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“Backseat” – Nayana Nair

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we get onto the car
that we wish was stolen
i look at her (not my lover, yet),
at him (my friend – we share the same passion
of finding new things to be disappointed about),
i look at the the small bags we have packed
and realize that this is far too less to start a life
i count them as i get in
i realize one of us probably
has nothing worth carrying around in life.

she keeps telling me that unlike us
she has to take care of things
so she is bound to be late
she says this while she texts the food preferences
of her beloved pet
to someone who owes her one
(i feel something similar to jealousy seeing this).

and he keeps changing the radio station
as if he knows what he is looking for,
as if he has grown up on radio songs and commercials,
but he hasn’t.
he says that is what makes it more romantic,
the unknown that was always in front of you
to finally acknowledge something
that shouldn’t have been invisible from the start.

i just look at them, making mental notes,
calculating the chances that we might come to our senses
(that would be pretty sad, if that happens).
i keep looking back
as if i was being abducted,
dragged out of heaven against my wishes.
but it is no heaven
(not anymore).

so i sleep in the backseat
hiding my tears under the blanket of darkness-
since i do not want to recall every thing
that made this place and my body unholy, unbearable;
since i don’t want ask these two
about what they are running away from.
i wonder if i will ever know a home
that won’t drive me away.

“Inviting the Gray Life” – Nayana Nair

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My memories of deprivation,
of yearning
are placed in,
are shot
with the background of
aesthetic picturesque urban structures,
with the clear skies
that only peace or money can paint.

***

How sad
that I feel the need to break down
in grander messed up place and time-
to make this loss real,
to make myself real,
to shed this one tear
that my body refuses to part with.

“What I Remember (16)” – Nayana Nair

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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

“I have nothing of you” – Nayana Nair

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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.

“All the crowded corners of me” – Nayana Nair

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I learned another new word today.
It describes nothing in my life
but still I keep it under my tongue.
I stuff into corners of my lungs
that have never known what air is.

cerulean
I find this word tangled in my ribs,
crying over my skin,
trying to escape me,
to find a better place,
a better someone to describe.

My heart again becomes a shackle
for everything
that is beautiful.

“Another Dream” – Nayana Nair

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The world is still blue,
but blue looks so beautiful today.
Today there is no better you or better me
that haunts us in our happy moments.
So you can plan your solo journey on your old map
while I get ready for my work.
Let’s mark date on calendar, a place on earth
where we can return if the life and dreams get tough.
Let’s see the world for what it is.
Let’s become what we are meant to be.
I do not want to be your anchor dear,
I want to be your sail, your another dream.

“Ending the Blue Days” – Nayana Nair

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as i walk among all that should be ruins, i feel humbled. i feel stupid to think that these small sorrows of mine are something that could end this world.

i find another overused word on my lips again – promises. they remind me of promises. they remind of having something more important than ones own life. what does it even feel like to have something like that? do i even want to know?

i wonder who dreamed of a place like this, where all the birds seem to be running away from same things as me.

here, maybe here, i could forget all that i shouldn’t forget. here, maybe here is where my endless toil, my yearning meant to take me. this is good place to end, to kill my love for this world, to kill the hate i have for myself.

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