Gori Pagapani by giving Zanzar, say how much fear has fallen in the ear! Swim in the sparkling spring, and call out to the sun's herds!

- Anavrita-Jaya Vasavada

- Dance is also a therapy. An intoxication and a catharsis. One solution is to become more cool just to forget the pain when such a void is created

Indeed, I slowly opened the front

He was shouting inside.

Then there stood the ghammar valonah,

Norta playing with desires.

Taking a detour, he said that

'There will be riots without donations',

First of all the pain in the groin

Lekha 'ne Jokha Mandashe.

A single wall inside will be hollow

So feathers will draw holes,

Tarsyu's tarabhane from Dakhna's barley-sesame

Dreams will be sweet.

Honestly, I didn't realize that Ambaliye was swinging

There were scissors.

Then there stood the ghammar valonah,

Norta playing with desires.

Two claps were taken lightly

I hid there,

I did not let it grow, I swam

Asphalt road was built on the mound.

Radha with a waxed face

Green arched,

Even then, not the blazing sun,

Bring the light of the lamp in the garba.

True, hidden musk,

Atti to Mati 'ne Marwao Forta.

Then there stood the ghammar valonah,

Norta playing with desires

To fully enjoy this poem by Raksha Shukla, one has to understand many Talpadi Kathiawadi words. Chindda and Morwa, Dan and Tarbhana and many more. In the metaphor of Nortan and Garba, it has been talked about the courtship of a strange girl! Navratri, which has been rocked this year, is basically a season that makes a woman feel her femininity. After taking a bath, decorating and playing such that in a few minutes you have to sweat and take a bath again. At night, the cheeks become rosy and the beating chest beats the pulse rate to the beat of the drum! This time is such that a woman forgets all other responsibilities and loves herself only!

So today for a change we are going to focus on some compositions that open and warm the heart vibrations of a girl. Mother tongue will save a little by making only speeches? For that, the works written in it have to be censored, right? So let's have a few words with the poets writing in Just for Change Gujarati. Writings or works that are not too well-known bring a sparkling freshness. For example, this composition of Gopali Buch states that when the light of desire wanders inside, the body of any age feels like it has just turned seventeen:

A seventeen-year-old girl living in me,

Ask that I come?

A bottle of perfume is kept brightly,

If I come, wet the mind.

Shy, shy, self-absorbed,

Why should I call him that?

Believe it or not,

So where should I go for my shame?

I am full of chomer verav,

Let the wires fly away.

A seventeen-year-old girl living in me,

Ask that I come?

half crowded and half open,

The traffic passing through its door.

As the wetness of the clay sod,

I feel seventeen years old.

If the blue flowing from the navel asks,

So just go with it.

A seventeen-year-old girl living in me,

Asking whether I will come?..

Further rose the red rose,

And Sinduri Sanjh was shy.

Sarita rushes back,

Ocean contains water.

Haiye climbs if ever the hail of spring,

So include tides...

A seventeen-year-old girl living in me,

Ask that I come?

Toadle the dreams of these peacocks of the mind,

I kept swaying and swinging.

I took the girl of seventeen between me,

kept the veil uncovered.

Breathe by breath my ray beats,

Why should I explain it to him...

A seventeen-year-old girl living in me,

Ask that I come?

Aha, an allad is about to become a perfume bottle and become a flower petal and fly away with the wind. He wakes up again lazily while playing in the garden. There is a similar situation around. of Music and Moves. As a woman in mostly middle-class families, her whole life is stuck like a clothes dryer clip, surrounded by others and squeezed like a magnet. It suddenly becomes a colorful dance. Meanwhile, it happens that Rinku Rathore writes 'Sharvari'

Sleep is done, self sleep is done, home,

My cymbals goto.

Somewhere I will forget that I am the avatar of a woman,

My cymbals goto.

Bapu used to play in the courtyard

How many times lost

Bharthar will be lost here in the corner of the house,

My cymbals goto.

Chundi was replaced by a black kapada

So the darkness spread,

After that I did not tell anyone, Govt.

My cymbals goto.

Hurts here and there every day, thorn rings,

Who can count that pain?

The sound of many worlds beats at the feet of sleep,

My cymbals goto.

For two hours, this glass is incomplete due to that

will be covered,

Just don't feel incomplete decoration,

My cymbals goto.

Dance is also a therapy. An intoxication and a catharsis. One solution is to become more cool just to forget the pain when such a void is created. Otherwise, instead of a jingling rattle, there would be some gravel of memories, spinning around on the stage of the mind. Like Zanzri, Lipi Oza starts talking about housework. how Read it:

Avatar Gharchholo was still taking a nap

How many oceans will the householder cross?

Akhtar is the first, and Medni jami is the rightful one

How many roles will the housekeeper play from today?

I filled the rice to show the parrot skill

It happened to be a housefly with flapping wings ready to fly

Flat rice which does not fit even if it is torn

A coughing sick housekeeper is sleeping in the crib

Do not make a difference, whether the opportunity is theft or theft

Both of them become a decoration of the house

There were already there the papers that were placed around the farm

A load of houseclothes has fallen on the shelf

It was a big deal, settled in a few seconds

A little vermilion, mangalsutra, two phoolhars, gharcholo

Even if seen in a dream, seen is a fact

Where the mountains bowed, the steep house stood

Even after getting married, the desire to play the game goes a little? If Piu can play, then put it on the head. But if he does not play, this occasion is to be celebrated with friends. Some get stuck while playing where the eyes start to twitch more than the legs and the body bounces more loudly. What will happen if no such person is found in it and even after meeting, they continue to do so? Dewangi Bhatt has made a sweet complaint through Kangopi, who is eternal in our literature!

What a fool you are, Girdhari.

Bhav-Bhavana Veri, you have turned out to be a fraud, Morari

The desire to play raas on a light night

Ne Madhav Te Kedhi Thagari,

Bhav-Bhavana Veri, you have turned out to be a fraud, Morari

In the late afternoon, I took a nap

Some oil-dhupel tied the hair

Ortane of playing raas with Kanuda

Boiled noodles in the dark

In my mind I assumed that Nakhralo Nandalal

The pink turban will come

Zazera Kode in Satrangi Kamkha

I hung pink flowers

But Orta was carried away by the storm,

Your unappreciated caste separation

Bhav-Bhav, you have turned out to be a hypocrite...

Chando rose in Gokul's square

There was some confusion

Drum beat, heart beat,

Mitha Joban-Joda Chadaya Raleigh

In my mind I assumed that Varanagi Kan

My bank will be activated

The virtuous gopis will be watching,

And Radha-Madhav will play Rangchele

But Yashoda stood up at the red square,

My eyes were torn apart

Bhav-Bhavna Veri, You Morari turned out to be deceitful.....

Atlas's ghaghra, Kasumbal's color odhani,

Regarding Sole Adakhom Sohe

Blinking, flickering,

Kandoro Zule Tribhange

Soot around the eyes

Cracked sandalwood peel

Zanzar felt a dull ache while humming

Ghanshyam Sakhirange

Madan brought a charm,

As Honharvi lands the dagger

Bhav-Bhavna Veri, You Morari turned out to be deceitful....

Shake the dough with kunkusam pani

The first place was taken

Saghli Bainu put the suspicion of form,

He looked at me

The whole universe looks at Nathan of the first

Games in the form of games

Vishweshwar took the form of Vama

One thing said unspoken

Jujava the name-form of Nedo Te Nedo,

The body is just a platform

Bhav-Bhavna Veri, you have turned out to be deceitful Morari!

How new and new, yet this song tells something connected with our roots! We have the idea of ​​Ardhanarinteshwar where male and prakriti, female and shakti unite. It is true that the two energies meet, but Vishnu's Mohini form is well known. A man who has fallen in love likes to see his beloved cry. Pay attention to its payments. The feminine element has a soft male, the bow is not visible. You can say that Krishna took Gopi form. And the lover was so enthralled in love that he felt his sweetheart as a true God, and would get ready and take a kiss on the night of the bride! - You can say that too!

Well, this is the season of union and fusion. The heart is of love. In which there is no place for thought or business. Anjana Goswami's lines from 'Anjum Anand' are:

A fish like to caress you if you want

Go and jump in the middle of the sea,

If you have a real pearl

run and dive

Like a river pouring itself into the sea,

Holding back will do nothing

To the joys of Ur, to the sweet waves

Nothing is tied

He will sit on the edge and dabble like this

So why would you enjoy the sea?

Sakhi, what will expensive pearls get?

Just as the potter's wheel rotates and the mold is formed, the body turns into a ball and shapes the joy. As soon as he sees her taking juice, the college of men is full of juice. It is as if the sun is ashamed to see the moon. Seeing a beetle fills the bud. The magic spell created by the hail of cheers remains! Rinal Patel's lines come to mind when you watch the random sighs in the mobile as a video.

Even if he doesn't have it, he does Terwan Jugari

Can smell the climate of the screen sorcery

That's how we frolicked, without any intention

We did not know that the frown will do magic!

(Title : Usha Upadhyay)

Xing Thing

This rakzak is only for your one malakat

We have a lot of work left!