Tradition, classicism.
Something that is framed in time?
Is it a movement that is long dead?
Or something that Is.
That should be pulsating with life.
Stagnant waters stink, we all know.
What about the classical arts,
Like music, dance and drama?
Forced in one place,
Do they not they take the colors
Of these stagnant, murky waters?
Reiterating what has been said
Again and again and again?
Like a snake beaten and beaten to death?
But why?
Because the others are scared of
Its movements.
Tradition is a full flowing river,
The techniques and the shastras are her banks.
That holds and keeps the art alive.
And the creative spirit,
Without the reins be unrestrained,
Like a meandering Ganga,
To move at her free will,
To change course,
To venture into unknown fields
And discover pastures anew.
