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“Collecting Meaning and Beauty” – Nayana Nair

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I am stacked with all that belongs to you
and nothing that you have feels yours.
It is as if you were busy finding things
that didn’t look like you
and hoped that if you surrounded yourself
with all kinds of right
then your fault that people talk about
could find a mirror to fix its face.
Or maybe
you just wanted to welcome everyone in this mess,
like you welcomed me,
and leave us in this ocean of objects and words
of overwhelming meaning and beauty.
So that after an absence of million years
that ticking clock forgot to register,
when you come back to find us
and ask us how we take our tea,
we could see your meaningless broken smile
as the only hand that can save us from
losing our sense of self,
losing the idea of what we are
that we had barely put together a downfall ago.

“How I Leave” – Nayana Nair

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We will look at the stars
sitting in this rundown world
and pretend that the cries we hear
and the ones that escape from our mouth
is the music and the beauty we created.
We will rewrite the meaning
of the light we see
so no one else has to be burdened with sorrow,
no one is filled with pity
when they take our words in their mouth.
We will look at stars
and we will loose our voice
but as the world turns silent again,
all that is left would be the words of hope
I could never believe myself
but that’s what I want to gift.
That is how I want to leave.

“Loose me in a storm” – Nayana Nair

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The paint will flow onto these papers
that have been starved of purpose and meaning for long,
and they will loose themselves in the meaning
and they can be never written on again.
Look at this meaningless morning
in hours that don’t need to be filled.
Hold my hands one last time
before you give me a name, a meaning
and loose me in a storm of expectations.
Look into my eyes and I will do the same
let’s give each other a memory of light
to search for and suffer for in that storm.

“More Boxes” – Nayana Nair

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Everyday I buy more boxes and more trunks,
to stow away the harmless opinions and stories of mine
that have never left my mouth,
and have never known
how the cold air of this world feels like.
They are better off not knowing
how they are going to be broken and crushed
till nothing of them is left.
Let them die in the voiceless trunks.
At least a corpse of what they were
and the soul of what they lost
shall be locked in the same walls.
That’s the only kindness I am capable of delievering-
to spare them the purity of meaning
and dignity of thought
that was never put to question
and never put to shame
by this world
that to everyone does the same.

“Closest” – Nayana Nair

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The cracking ground I kneeled on for answers
have become riverbeds where I’ll drown,
have become
the reason of my tears,
the reason of my broken voice
that travels along the lines
of the words I mutter
without knowing,
without meaning anything more
than to put my mouth into use.
I scratch the walls of the dreams I once painted
till the petals of colors cover my ground
only to reveal a the nightmare of empty hands.
I hold the petals, the chipped away paint
and feel the closest to my dream,
the closest I will ever be.

“Far too valuable” – Nayana Nair

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My plate
and my half eaten meal,
they remind you of all the times
when I have wasted things, far too valuable.
The trinkets that I treasure.
The coins that cannot buy anything.
The souvenirs that have lost meaning,
the people without memories.
This city in my mind,
I keep alive by not breathing.
You wonder how I became like this.
I wonder how can I be anything but this.

“Beauty” – Nayana Nair

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Here on this paper
my lies have no meaning,
no purpose,
no responsibilty of the aftermath,
no hearts broken.
Here, lies can be cherished
for the beauty they are.

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