She starts her ascendance from Nisarg
Walking up the stairs of the river
wrapping wet clothes
The ghat takes a long aalaap
In the path there are gravels
and alluringly spread lantana twigs
A few thorns and
numerous colorful flowers
She walks in Vilambit
Holding those knotty remembrance
Home is not far
Not that near either
First that temple
Where there is a pause
and then the paan shop
from where the alleys begin
It is time to descend in abaroha
Her steps speed up in madhyam taal
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