you deserved to have.
But till then
I can only keep these letters unopened
and my happiness for you undelivered.

“Whale Songs” – Nayana Nair

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My house on hills and it’s silence
are always occupied in a duel
with the wartime echoes from far away lands,
with the agonizing voices of reality.
Even if I surround my house with
the greenest trees,
place cool streams around.
Even if I cloud my windows
with curtains of smoke.
Even if I barter with life,
even if I am ready to embrace
loneliness for the sake of peace.
In my dreams, filled with whale songs,
there are sorrows
of lives I have cut off myself from.
But I am not someone
who can save people from themselves.
I have no choice to burn
the letters,
the newspapers,
to keep myself warm and alive.

“Rose” – Nayana Nair

love-letter

That one rose.
That one letter.
They were not his love,
but his apology.

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/ɛm/ɛn/piː/

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