“Return” – Nayana Nair

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The cry that was stuck in my throat
turned out to be my name ,
that I had forgotten long ago.
Probably when there were too many of me
for me to hold,
to make space for the all other names
that I must never forget.
How often have I let go of my own hand
to hold the hand of others?
How often the part of me that threw away
never wanted to return to me?
How often I have been left empty handed
and alone at the end?
Yet I go down this same road
only for your sake.

“Flower” – Nayana Nair

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I pluck one leaf at a time
from this flower, this script
my life is.
I throw them from bridges
on cold evenings.
I bury them in the soil
that soils their print with time.
I burn them to ashes,
so they won’t smell the same.
I hang them on trees
that will never bear fruits.
To leave this story of mine
everywhere and nowhere.
So that you may find it.
So that you may not find it.
But
I wear the last page, last leaf
with only one word, you name, written,
on my finger
as substitute for you hands
that I can no longer hold.