Poems by Sumana Roy
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Education
I’m educating my heart … I say this as if it were daily exercise— repetition will bring this into being (even the sun must have had practice to leave and show up on time to work in a savage sky, its office). I’ve tried everything— rubbing it like a masseur hoping for the pain to thin, coaxed it to stop beating, to halt—this pain’s only a station, there’ll be others, I’ll teach it, that thing called ratiocination. I’ve squeezed it like fruit, I’ve put a lid on it to stop it from exploding; I’ve left it to ret like jute. I’ve watched it shiver helplessly, I’ve swallowed it to put it back in place— gasping, like gills for water; I’ve asked it to shrink into its space. I’ve shouted at it and I’ve whispered, I’ve wanted to beat it with a cane, I’ve treated it like a patient, and I’ve returned to it again, to turn off the light, and later to scrub its spotted windowpane. I’m educating my heart … Even though I know too little. I sometimes put my ear to it to check whether it’s empty or full— I only hear a murmur, its knocking; it’s knocking to be let out, it wants to drop out of school. I Google How to Stop Crying I google how to stop crying My history shows up: ‘How to be free from sadness’ I’ve googled this before? Other histories, not mine: ‘How to stop hiccups’ ‘How to stop hair fall’ ‘How to stop vomiting’ We’ve all come here to lose— to lose what we are losing … There have been others before me: ‘How to stop crying immediately’ I feel the urge to wipe the tears of this stranger, now suddenly my relative The first link lists cures: ‘Walk away; use distractions; relax facial muscles; blink; breathe; get rid of throat lump; think of something funny’ … I try to think of water cycles— why tears are liquid, whether it’d hurt less if tears were gas, like flatulence I smile I’m crying I can’t see— water might be changing states again |
Sumana Roy is the author of How I Became a Tree, a work of nonfiction, Missing: A Novel, My Mother’s Lover and Other Stories, and two poetry collections, Out of Syllabus and V. I. P: Very Important Plant.
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