by Sayantani Roy
look how she stands eyes skyward backdrop her Banyans
her palms open mapped with fate’s indifferent tracings
barren they called her so out she went coaxed seedlings
out of dry ground with the man who held her hand as she birthed
every 385 of them
look how she stands her sari swaying in the Banyans’ breeze
feet firm on forbearing earth like the dancer who told us her story
who became Thimmakka became tree sap became the silence that
quivered in those beings that rose and rose till their rustle
became the uproar in our hearts
Thimmakka Saalumarada—how she carried pot after pot of water
engorged till she poured it all into parched mouths
till she heard the sap rising till they rose past her ankles
past her hips past her shoulders rose above her head
now she stands tranced in the midst of her own name
Thimmakka, who was ostracized on account of being childless, went on to plant hundreds of trees on a barren roadside outside Bangalore. She became known as Saalumarada—an avenue of trees. The veteran Bharatanatyam dancer, Malavika Sarukkai, created a piece in Thimmaka’s honor.
Sayantani Roy grew up in small-town India and writes from the Seattle area. She has placed work in Alan Squire Publishing, A Thin Slice of Anxiety, Book of Matches, Contemporary Haibun Online, Ekphrastic Review, Full House Literary, Gone Lawn, Heavy Feather Review, Panoplyzine,TIMBER, Wordgathering, and elsewhere. This season, she is participating as a mentee in the AWP Writer to Writer Mentorship program. She is a Community TA for ModPo.org (Modern & Contemporary American Poetry) on Coursera. Say hello on Instagram @sayan_tani_r.
Emerge Literary Journal 