A Brush With Infinity
Purnendu Chatterjee
On a simmering hot afternoon Siva danced his own dance,
Evolving forms and dissolving patterns, like a perfect artist
On the canvas of creation. Parvati watched the dancer and the dance
Till, in her eyes, the dancer became the dance.
In one sweep of frenzied ecstasy the dancer and the watcher were united,
An androgenic God, ardhanarishwar, defying time and space,
Universal and infinite.
On a moist and dusky afternoon I saw her dance,
Not a series of mechanical steps, but joy spilling over,
Exuding bliss that, we are told, other worlds afford.
The joy proved contagious. I was lifted like a piece of cloud
On a gale, like a straw on a tumultuous wave.
In a moment I was transported to her world, the
Corporeal frame lying back like a corpse without the soul,
As I touched infinity.