The nine mystical nights: A poem by Priya Washikar

Nine nights of gaiety and worship.
Nine nights of dance and rhythm.
Nine nights of uninhibited laughter,
When all vibrant colors merge into one.

The color of youth and festivity.
The color of joy and reverence.
The color of unity and traditions,
These priceless moments behold ebullience.

Moments of togetherness and ecstasy.
Moments when devotion and love shines.
These moments are truly priceless,
Etched forever on the pages of time.

This is the magical time of the year.
The nights are more mystical than day.
When all are seeped in traditional hues,
And they dance their woes away.

These nine nights might soon fade into oblivion.
But they leave their essence behind.
The fragrance of felicity and veneration,