When I'm sick
Dr. Nunglekpam Premi Devi *
Sick! Knows no limits; it's harsh,
It's cruel and ruthless and sickening;
Sick embarrasses me happily, awfully!
I feels 'sick', when all I feel sick inside;
I carry him, as I long as I walk, go and stand,
He clinches too strong; concealing all my motives;
Don't want to have him; still he makes his room,
He's too shameless, bold he comes, with no permission;
He knocks me not; he stands still forwarding,
I know; and when I know he is slowly trying
And steadily holding me as one; ruthlessly
One of headache, one of fever, one of cold
It's paining; when he embraces me all awhile.
When I'm sick, I feel completely perplex;
When I'm sick, I feel totally exerting and utilizing;
Feeling struggling, I employ much of exercises,
Leave me alone! He never leaves incomplete;
Sick! As do I sick, I work much harder enrolling;
I carry along with 'sick'; never did I try to set lying;
Alas! I dare waking myself alive, fresh and settle,
How innocently he controls me, taunting more;
I hate myself being with him carrying and shadowing around;
Go away! I do shout, he's so dumb and he's muted;
I do serve faithfully; sick as hell, he makes his room;
Empty as I could; my stomach aches, thinner as I stay struggling;
It's paining; when he embraces me all awhile.
One o'clock, two o'clock, and six o'clock it struck;
Heavier and weaker as I walk, strolling by the bed;
I tried never to glimpse lying on the bed,
Holding! And holding stronger, as I serve others
I feel dizzy, I feel sickening, and still I'm awake working homely;
Help me; help me; when I'm sick, no one's around,
And steadily holding me as one; ruthlessly and scaring,
One of headache, one of fever, one of cold, weakening alive;
Oh Dear! Is that the way, I should have neglecting him;
I don't want sharing; take away from me;
He Mind me better, when I'm weaker;
He leaves me with no choice, battling within
It's paining; when he embraces me all awhile.
When I'm sick, I stay aloof away, boring;
When I'm sick, I tremble rapidly feebly;
When I'm sick, my inner voice lowers missing;
Holding me tight as though I may leave him unattended;
Sick! He isn't a gift, he isn't a reward,
Mind not the others! When he's with others;
Something strange; when I dump him medicating,
Lighter I feel when I don't carry 'him' around shouldering;
When I'm sick, I see those beauties lies within
Give more; take these; eat these; throw away nothing;
I wonder how pathetic he is.
* Poem written by Dr. Nunglekpam Premi Devi for Imphal Times
The writer is an Independent Scholar
This poem was webcasted on May 08 2018.
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