umm...

 run, I pant, I gasp for breathe

As I dance in intoxicated rave

I yearn to tear my heart apart

In those mighty nine minutes on stage

The void, the nerves and the music along with 

Sharp lights falling on the face

Can I afford to blink lest I sway wrong?

In those only 9 minutes on stage

Life is a stage and we are mere players but there is an altogether different life on stage, a life that is framed within 24*36 wooden block. I don a different role, an altogether novel avatar cry with it, I revel in its joke, and I live with it. But the irony becomes apparent when the self and the character become incomprehensible .The body reacts and crunches with the failure of role , the heart shrinks at every drawback, the "wrath" faced , the "Tears "poured and the " Touch" felt in the time course are  the proof of the real performance. The 9 minutes on stage are magical, almost surreal.

The applause and the claps are the reward for a performer. The louder they are the better as it gives a euphoric feeling to the heart. The anxiety to win and the satiation after the win - just like the gratified feeling after eating a ton of Belgian dark chocolate ice cream - out of the world, delightful and indulgent. The nine minutes are the road to all and there is all in it to be explored out and out.