The moon was golden as it rose from the Bay of Bengal. The waves, green and blue and white, foaming as they touched the brown sand. The breeze blew pleasantly, neither cold not warm... Just perfect to soothe.
A small stage, two dancers, ready to show their mettle to a select guest of a leading IT company.
The guests were delayed, but the moon climbed, not waiting for anyone. The reflection in the waters danced and the sea rippled gently, not in a hurry either, but not resting either.
The lights came on, and a sitar player took the stage, mellifluously building the mood for a half hour of cultural showcasing.
Then came the two dancers, their costume pleats ballooning in the breeze like a sail.
There is nothing to match the joy of dancing in the open, on the seashore, under the sky, the moon and the stars... With the cosmos as the witness, a million stars for audience, do a handful of mortals matter?
A small stage, two dancers, ready to show their mettle to a select guest of a leading IT company.
The guests were delayed, but the moon climbed, not waiting for anyone. The reflection in the waters danced and the sea rippled gently, not in a hurry either, but not resting either.
The lights came on, and a sitar player took the stage, mellifluously building the mood for a half hour of cultural showcasing.
Then came the two dancers, their costume pleats ballooning in the breeze like a sail.
There is nothing to match the joy of dancing in the open, on the seashore, under the sky, the moon and the stars... With the cosmos as the witness, a million stars for audience, do a handful of mortals matter?
