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“Eventually” – Nayana Nair

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This jail, that I could not break out of,
it had bars made of petals,
ceilings lighted with memories
and under my feet
the hearts of people beating only by my love
(or so I wanted to believe).
It was the fragile nature of this confinement
that made my escape impossible.
And even though I was a captive-
that small space was also a world,
a less harsher world.

Once I make my way out,
there would be nowhere to return to.
It was a bubble that couldn’t be remade
by regrets and tears.
For many reasons, I promised myself an escape everyday
without even trying to leave.
I know I will leave eventually.
At some point, we all have left those rooms-
that feel like prison when lived in
and feel like unattainable dreams once lost.

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“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.

“One of them” – Nayana Nair

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Slowly I hear
a flood, a riot, a madness of people
rushing towards me.
Their voices turning from
gossiping whispers
to name calling.
Their anger pulling triggers
real and imaginary.
I hear a silence in the world
that looks at me
and tell me a list of things I did wrong
to deserve this.
They look for a reason to forget the existence
of people like me
whose broken pieces remind them
of their own cruelty.

And soon they run to another direction
finding someone to bully.
But many a times, one of them looks back,
helps me get back on my feet.
And now I do not know
how to hate them.
I fear my hate will make me one of them.

“Kinder” – Nayana Nair

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Would people have been more kinder
and affectionate,
if only the world didn’t misunderstand
niceness on a daily basis?
How come we live with such a distorted view
that we are afraid of being good to each other?
From the fear of being judged.
From the fear of being ridiculed.
From the fear of being burdened forever.
From the fear of being taken advantage of.
From the fear of being looked down on.

“Playlist” – Nayana Nair

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I go through my playlist,
looking for all the songs
that like-crazed people
have written for me and
for lonely nights as these.
This voice of stranger that sings my pain
takes me back to this same bed
and same sorrow
somewhere in the past that I want to loose.
Someone sits beside me yet again.
And this weight
is as frightening
as comforting.
To know that the spirits of the nights
that I have killed
are again here,
to take away a friend of theirs.

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On nights like these,
I prefer the company
of sad cries that people call songs,
of walking memories that people call ghost.

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“Who seem to know a lot” – Nayana Nair

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Nothing scares me more than people
who seem to know a lot about world,
who seem to know every answer
to every problem.
Especially when the answer
is that the weight and blame of this
collapsing world
only lies on shoulder of few.
And answers mostly revolve about how
not every one is equal.
I urge those people to make their homes in these
boxes of labels that they use as weapon
against people who were just living their own life
and live their life avoiding any thing
that might break their illusion of self-righteousness.
For that is all they have.
Nothing scares me more
than a person who thinks
what he thinks is best for the world,
who thinks that emotions and lives
are disposable things,
in front of the grand plan he has
for himself and this world that only he supposedly owns.

“Stories about me” – Nayana Nair

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There have been numerous accounts
of my failing life
and the reasons of my silence.
And these stories never cease to surprise me.
From time to time
I find the people in my life
have had a story about me
all along
that even I was not aware of.
Their uncalled kindness
and their uncalled cruelty
all had an explanation.
Explanations that had nothing to do with me.
In everyone’s heart their is someone by my name.
They have put me in colors
when I always was in grays.
I find
I never had a friend.
And I find them lonely
just like me,
when I look at the people
I have colored myself.

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