A Journal of Mahatma Gandhi Antarrashtriya Hindi Vishwavidyalaya

the supreme king's presence that day. I
had made arrangements to the best of
my principal actors to unfold and display
the acme of their art on that occasion.
Internally I fancied for a staging with
perfect passion and pleasure interspersed
with melodies produced by musical
instruments. So did it happen. After the
evening waving of lights before
Mahakaalnath[1] people started flocking
to the theatre hall. All the elite and affluent
of the city were seated properly. A beat
of the drum, and with fanfare and music
I commenced the ritualistic proceeding
of the prelude. Vocalists and
instrumentalists took the assigned seats
and concomitantly with the tinkle and clang
of anklets of the danseuse, Indian lute,
flute, tabor, and special drum rang and
gurgled. On my entering the stage with
a golden vase and banner for the placement
of an Indra's[2] emblem I was immensely
gratified to watch the interminably anxious
expectation. My own acting was a
marvellous success. After the raising of
the Indra's emblem I returned expansively
contented to the retiring room. Already,
Nipunika was present there with the flower
offerings. At my nod once again the drum
received a beat and with flower offering
for a reverential salutation Nipunika stepped
onto the stage. From behind the curtain
I was beholding her unprecedentedly
wonderful dance. With the lute, flute,
and tabor the plate of bell-metal was voluble
and was rendering the clang and tinkle
of Nipunika's anklets all the more
spellbinding. Suddenly the instruments
felt a brake and against the backdrop of
the echo of their mellifluous strain her
soft tune was heard. Today I was
wonderstruck and under a spell to view
her deftness. On the completion of the
song the sound of the tinkle of the anklets
was audible with the instruments. With
a delicate pose she presented her hearty
offerings to different gods and retreated
to the section behind the screen in
beautifully slow movement.
In a moment in the deep of my mind
a typhoon passed and subsided to
tranquillity. I have been ever able to
compose myself. Of this I am rather proud.
For once I called in an entreating tone-
‘‘Niuniya’’. With a pause and ponder
Nipunika stopped short–her left hand was
placed upon her waist, the bracelet had
slid onto the wrist, the right hand like
a lackadaisical creeper of pepper was in
a gentle swing, her comely curvaceous
body because of the dance style was a
bit bent, and the countenance was suffused
with droplets from fatigue. I was reminded
of Maalvika in Maalvikagnimitram. [3] With
a laugh I recited that ‘shloka’ (mostly
an unrhymed stanza) from Kalidas. Nipunika
was quite innocent of Sanskrit; only God
knows what she thought, what she took
it for. A slender line of smile appeared
on her lips and for quite a while her
eyes were lowered. Right then a jasmine
drooped and dropped from her flaccid
34 :: January-March 2012