"let me wake up" – Nayana Nair

someone whispered
you are special
and i knew that this is sleep
(the pleasantly confusing side),
that this is a memory of something
that will never happen again (should i be sad?).
paper dolls hurried me down the aisle
of a supermarket, opening up packets and packets
of laughter that I had not yet paid for
(should i be worried?)
They made me stand at the counter,
chirping “it’s time”, “it’s time”
“it’s time”
and someone who tried hard to look like a human,
who had tried to scratch away
the face of demon drawn by my hands,
stood with a trolley filled with sad colors,
handed me his card
with my name written on his scratched out one
and told me
“now you fall”.
and all i could say was “i hate you”
“i hate you – not in used-to-love-you way”
“i hate you – the way i hate having a broken heart”
“let me wake up”

“Where I Stop” – Nayana Nair

Every few days
I feel the urge to get out
of this house that feels so full of myself.
Guilt of a comfortable life
forces me out,
so I take a stroll
through supermarket.
I wish I said that I went to a park
but I didn’t.
But I do remember going there once or twice.
Or was it a whole month of healthy choices
and healthy promises
that I knew I would never follow through.
The morning was sweet, and air was nice
and I felt a happiness I had never known.
They were probably the lightest hours
that I ever lived.
In short,
it was too much for me to take.
In short
it lured me to a different life
and asked me to change.
And that is where I stop
in front of racks of cookies
and chips,
in front of billing counter,
if front of calories I have no hunger for.
Knowing that I won’t change,
but hoping that I do.