Dance of joy

I take huge heaps of solitude, add lots of energy, toss a Shuba Mudgal CD into the music system and here's what I got.

Pulsating music throbs, fills the room,
Drumbeats roll, trip, pound against my heart,
the notes of the shehnai, give wings to my heart
and the singer's voice, takes me through an emotional journey,
through the pangs of love, of separation,
the sweet agony of waiting, and the ecstasy of union,
the playfulness and joy of getting soaked in the rain,
the freedom of finding oneself.
The music washes against my body in waves,
soaks into me through my pores.
enters my bloodstream like a drug.

How can my body not move, how can it not dance?
Impelled by the voice, the rhythm, becoming feather-light,
caught in the taut embrace of the sound that fills the room,
eyes shut, I dance like one possessed,
a crazy smile on my face,
my heart filled with joy,
swirling round the room, I sway to the beat,
letting go of inhibitions, of the mind.
The music, the singer and I, we are one.
The music is me and I am it,
and the dance is the dance of our union.

In moments like these I truly live.

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