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“My place in this cruel landscape” – Nayana Nair

when i stood

in front of the respected uncaring adults
who could never see me,

beside the fickle-minded fun-seeking friends
who smoked ‘idgaf attitude’ every night,

holding the hands
of the demanding demeaning frightening voice
of the one i wanted to love,
the one i almost loved,

i knew how to smile.
i knew how to let them off the hook.
i knew how to care for all those
who don’t have to care for such things.

and so i make it through another day,
another month, another year,
trying not to break anyone anymore,
trying not to abandon anyone,

making a list of all things that were once beautiful about them,
convinced that this imperfect me deserves only suffocating relationships,
careful not to see hope in any short-lived moment of affection.

“Smoke” – Nayana Nair

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The lone trail of smoke
spreads over the dreams
we set free in our self.
Another spark lost
in the sad fate of invisibility
that it was born with.

“One Despair” – Nayana Nair

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Even though I fed myself so many lies and called them dreams,
but I guess I still cannot call them lies.
Because though stupid,
the innocence that once made me believe
in all kinds of kind future
and made me think that I won’t have to choose just one
or get the one I choose-
that innocence will always remain the most beautiful thing I had.
But I also cannot hold me blameless
since all the space that my imagined future had taken,
the void I created by my own hands
by feeding myself hope made of smoke,
soon became another me, always asking me questions,
questions I am too scared and ashamed to answer.
I betray myself one second
and next second I am my own savior.
I get fooled and disenchanted too easily.
If it was only one despair that ate me from within
it would still have been more tolerable.
I would still have been able to fool myself
for a bit more longer,
and feel this pain a little less.

“Version” – Nayana Nair

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Sometimes the hatred, the bias that
people around him smoked
sticks to his clothes, his skin, his tongue
when I come near him.
He can wash it from himself with a sleep.
He can leave it at the door, when he steps in.
But I can’t wash it out of my mind.

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In my mind
I mix up the person he is and the person he has to be.
But I realise that I do not know the person he is,
I only know the person he has to be for me,
I only resent the person he has to be for others.

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The person he is, looks at me from his corner of eyes
and this stranger looks at me
not across oceans, not across roads of fate,
but across the versions of us filling up the space between us,
the versions we can never throw away.

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This stranger looks at me and gives me the smile
that he has to wear for me.
For me to realise the love I have for the the days
I share with this person who spends his days with me,
loses his ways with me and grows old with me.
I smile back becoming the person I have to be for him,
becoming the version I love the most.

“Whale Songs” – Nayana Nair

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My house on hills and it’s silence
are always occupied in a duel
with the wartime echoes from far away lands,
with the agonizing voices of reality.
Even if I surround my house with
the greenest trees,
place cool streams around.
Even if I cloud my windows
with curtains of smoke.
Even if I barter with life,
even if I am ready to embrace
loneliness for the sake of peace.
In my dreams, filled with whale songs,
there are sorrows
of lives I have cut off myself from.
But I am not someone
who can save people from themselves.
I have no choice to burn
the letters,
the newspapers,
to keep myself warm and alive.

“Hopeless Wishes” – Nayana Nair

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Our hearts are perpetually
suspended
in a time
that flows around us.
And our ghosts pin us to our sins,
while we yearn to be the person
we were a second ago.
Though our heart are
full of ashes and smoke
of loves we have burned with us.
We still hopelessly wish to be with the one
that we have destroyed.
We live in the distance
that no apologies can cover.
A distance
that many suffer
but only few endure.

“Out all night”- Nayana Nair

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Every night
I saw that girl
who roamed the dark streets
with eyes filled with smoke
and feet swaying with confusion and power.
With clothes that reminded me of night sky.
She was out all night
to paint the world
in the color
of her black beautiful broken heart.
The many masks of her
hung by her wrist.
They smile, sneer and look down
at the faceless shadows
that are bound to disappear.
And though it always puzzled me
how she could smile,
after breaking so many people.
I finally understood
how it could be so hollow
and so fulfilling at same time.
I finally understood all this
the morning when I woke up as her.

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