RSS Feed

Tag Archives: sing

“How people live” – Nayana Nair

I sat there crying.

It hurt to know,
how people live,
how they smile,
how they could look at each other,
how they felt welcome wherever they went,
how they could sing along
and not be reminded of all the sadness
that song carried in itself.
How my desolate riverside
was their ‘beautiful view’,
their ‘venue for celebration’.

I saw it and cried
for I realized
that this life could never be mine.
I cried because I realized
something must be wrong with me
to not want this life.
I cried because I couldn’t understand
how to set things right.

“Weeds of our Garden” – Nayana Nair

We sit here all day, in our own corners.
The only corner that we could save from the world that we left.
The only piece of happiness we decided to carry on ourselves
because we didn’t wanted to be considered pitiful for clinging to something.
Because once we thought that feelings such as these are only hindrance.
Because we saw love as lint on our fine clothing,
something that should be removed like weeds from the garden of our ambition.
Believed that if we are enough, if we have enough
we can always find new friends and new love.

***

In the wind, there always used to be a rumor of someone
drunk on past, the one who used to shout and sing at midnight
songs about how nothing new he bought,
no one new he gave his heart to
could make him forget
about all those he had turned his back on.
My friend, I am afraid we have become that same person.
And we are pathetic not because we loved too much
but because we couldn’t love anyone,
not even ourselves.

“Birds” – Nayana Nair

aesthetic-alternative-birds-girl-Favim.com-3807357

The birds in my dreams-
they never sing, they never sang.
Their wings are caught up
in a sorrow they can never understand.

“Softer Light” – Nayana Nair

380916586_92a1095987_b

I like days like these
when the clouds cover up my view of sky
and make the light from sun
lighter and softer
for it hurts my eyes less,
hurts my heart less.
These days reveal to me a happier me,
who has shared my life silently.
In the song I hum
there are sprinkles of your love
but never quite enough
to call this songs yours.
The songs I sing
on days like these
are always about myself.

“Playlist” – Nayana Nair

ipod-headphone

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.

images (1)

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

images

“Forever” – Nayana Nair

1102

There are ruins of hearts hiding
in the secluded places
that refuse to vanish into
this decaying world.
Stagnancy is not an accurate word
to describe
the beauty of these corners,
where the caresses of sunlight
and wind are trapped forever.
There are places
that hold the touch of the ones
the world has lost.
Though I am yet
to fully realize
the depth and sorrow of
this word.
But here it doesn’t matter.
Here the summer and the winter are same.
Here the cry trapped in my veins
can sings along with voices from far way time.
Here my silence
can be music.
Here I can sit and hope
for our love to last forevers.
And know that there are certain love
that can never cease to exist,
but only forgotten.

“Step into the memory” – Nayana Nair

Posted on

IMG_48410230240180

I sing them a song
in the voice that may soothe their hearts
but fills me with feelings
which are very similar to words
like choke, suffocation and breathlessness.
Though you might not think twice about it,
I know what I have done.
I have walked into the prison that my life was.
But I love myself for taking that step
into the memory of darkness
that cannot actually hurt me.
It is just remains of the hurt that was.
But here I also find remains of ‘me’ that was.
And I am happy, for I know
rarely do people get chance
to become what they were, even for a minute.

Written Word

My thoughts, my words and the story of my life.

southern chic

An Archive of Curious Facts for the Curious!

noblethemes

An Exploration Of My Soul

LISMORE PAPER

Paper goods, Art, Graphics, & Restoration

A Holistic Journey

Finding my way back out of motherhood -- while mothering

Cee's Photo Challenges

Teaching the art of composition for photography.

3cstyle.wordpress.com/

Fun, Polished Sustainable Fashion and Good Vibes

DAVID OAKES - IMAGES.

An Occasional Diary of Everyday Life and Travel in the U.K. and sometimes elsewhere

Zimmerbitch

age is just a (biggish) number

Mabel Kwong

Asian Australian. Multiculturalism

litadoolan

Any old world uncovered by new writing

magicandbeauty

travels, books, cosmetics, promo, life

Kismet

Inspiring Insight

In mind and out

Read my mind

MY WALL

Poems & Photographs

Magenta Blues

inspiring ordinary joy

L. Burton

~I write stuff~

Garfieldhug's Blog

This & That Including What Ails

Nuggets of Gold

Helping you to find the gold nuggets amidst the dirt, sand and pebbles of life!

Charmed Chaos

Musings on Life, Love, and Linguine