After A Yaksha-Gana Performance Poem by indira babbellapati

They wore elaborate masks
Resplendent clothes studded
With dazzling stone work
Each time they moved into
The light zone, I blinked my eyes
They whirled like colorful tops
Let loose by a playful child
And in no time stood steady
To deliver a dialogue
I failed to comprehend
There were men women
And men dressed as women
In one corner stood the drummer
And the singer was at his high
Least concerned of the microphone
In the dark auditorium I sat:
An abstract painting of no symmetry
Hanging on a lackluster wall

As if to wash off my guilt
I self-consciously handed
A five hundred note and
Quickly walked out
The drum still beating in my ears
Following me like a tireless shadow

02oct2010
22.44hrs