The Performer

She stood on the stage, smiling at her audience sweetly. The music began to play loudly and she moved, losing her senses to the rhythm of the sounds and her body both in sync with each other. The world was painted a sweet shade of blue and green. The people blurred out and their presence turned into distant shadows indecipherable from the dark that surrounded everything that ever was and that ever will be.

The vast expanse of the universe engulfed her into its welcoming arms and she moved into the rhythm sashaying into the arms of the mother and the father, accepting it and rejecting it simultaneously. Her existence was forgotten and any thought of the world was relinquished. Yet, there she was embracing everything with every cell of her being.

The people were cheering, but all she heard was a distant murmur of the universe beckoning her closer and closer into its arms. She walked into the darkness omitting all the light by engulfing it in her growing existence. She twirled and turned, her ghungroo bells chiming loudly as her pace took up. The audience expected something wild and erotic, something slightly scandalous and yet appropriate enough to pass of as silliness born out of innocence. She appeared to be bent on disappointing them today as her body began turning round and round and round, a hand up towards the sky and a hand down on her heart. Her pace picked up, the music already engulfed by the universe’s silence. The audience would have been disappointed indeed, but they were too enthralled to think about their dissatisfaction. One ghungroo bell broke and the chimes scattered on the stage and the other began ripping apart but she turned, oblivious.

She caught an invisible arm that didn’t feel so much like an arm. She gave in to its iron grasp. Something fell on the stage as she rose entrapped in that permanent grasp. She didn’t know how, but there she was enclosed in a darkness greater and grander than any she had ever seen. There she was flying high above everything that she could not see. There she was, LIBERATED!

A/n: This piece was inspired by a beautiful painting in one of the reading rooms at Cornell’s Kroch Library. 🙂 I wish I had paid more attention to its name and the painter, but alas, may be next time. 

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