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“Let me sell you a story” – Nayana Nair

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Let me sell you a story.
A lie
that my hollow life could live in.
A home that can be changed to my need.
A reality that never exists,
but is as real as
the stories,
the lives
that we avoided by one choice.
Let me sell you a story,
let me sell you my dreams.
I have no need for them anyway.

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“Home” – Nayana Nair

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I will give you a list houses
that once used to be my home
and addresses that are the only memory
that has not been blurred
or manipulated by my mind.
If you ever want to find me,
go there.

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You will see the line of trees that
framed my sunrise
and almost dry riversbeds of
round white stones, where
I slipped once (or more).
You will see the duststorms,
and the heavy rains
I stood in.
You will see the the intersections,
I could never quite cross.
But all this you see,
is not me.

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If you want to find the ‘me’,
‘me’ that I do not know of,
that I cannot give you,
go there.
And look for windows I sat by.
Look for the cold floor I lied on.
Sit there and think of a girl
who never felt quite like a person,
who could look at what lay ahead
and know
that neither the path, nor the journey was hers.
Who only wanted a room flooded with
gentle light of drowning sun,
and songs that could make her sadness beautiful.

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“Pretence” – Nayana Nair

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There is a pretence to you
that sends me into panic,
that makes me conjure up lies
that could match your magnificence.

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“Going back in time” – Nayana Nair

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There could never be a time for us.
We could never ask the question
we never thought of.
We could never bring up a spring of love
in our dry hearts.
And going back in time
makes no difference.
We would always be what we are
anything contrary to that,
anything against our very own nature,
makes us no less than a living lie.
Will that be still counted as love?
There would never be a right time
in the past that is already made
and nor in lives
that had no space for it anyways

“I want you to lie” – Nayana Nair

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Remember the flowers
with nameless existence
and the shade of kindness
in which we found hope
in our self
and in this world.
Remember why
we forgot sometimes
where we are headed.
Because we had nothing to find,
nothing to gain,
no one to wait for us
at the end of this road.
But now that we are here.
Now that you have finally reached your home.
I want you to turn around
I want you to lie.
I want you to say
that probably we are lost.

“Fire Drill” – Nayana Nair

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Yesterday the fire alarm rang.
We pretended to run
even though we knew of this lie.
Cause we were convinced
this will keep us alive,
when (if) our worst fear
(out of so many)
became reality.

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And in the open
where it was supposed to be safe
(as if any place in this world is safe)
when it started to drizzle,
people just wanted to run to a shelter.
Even if it meant taking refuge
in the building they ran away from
with fake fire.

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And so like always,
like all of us,
they ran from one place to another,
one fear to another.
And I realized I was too tired to run now.
Running from fire,
running from rain,
running from commitments,
running from love,
running from myself.
I was too tired.
Aren’t you?

“I have an Idea” -Nayana Nair

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I have an idea of Myself.

And how often, in the unregistered intervals of time,

When thoughts of world avoided me

with as much  fervor as I avoid this world.

I think of what I am,

I realize that of all the people I have deceived,

the one I fooled with perfection was myself.

When I see what I do not want to,

my mind desperately grabs onto a stray thought,

to distract me from understanding

Of what I am about to realize.

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But I know this game too well

and this is not a secret that I have uncovered

for the first time in life.

It is what I half-remember in all my waking hours

and all that I know of in my sleep.

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I know this lie, I have been telling myself.

But today is not the day,

to shatter my Idea of Me

with one cruel realization.

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The day, when it comes,

shall be the last I breathe as me.

For I cherish this Idea

more than myself.

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