“Asking for More” – Nayana Nair

The lost all gather
at the same door as I.
They shout, yell and cry.
Praise and tell lies.
To be taken in.
To be cared for.
To be chosen.
To be looked at, even once.

Do they also feel smaller
for standing here and waiting,
for asking things whose void eats you up.
This void
that has a fondness, an appetite
for the ones who can’t unlearn caring.
Which becomes bigger
feasting on the silent phone,
on unifinished conversations,
on the hollow rumours, on the dirt on your name,
smeared by people
who know better
but continue to do worse.

The void for things,
that even when attained,
outgrows the want that creates it.
Is there anyone
who has got what he asked
and stopped asking for more.
Who has found himself
by asking and pleading for acceptance,
by being nice and patient,
by cutting themselves up
to fit the template
of someone else’s ever growing void.

“MISREAD” -Nayana Nair

I have stacks and heaps of poems I have misread.

Where I filled the blanks

which were not meant to be filled.

Where I was supposed to stand stupefied by absurdity of life

I tried to find some order , some reason.

Where I was supposed to sit and listen to worries

I gave advice.Or worse, interfered in lives not mine.

It was always about what I could give to life,

than what life has given to me.

So I have suffered long

trying to fill silences in heart

and words in blank pages.

And never to have made a difference.

Never to have known the beauty

of being incomplete and unfinished.