RSS Feed

Tag Archives: meaning

“What I Remember(5)” – Nayana Nair

No it is not an escape anymore
because
it is not only me
who is into these addictions of milder kind.
All I want is what everyone already has.
Don’t worry these books and music I get high on
don’t alter my perception of reality
like they used to before.
So I am fine with irrelevant goals of
having one more book to read, one more page to fill up,
and some hours to sit and stare at screens of literature of a cruder form.
They may not constitute the real meaning of life.
But I have not seen anyone who is particularly worried
about missing the real point of life.

. . .   .   .     . 

I know this consumerism and media culture irritates you.
That I look like one of the thousands who sit and demand
to be entertained, to be fed with something other than
the reality of insufficient time and cash.
Would it make me more real, would your gaze become more softer
if I bring up a portion of my life where I was hurt by this world,
when the reality didn’t change just because of my disappointment in it.
That not everyone can be one with the nature and one with society,
when nature is far away from where we are locked,
when society is all about waiting for someone else
to mess up on a grander scale than us.
See that is what I don’t want to talk about.
It is depressing enough to live it.
We can either discuss about how I almost found friend in a fictional character,
found a mirror or even a window in another,
how I do not agree with most reviews,
how I couldn’t get the tragic end of the story out my head.

. . .   .   .     . 

I don’t mind sitting in front immaculate shows of lies
if that is where the my temporary relief of my life is hidden,
at least we are entitled to that much – relief.

“Collecting Meaning and Beauty” – Nayana Nair

ffffound

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

WellwornSpectacularHogget

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

Posted on

tumblr_static_filename_640_v2

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

Posted on

ffkmffke

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

Posted on

Blue-Peeling-Paint-Stock

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

tumblr_static_tumblr_static_2edb6s958vi8skw48gwwk8880_640

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.

The World according to Dina

Notes on Seeing, Reading & Writing, Living & Loving in The North

Sosparkly Design

Peace, zen, beauty, nature, gardens, quirky - Sosparkly Design...

P.A. Moed

Creative Exploration in Words and Pictures

in cahoots with muddy boots

Cooking, gardening, traveling and photographing around the globe

Adventures in Wonderland

a pilgrimage of the heart

Her mourning coffee

heart ripped out via the throat

Travel Adventure Discover

Join me on my next adventure...

Trekking Tunes

Melodies in Motion

Francisco Goncalves - Photographer

La fotografía es la mejor compañía de las historias

/ EXPERIENCE OF THINKING / EXPÉRIENCE DE PENSÉE / ESPERIENZA DI PENSIERO /

The world is everything that is the case. --- Ludwig Wittgenstein.

Fotografías

José Luis Gutiérrez A.

Debs hiking Journey

bushwalking and hiking Australia

twobrownfeet

Stories about life -- on and off the road.

invadercee

Ramblings of a Melburnian

Woobie Ruby's Adventures of Life

Stash of experience of life and other random things.

Brandewijn Words

My Liquid Writings

Jane Dougherty Writes

About fantastical places and other stuff