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“What I Remember (15)” – Nayana Nair

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I think of the clothes that are too tight or too loose for me,
of my skin that doesn’t like me the way it used to.
How the mirrors in my home are hidden
by the growing towers of books.
I wonder what this says about me?
I think of the fear that I feel when I am alone,
the fear that I feel when I walk into happiness.
I think of the kinds of fear that fill my heart.
I count them for a long time
but nothing happens when I finish counting.
I wonder if knowing myself
is really the first step to solving my life.
Do I want anything to be solved?
I count the people that who no longer speak to me
and half way through I remember
that it was me who had thrown them away first.
Silence is my weapon, not theirs.
I realize I need to always hold a grudge against someone
to live with strength.
I wonder when this strength became so important to me.
I wonder when this love that felt like a lemonade in summer
actually became a commercialized product
with an expiry date stamped on it
before it even reaches our hands.
I think of my skin by which I am stuck to a world like this.
I wonder why I pretend to be better than this world by saying such stuff?
Why am I so into acting all deep and philosophical?
I wonder why I love to call myself broken even though I hate to be seen so?
Don’t misunderstand me.
I do not want answers.
Answers are painful and pointless,
answers are a tasteless end
to the struggle that otherwise makes my heart bleed colors.

“Missing and wanting what lies forgotten” – Nayana Nair

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For long I have lived
avoiding a lot in life.
The sting of disappointment.
The pointless chatter that becomes
noise, laughter,
a habit. A lovely company.
The colors that didn’t suit me,
colors that I loved just the same.

But now I miss the life in my heart
and the pain that made skies and stars more bright,
that made earth more warm, and love more necessary.

Now I want to dream of happiness again.

“Flowering Trees” – Nayana Nair

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Looking at the flowering trees
across the road,
I was thinking about life and loneliness.
How pointless everything is.
How shallow our lives.
And I missed my bus.
And I realized
maybe
the same way
I may have missed a lot in life
and not known.
Maybe I thought too much
And felt too little.

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