RSS Feed

Tag Archives: life

“Moments with a Cold Sun” – Nayana Nair

Posted on

With each day crossed out.
With each dresses, each mask added to the my wardrobe.
With each hand that passed into mine,
with each hand that moved onto the next too easily,
I realized I knew how to dance to this tune
that used to frighten me once.

Another stranger,
another potential lover,
another sun that has already grown cold,
whispers in my ears – words I do understand.

I search for a harmless smile in my bag.
I hang it carefully on my face.
I turn myself into a gift,
into a substitute of love
for this person –
who is dying like me,
waiting like me,
for something, anything
to fill the time left.

“A Beautiful Bird” – Nayana Nair

Posted on

From my broken heart
comes out another bird.
Ignoring me, abandoning me
it flies beautifully, cruelly
into another world
away from me
and something feels a little less in me.
I am not complaining.
I always wanted to feel a little less.
I was glad that in some way a part of me
is finally free from me,
that some part of me could finally breathe.

“bedtime stories of what you used to be” – Nayana Nair

Posted on

Even as I want to cut out your stories from my skin,
even as I want to walk away from what you will always be,
I end up recalling all the time
you tried to be better than what you are.
When without any calculations,
without the thought of consequences,
without even knowing it yourself
you placed my broken body in your heart
and tried to do anything,
say anything that could make me feel better.
How sincere your words felt to me,
you’d never know.
And that’s why I stay
so that you may know
how you have held me together with your love.

Now that you are breaking,
now that your cracks are the only things I see,
now when I feel nothing like love for you,
I want to be better than what I am.
So even though I feel like crying every time I see you like this
and feel wronged by this life from time to time.
But it seems you are the one thing in my life
that I cannot run away from, even when I want to.

“What I Remember (16)” – Nayana Nair

Posted on

you
and me

you
and the me that i was, that you hated once, but not as much what i am right now

you
and your rough sketch of me that looks like bits and pieces of your past lovers

you
and your ticking clock, both waiting for me to change

you
and you habit of making me wait, of walking out on me

you
and your empty seat that you have already forgotten

you
with your air of arrogance that i pretend not to see for the sake of loving you

you
and your smile that sometimes (most of the times) have nothing to do with me

you
and your calls out of blue, calling me love, calling me heartless, throwing me away and calling me back,

you
and your words, your voice always asking for more

you
and your insistence of loving in past and hating in present

you
and your love that wants never to be associated with me

you
and your cruelty of always forgetting (only) me, forgetting the hurt you cause

you
asking me to love you back in spite of all, asking me to speak only in sweet words, never asking me how i made it through the pain you gave me last time, never wondering what do i want out of this love, that has no place for me

“easy way” – Nayana Nair

Posted on

the easiest way to live,
the one that hurt the least
was to believe
that something is wrong
with me.

“I have nothing of you” – Nayana Nair

Posted on

I walked into troubles, into fogged minds,
into friend circles that cultivated their alter egos
on every meager piece of earth
that they otherwise couldn’t plant their feet upon.

I walked into crumbling cities, into impossible dreams,
into the lifeless replicas of your heart-
hoping you would come after me.
But as time ate me up
I just hoped that you’d remember name at the least.

I wish that you had stepped a little closer to me,
given me false hope, and broken my heart.
but I have nothing of you,
nothing to hate you for,
nothing to remember your love by,
except the empty place I made for you to stay in me
– the only part of me that makes living difficult for me.

“What I Remember (15)” – Nayana Nair

Posted on

I think of the clothes that are too tight or too loose for me,
of my skin that doesn’t like me the way it used to.
How the mirrors in my home are hidden
by the growing towers of books.
I wonder what this says about me?
I think of the fear that I feel when I am alone,
the fear that I feel when I walk into happiness.
I think of the kinds of fear that fill my heart.
I count them for a long time
but nothing happens when I finish counting.
I wonder if knowing myself
is really the first step to solving my life.
Do I want anything to be solved?
I count the people that who no longer speak to me
and half way through I remember
that it was me who had thrown them away first.
Silence is my weapon, not theirs.
I realize I need to always hold a grudge against someone
to live with strength.
I wonder when this strength became so important to me.
I wonder when this love that felt like a lemonade in summer
actually became a commercialized product
with an expiry date stamped on it
before it even reaches our hands.
I think of my skin by which I am stuck to a world like this.
I wonder why I pretend to be better than this world by saying such stuff?
Why am I so into acting all deep and philosophical?
I wonder why I love to call myself broken even though I hate to be seen so?
Don’t misunderstand me.
I do not want answers.
Answers are painful and pointless,
answers a tasteless end
to the struggle that otherwise makes my heart bleed colors.

Park Bench Tales and other writings

Thoughts and writings reflecting the poet within and the activist

Pix to Words

Photographically Inspired Writing

Il Canto delle Muse

La cosa importante è di non smettere mai di interrogarsi. La curiosità esiste per ragioni proprie. Non si può fare a meno di provare riverenza quando si osservano i misteri dell'eternità, della vita, la meravigliosa struttura della realtà. Basta cercare ogni giorno di capire un po' il mistero. Non perdere mai una sacra curiosità. ( Albert Einstein )

Cichy zakątek poezji

Miłość nie istnieje w sobie, ale w nas, jest naszym osobistym dziełem. " - Marcel Proust

La poesía, eso decían

Como plasmar la idea natural.

/ɛm/ɛn/piː/

- MyNewPerspective ... seeing the world through different eyes -

Poesíainstante

Personal e íntimo

Something to Ponder About

Lifestyle, Travel, Traditional Art and Community

Tittle Thoughts

Discussions on life influences and travels

Colțul Cultural

repaus cu cap

RyanPhotography

Images brought to you by Bren and Ashley Ryan

Yelling Rosan Blogi

Sanoja, kuvia, ääniä

littleblackdogsa

We Blog Here!!

breezes at dawn

the breezes at dawn have secrets to tell you... ~ Rumi

Tialys

Life and Creativity in the South of France

Giving Voice to My Astonishment

Observing, Gathering, Gleaning, Sharing

Gardening Nirvana

Sharing my journey in and out of the garden

Wild Daffodil

the joy of creativity

arlingwords

Gardens, food, and local pleasures