The Forgotten Dancer

THE EMPIRE OF A FORGOTTEN DANCER

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EMPIRE

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TIMELINE

UNCAST IMAGINATION

ON AN ODYSSEY

MYRIAD REALMS

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WAYSIDE CITIES

FORGOTTEN DANCER

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MY DREAMS

 

Dreams. In the dark labyrinth called life, these are the lanterns that guide us forth. The fireflies that we chase to liven the night. The stars that help us organize our own lives and find meaning for our actions. The flames that inspire us to achieve.

Dreams. I own millions of them- few that keep changing, few that increase or decrease in prominence, a few that remain constant. 

But ultimately, there are 3 parent dreams under which all other spark-ling dreams fall.

ABOUT ME

THIS EMPIRE

THE STONES, SKELETON AND STRUCTURE.

This space is the home to which this wayfarer brings back the trophies and niches won from the numerous other cities. Fancifully dubbed ‘The Empire’ (by the reigns of my imagination), the skeleton of this structure is built from the delightful relics, ways and wisdom gathered in my journey to unveil the horizons. A partially filled realm, this empire is speckled with towers of so-far-non-existent dream-spires which I seek to replace with their real prototypes. A space that is envisioned to hold a taste of every flavor till its seams swell to house a miniature prototype of a megalithic world. 

 

This ’empire’ is a fantasized menagerie fondly raised by the forgotten dancer to preserve the various trinkets and treasures amassed in her expedition to experience various identities and be more.

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NESTLED DEEP WITHIN LIES A WRITER

 

 “I am a showman by profession … and all the gilding shall make nothing else of me”. PT Barnum had said.

 

And so too, despite the conglomeration of flavors I amuse myself with, deep within lies a writer, who can’t be sundered from my personality. A writer, who is a thrall to the art of words and the intricate alleys of imagination that they weave to drape over mundane reality. A writer, perpetually enraptured by the powerful voice that stirs within silent words. 

 

That’s why, of all the structures erected upon this empire, the spires of words will dominate this skyline most numerously. And when all other enchanting cabins begin to grow bitter and cold, to this home I would return and sit by its  comforting hearth to recount the various forays. 

So, do fare to the city of words.

FROM THE CITY OF WORDS

AN ODE TO THE LEGACY

An acknowledgment to the unknown men behind my works

© 2018 Sahana Narendran

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