“This ground that we stand upon” – Nayana Nair

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Dear &^%$,

Have you found a way
to leave everything
that you call your ground-
your ground of anger,
of rusting armour of indifference,
of the trauma the heartless giants planted in your heart,
the compass that shows all the wrong directions
and always takes you to the nearest cliff, again and again.
Have you found a way to be better, to live better?
I haven’t yet.

Yesterday I listened to a stranger talk for hours
about how it can be done,
how it will end when we want it to.
It made me wonder if maybe we are not yet ready
for this groundless life.
Maybe that is our only issue.

All that can save us is so temporary, so transient.
Yet the thing that ruins us, is ours to keep-
not like the sun, but like the demon that needs our skin to live.
I wonder if we just need to be needed that badly.
Is that why we choose to cry than to change?
Is that why we choose to hold onto the wave that is drowning us-
just because it is here, because it is ours till it kills us.
Among many other things I also wonder what made us like this.
To be honest I am afraid to know.

What are you afraid of today?
Do let me know.

Yours,
$%^&

“IMAGES”- Nayana Nair

(Image taken from pigarot.deviantart.com)

As I glance through the photos, those images,

That I have kept secure in my dairy’s pages.

I point to an image and exclaim “That’s me!!”,

An image which shows what I used to be.

A captured image, the moment of joys,

A point in the past when I had a choice.

Innocence of face and equally of heart,

That innocence in itself was a work of art.

That happiness, that joy, that freedom of mind,

And many more things I’ve left behind.

And surrounding me were genuine smile,

No knowledge of etiquettes, no care for style.

But now the person in the mirror is no longer me,

I look for my footsteps that have been washed away by the sea.

A feeling as if I’ve lost a part of me in the dark alleys I came from,

A feeling of hatred against the person I’ve become.

I search for myself in the ruins of the past,

In the shadows of images that won’t ever last.