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Tag Archives: move

“Memorizing Names” – Nayana Nair

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There was no joy to wander,
to pack my bags
with belongings not entirely mine
and to have a bagful of borrowed stuff,
of borrowed time.
Living on the kindness
that I didn’t deserve.
Each new handhake
sounded like
echoes of heartbreak
from the future.
I knew where I was going
and I knew where I was taking them.
And that made me hate this ordeal
of trying to memorize the names
of all these new people
who will be soon forgotten.
My heart was never broken.
My home was never broken.
At least not the type of broken
that can’t be repaired.
I do not have shelter of such excuses.
I chose to stay,
I chose to love
and I chose to move away.
I choose to live with the list of names
to the end
than to see them walk away.

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“Sidestep” – Nayana Nair

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The colors that have drained
from the dreams of people,
lie cluttered on the doorway
of their homes.
Everytime they try to leave
for something more practical
and more safe life, that they chose,
that awaits them everyday
and does not keep them worrying
about what all they can loose.
Everytime they step out,
even in hurry,
they sidestep that clutter.
Look at it from the corner of their eyes
and for a second their heart seems aware
of the frost that is killing it.
For a second the reasons for the
sleepless night and blank gazes is recalled.
But the limbs keep moving
to keep a distance from hopes
that never materialize.
On their way back home
they dread to see
the clutter of discarded dreams.
But they want to believe
that ignoring and forgetting it
becomes easier with time.
Although it never has.

“Words of Hope” – Nayana Nair

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handnotes

There is a soft tune that
moves beneath your fingers
as they move over the pages
and words and worlds
that you will never see.
All the words of hope
that I whisper
to the you
who exists within these barriers
of skin, bones and sorrow.
I fear these words will be like the music
that doesn’t stop but fades,
dissolving into time and distance.
Like that music
it will pass from me to you,
from you to nothingness.

 

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“A LOT LIKE RUNNING”- Nayana Nair

marx7

Boarding that midnight bus

seemed a lot like running.

Just faster and easier.

Less painful for legs and lungs.

Less real than wind on my face

and ground beneath my feet.

It’s just sitting here in comfort

and counting seconds, minutes, days and breaths left.

It’s just looking out,

and knowing a secret.

A secret only my eyes

and occasionally my ears know.

That we are so moving so much faster

without moving an inch.

Like we have changed so much,

without realizing it.

INSPIRE

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valentine kizito

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