After A Yaksha-Gana Performance

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