The rains, the festivals, the fasts the bowl runs over in Gujarat in the month of Shravan
“Aav re varsad, dhebariyo parsad, uni uni rotli ne karela nu shak." When the rains finally arrived in Gujarat, after weeks of teasing clouds, darkening skies and rolling thunder, this monsoon rhyme – something many Gujaratis of my generation grew up reciting—made an inadvertent comeback in my memory. Roughly translated, it means, “Allow the rains to pour and come serve the delicious bitter gourd with hot rotlis."
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