So how do I say no?
When instead of requests I am receiving orders
Somehow everybody seems to know
I will give into those pouty lips, defeated eyes and a cause of honour
When I say no, the bargaining starts
‘It’s not much, sacchi. You are good at it,’
These statements make my brain fart
Fart of guilt
Smell indicating dreadful mistakes
I am about to make
So here’s my plate and I am in a buffet
Put all that needs to be finished that needs to be done
‘Take this opportunity or else you’ll regret.’
‘You will forever be alone.’
Here’s my time, money and energy, take it!
Here’s my life, my soul, my spirit!
Take it all away.
I have too much of it anyway.
Who am I after all?
My plans don’t matter at all
I can’t do nothing
I ought to be involved in something
Being able to help is a gift,
Looks like I am blessed with Santa Claus’s visit
It’s his godown right?
He needs help too,
I am too receptive, what do I do?
Call me an empath
I consider myself a fool
It’s a fact
I really am an emotional fool.
Mariyam Saigal, a young poet, finds herself creative in making up stories and so one could consider her as an amateur writer. Her poem is published in first print anthology of The Bombay Review.