I miss your visual splendour-
your kohl-eye, telling stories-
your swift pirouettes in the wind-
your enthralling foot-work-
did your ghungroos (anklet) have hundred bells
like the Kathak dancers?
Wasn’t I mesmerized hearing the dance steps
on glossy, green leaves; on metal shades?
the touch of those graceful hands
blossomed Kadam flowers-
your odhni (veil) of cloud
seemed infinite-
where are you my pretty, danseuse?
Have we killed you
like the colonial British trying to smother
the Kathak dance
calling its practitioners ‘nautch girls’; harlots
in contemptuous fun?
In our desert homes
we are missing you sorely-
[Whatever I try to write now it leads to the rain-less days we are living here. So my Kathak dancer is the monsoon here.]
Posted for my prompt ~ Dance @ Poets United Midweek Motif
sumanar/lekha 
Yes, the variation ito our climate is a concern all over the world, Even in Australia we were worried that rain might fall this winter but have had some but as always we need more! Let’s hope your Kathak dancer comes soon Sumana.
Oh my! What a wonderful write, Sumana. You totally rocked it… this is a gem that I hope many more people get a chance to read.
I got swept along with the dance i too hope the dancers don’t disappear
Perhaps (and we hope so), there will be a resurgence of both the dance and the dancers.
Beautiful, Sumana! I love the monsoon as a Kathak dancer, especially the ‘kohl-eye’ and the ‘swift pirouettes in the wind’, jingling the anklets. My favourite image if the ‘dance steps on glossy, green leaves’ – divine!
Ghungroos is a fantastic word…has a real Aussie feel to it.
my roos
my ghunroos
my jillaroos
(not nautch gals)
my boomerang
wont come back
We are waiting for rain too 🙂
Thanks for the metaphor note so now I can say my favourite image is the
Happy you dropped by my blog to read mine
” the dance steps
on glossy, green leaves; on metal shades?”
much ❤love
Oh it is a worrisome thing when the monsoon does not come. I love your likening it to a dancer. Very cool. I hope we have not killed her and that she will return. When she comes, she may come in a flood. Also a worry.
This is simply beautiful …
A gorgeous poem about the dancing Kathak I hope they will come back
I can hear the pelt of the rain in the bells on her ankles. Something of a rain dance.
truth strikes deep here
So much loss! We mourn for, yearn for those durations again, that you capture so beautifully here in multiple parallels.
Beautiful…we are really missing those ghungroo’s ‘rhim-jhim ghire sawan’…
The Kathak dance is a visual splendour, indeed. You elegantly capture with your words something that sounds like a rainmaking ritual. Hope you get some relief from rainless days.