In Odisha’s heart where the waves kiss the shore,
Lies the sacred city of Puri, rich in lore.
With golden sands stretching under the sun,
A tapestry of culture where journeys are spun.
The grand Lord Jagannath with siblings, a sight to behold,
In his chariot of dreams, stories of old.
With each rath yatra, the streets come alive,
A symphony of devotion where spirits thrive.
The breeze carries whispers of the ocean’s embrace,
As pilgrims and seekers find solace and grace.
In the markets, the colors of life dance and play,
While artisans weave magic in their own special way.
The sun dips low, painting skies in gold,
As the conch shells echo with tales yet untold.
In every wave crashing, in every prayer sung,
The essence of Puri remains forever young.
With flavors of abadha and khaja that delight,
Every meal is a feast, a memorable bite.
From the temple’s sweet nectar to the salty sea air,
Puri enchants all who wander, who care.
So here’s to Puri, where spirits are free,
A land of traditions, and the story of Odia jaati.
In your embrace, we find peace and bliss,
Forever cherished, in every heart, you exist.
