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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=410962" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>After a yaksha-gana performance</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=410962" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">They wore elaborate masks<br>Resplendent clothes studded<br>With dazzling stone work<br>Each time they moved into <br>The light zone, I blinked my eyes<br>They whirled like colorful tops<br>Let loose by a playful child<br>And in no time stood steady<br>To deliver a dialogue <br>I failed to comprehend<br>There were men women<br>And men dressed as women<br>In one corner stood the drummer<br>And the singer was at his high<br>Least concerned of the microphone<br>In the dark auditorium I sat: <br>An abstract painting of no symmetry<br>Hanging on a lackluster wall</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=410962" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">As if to wash off my guilt<br>I self-consciously handed <br>A five hundred note and<br>Quickly walked out<br>The drum still beating in my ears<br>Following me like a tireless shadow</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=410962" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">02oct2010<br>22.44hrs</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Indira+Babbellapati">Indira Babbellapati</a></strong></div>