“The sky is your canvas”,the book to all ailments said,“there is a joy in filling it up with life.”But as I finished my 157th sketch,as I finished my 300th one,as I finished the one with no count attached(the one I called “the limits that were stronger than me”),as I write over all that I hadContinue reading ““Even when things are right” – Nayana Nair”
His face lit upwith the death of every colorful explosion in the sky.He hates this sky on other days(among other things).Today he loves it, this darkness,this crowd, even me.(Maybe not me,but it doesn’t mean anything to me now.But in moments like thisI am reminded of the “me” who would have wanted his loveor at leastContinue reading ““Living some sort of life” – Nayana Nair”
i looked best dressed in incoherent words.everyone assumed that i am drunk on something.everyone assumed me to be an artist for that. any word that left my mouthwas just another way to pronounce self-doubt.the only way to stay and run away at the same time. the way i speak,“you are beautiful” and “i hate you”soundsContinue reading ““incoherent” – Nayana Nair”
Hand me back my fear. Remove all signs of caution. Anyway, I am dying slowly. I don’t want to know more. I don’t want to know better. Come into my mind. Here there is no better. There are only picture frames that do not break even when they have lost the images they lived for.Continue reading ““Remaining Life” – Nayana Nair”
I am fed up of trying to find signs and proofs, begging for reassurance from strangers that I am somehow special, that I matter.