I read a poem called “Three Questions.” By Caitlyn Seihl. And irrespective of how spiritually heart-melting it is, I want to request the poet, “please make it four.” Make it four, and once you are done asking about rains and dogs and fear; please ask him about his anger. Ask, what does he do when he gets angry? Does he even acknowledge that he gets angry? Angry around dogs? Angry in the rain? When angry, what does he think he turns into: Sane, Men (like my father who threw food-filled-plates, my teacher who slapped with slates, my neighbour who hurled abuses, my school boyfriend who tore my notebook pages, or my after-school boyfriend who - with his muscular, rugged, vein-y hand which caught my attention the first time I saw him – held me by my chin, I didn’t know what to do, it felt like a sin) or Insane. Does he bang doors? Abandon me in stores? Throws the chairs? Or pull my hairs? Punching on the wall - Does that make him feel stronger? Dear Poet, please ask, is he afraid of his own anger? I wonder, when angry, does he remember his answers about dogs and the rain, because if not, then, my mother has told me, that the first three answers go in vain.
Sanskruti
