'Deny': Sehri Tales selections, Day 5

I.

"Suhaaa! Come look, I got you a new pressure cooker!"
Ma swings the pot towards the camera for me to see.
"Meat, biryani, haleem--you can make anything you want in it!"
"Thanks ma," I say with a smile. "Did you buy that weight machine you wanted?"
"Another day, mona. It can wait."
"Don't forget, okay?"

****
Over the next few weeks, Ma throws herself into shopping: presents pile up for our whole family in preparation for Eid. When asked about her own dress, she laughs breezily.
"What will I do with more dresses? I still have new ones from last year! "
She waves away my impending argument.
"Mona do you know, I saw a beautiful dinner set today, a full 32 pieces! Another day, I'll buy it..."
The days fly past and my flight approaches. Ma has been strangely quiet. 
"Ma? Are you alright?"
"Hm? Yes, yes, I'm fine. Don't worry."
I frown.
"Did you lose weight?" The circles under her eyes looked darker somehow. 
"Did I? I'm not sure." 
"Wait. Did you still not buy that weight machine??"
She shifts guiltily.
"Maa!" 
She has always been like this - scouring heaven and Earth to meet our every need but denying all of her own. Slowly, my anger melts into sadness. 
"It's alright, I'll bring it."
A weight machine, a dinner set, a few dresses--I'll bring all of these things. Ma has denied enough--it's about time we put her first.

by Tahia Tabassum 

II. 

De(a)rstwhile Sarah,
Remember that godforsaken Italian restaurant where I, fueled by tiramisu and misplaced bravado, got down on one knee? 
You, bless your sensible soul, choked on your cannoli and let me down softly by saying the three words every man wants to hear, "Are you kidding?"  
Let me tell you, it was the single greatest gift you ever gave me (besides the killer mixtape and all the scented candle you left behind). 
Marriage with you, would have involved wearing his queen -and-her king t shirts in public and hurling insults at each other in private. And an unhealthy amount of baby talk (Is there even a healthy amount?).So No, thanks! 
Moving on, remember Winston, the neurotic pug you swore wouldn't survive without your constant attention? Well, no points for guessing who's my new adventure buddy. 
We just conquered Mount Defiance, him nestled in my backpack, a tiny furry compass.  
You'd be surprised at the profound conversations you can have with a dog who doesn't judge your bad singing . It was pure, unadulterated joy, Sarah, a feeling I might not have rediscovered if I'd been  debating what shade of beige should the living room be.
So, from the bottom of my (now very happy) heart, thank you. Thank you for the gift of denial, for the freedom to chase sunsets and sing off-key with my furry co-pilot. You may have broken my heart but now it's beating. 
Yours Truly,
Michael (and Winston Churchill, the pug)

by Nafis Tanjim

III.
"DO YOU DENY IT?" he screamed, sending angry spittle flying in the air between us. His face, now mere inches from mine, contorted into the most grotesque of countenances, shaped by the insidious threads of hatred. 
Lunging forward, he grabbed ahold of my collar; his grip like vice. "TELL ME!" he demanded, shaking me with more force than I imagined his lithe body capable of. I had underestimated him. And I had certainly minified the power of his rage. My fate was in his hands, and I had made a severely miscalculated move. The dark, empty locker room seemingly closed in around me, the dank air, suffocating. The enormity of my careless actions, was slowly dawning on me.
Nervous, I pleaded, "Dost, please don't be mad. I did it for us. I only tampered with the ball so we'd win. Please don't tell Coach."'

by Samai Haider