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Tag Archives: tired

“Other ‘Almost’s” – Nayana Nair

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Sometimes you find me the words
that I am too tired to look for.
And place it in my hand
with such careful touch,
that I feel I could almost cry.
And that too will be added
to the list of other ‘almost’s
that my life has lived through.
These moments become a house
standing at the shore of my simple wants.
I find myself thinking,
“This could be my home.
I can bear life here.
I can even get used to it.”
I am glad that I have such a place
to think about,
to look back.
Even if my feets don’t agree
to what my heart wants.

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“Can there be a me?” – Nayana Nair

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Can there be a me
in future,
who wouldn’t second guess the
genuinety of people and relations.
Who wouldn’t live on scarpes of leftover love.
Who would sigh less, and smile better.
Who doesn’t wake up to relive
every sadness till date.
Whose time is not trapped and wasted
on crumpled papers.
I hope there is.
Cause I have lived too long like this
and though I thought
I could do this forever,
but now I am tired.
Today, just want to go to sleep
and wake up somewhere else,
as someone else.

“Name a few” – Nayana Nair

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Your hands were tired
of holding me together,
holding me to ground,
keeping me safe from myself
and my fate.
And when you were no longer there
I could go anywhere in the world,
live different lives,
and see the world anew.
Wait for the death
of my sorrow.
Or kill myself with what I am.
All this I have found
at the cost of
losing earth, me, and you,
to name a few.

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“Sleep” -Nayana Nair

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Night Reading

It has been ages
since I wanted to sleep.
I feel tired and exhausted.
I feel an urge to dip myself
in cold cold water.
So I could get rid of this heaviness
in my soul.
I feel like running and crying
and cursing
and speaking all the stuff
that make no sense.
I do not remember the last time
when I wanted to sleep.
I sleep because I have to.

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I am not short of sleep
I am short of hours and minutes
to live my life.
I want to stay awake
and see the clock ticking by.
How pages of book sound different
when turned at the silence of night.
I mean to read poems all night
But I never seem to read enough.
Just a little.
Just enough
to remember how vast this void is
that I’m trying to fill.
How impossible this task.
How less the time.

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“Fire Drill” – Nayana Nair

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Yesterday the fire alarm rang.
We pretended to run
even though we knew of this lie.
Cause we were convinced
this will keep us alive,
when (if) our worst fear
(out of so many)
became reality.

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And in the open
where it was supposed to be safe
(as if any place in this world is safe)
when it started to drizzle,
people just wanted to run to a shelter.
Even if it meant taking refuge
in the building they ran away from
with fake fire.

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And so like always,
like all of us,
they ran from one place to another,
one fear to another.
And I realized I was too tired to run now.
Running from fire,
running from rain,
running from commitments,
running from love,
running from myself.
I was too tired.
Aren’t you?

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