Rain Dance Featuring Pritika Krishnakumar

The monsoon is a poet with a severe case of melancholic mooning. She recites lines mercurial of longing into the elephant ear leaves. And the impressionable leaves, wide-eyed and big-eared, are struck immobile by these utterances of undiluted yearning - clutching at them like children holding onto helium balloons. Repeating them, rolling them about like a silver ball on a soft green floor. Trembling in the wind lest they be stolen from them. Letting them take over its life. Falling in love every single time. Meanwhile the monsoon uses her magnificent poetry carelessly. Touching souls of things that didn’t believe they had souls. Making them weep. Making them hold out for her. She who has long forgotten about the silver ball rolling on a soft green floor.

The monsoon is a poet with a severe case of melancholic mooning and I’m an elephant ear leaf - holding breath and heart. Waiting for her poetry to turn my body mercurial with dance.