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In West Bengal’s embrace, where the Ganges gently flows,

Makar Sankranti, Poush Parbon, a harvest festival bestows.

Named after the month, where winter’s charm enthralls,

Poush Sankranti, on the calendar of Bengal, calls.

On the fourteenth of January, under the Western sky,

A celebration of bounty, where spirits soar high.

Paddy freshly harvested, a symbol of abundance,

In the heart of Bengal, it’s time for exuberance.

Khejurer Gur and Patali, date palm’s sweet embrace,

Blend in traditions, an extraordinary taste.

Pithas prepared with love, a culinary delight,

Rice flour, coconut, and milk, in the festival’s light.

Three days of jubilation, a festive carousel,

From the eve of Sankranti, till its farewell.

All strata of society, in unison, they sway,

A cultural dance, in the Poush Parbon’s display.

Goddess Lakshmi revered, her blessings sought,

On the day of Sankranti, devotion is taught.

In the Himalayan heights, in Darjeeling’s glow,

Magey Sakrati whispers tales of Lord Shiva’s show.

At sunrise, ablutions, a ritual divine,

Worship commences, in sacred incline.

Ganga Sagar beckons, where waters converge,

A dip in its sanctity, a spiritual surge.

The Gangasagar Mela, a grand spectacle unfolds,

On Makar Sankranti, tales of devotion it holds.

Gathered at Kapilmuni’s ashram, a sacred abode,

Where Ganges meets the Bay, a pilgrimage bestowed.

Second only to Kumbh Mela, in grandeur and might,

Devotees from all states, in pilgrimage unite.

Makar Sankranti, a cosmic alignment in the sky,

A dance of the sun, as Capricorn draws nigh.

A festival of faith, a carnival of devotion,

In West Bengal’s heart, a timeless emotion.

In Ganga Sagar’s embrace, where tides entwine,

Poush Shankranti’s aura, at the Gangasagar Mela, doth shine.

Bathing in devotion, beneath the winter’s sun,

A confluence of faith, where sacred rivers run.

Kapilmuni’s ashram, a haven by the shore,

A pilgrimage on Poush Shankranti, devout hearts implore.

Gathering in multitudes, from far and near,

A celebration of spirit, where reverence is clear.

Hindu fervor echoing, like the Bay’s rhythmic roar,

A sacred carnival on Poush Shankranti’s floor.

Pilgrims in procession, along the holy sands,

With each step, a prayer, in devout bands.

Dipping in the Ganges, where purity unfurls,

On Poush Shankranti, the cosmos in harmony swirls.

Amidst the sea of souls, faith takes its flight,

In the grandeur of devotion, where day turns into night.

Ganga Sagar Mela, a tapestry divine,

Woven with threads of belief, in every design.

As Poush Shankranti weaves its mystical thread,

Ganga Sagar Mela, where hearts are led.

A celebration of oneness, where pilgrims convene,

In the sacred embrace, of Poush’s festive sheen