Tandava And Lasya

Laughter

"That beggar of ashes and snakes, living with filthy souls and ghouls,
With scorpions crawling on his body
Journeying with sinister spirits and the doomed dead
Is nothing but a lowly demon, not the Prince who shall
Come and take the Princess!"

This, the world declared as Shiva, when little Sati
Sat near the idol of her beloved, that she had made
With her little palms, covered in mud
Wildflowers adorning the smiling man.

Her saree was turned into a rag
By the despicable, jealous entities
Her beautiful braids untied with rough hands
Her scarlet cheeks wet with salty tears,
Yet, her lips curved into a smile of bliss.

"He will come, one day."
And thus, little Sati waited,for sixteen years
Eating nothing but the alms the generous gave her
Drinking only what mother Ganga poured into her existence
Living like a hermit, in the backyard of her palace
Oblivious to the worldly taunting and mockery, her heart shielded
From all hatred and malice, by the divine laughter that rang
In her ears, soothing her delicate mind.

For she had heard that chuckle, that giggling, that so hearty laughter
Which had banished all sorrows from her life,
And thus, she waited, for Him to sing again
His laughter, echoing across the mountains.

And when,in the sixteenth year, on the night of a full moon
The mountains bathing in the silvery, sensual moonlight
The stars dancing to intoxicate the midnight lovers
Sati sat near her Swami, colouring her feet with red dye, her eyes set on the beautiful idol
She felt the notorious wind tickle her feet
And she thundered, "Fool! Know not who has the right to do such a mischief?"
And looked at her feet, but before she could speak
A sigh of relief escaped her lips
For it was a camphor white palm
That committed this puckish act
Sending shivers of pleasure down her spine.

And when her face glowed red like the dwarf of dawn
He tickled her feet even more,
Till she curled into a ball, and He
Embraced her, kissing her cheeks
Making them even more warm with His nectar coated lips!

And then, He laughed, at her miserable state
Whispering sweet nothings into her ears
And laughing again, for she wanted to hear only that song of happiness
He carried her to where he could tickle her everyday!