In Madurai
city of temples and poetsWho sang of cities and temples
Every summer
A river dries to a trickle
In the sand
Baring the sand rubs
Straw and women's hair
Clogging the watergates
At the rusty bars
Under the bridges with patches
Of repair all over them
The wet stones glistening like sleepy
Crocodiles, the dry ones
Shaven water-buffaloes lounging in the sun
The poets only sing of the floods
- An excerpt from A RIVER by A K Ramanujan
It has been a packed month of watching, talking, sharing, writing, rehearsing and performing. With International Dance Day just concluded, I have chosen to focus on the joy and beauty of DANCE this month. Showered with a feast of ideas, expressions and the familiar sweat of rehearsals, it has been 30 days of my body at play. Aaaand… my muscles are aching and rejoicing in tandem.
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