Ode To An Indian Classical Dancer Poem by Om Chawla

O thou fair nymph of art, dance
Dance that world may dance with you.

In thy grace is mirrored the grace
Of thy nation's heritage;
In thy gait is depicted the majesty
of thy God's incarnates;
In thy grimaces are revealed
The wrath of gods, the misery of thine own folk;
In thy curves are betrayed the curves
Of thy nations sculptural art.

Art hath taught thou to blend-
What time hath failed to destroy-
In thy grace gait and grimace
The invocations to the Gods
Of thy miserable countrymen.

Miserable countrymen? I begin to doubt
May be, may not be so
But invocations all the same
To appease the wrathful lords.

Hath time no meaning for art?
It hath, else why shouldn't a dancer dance
Of invocations only.
Time hath changed and so hath art
Changed its modus operandi.
Even so art exploreth
Inmost recesses of human heart
These have been same
since years and years and years ago
Time hath no influence there.
O thou timeless priceless creature, dance
Dance that world may dance with you..........[1960]