BHUJ(Related to bhuj and kutch)

 Title: "Bhuj – Dil Thi Jodelu Sheher ❤️"

(Soft traditional Kutchi music playing in background… flute, dholak, sarangi)

Narrator (calm, emotional voice):

Bhuj...

Ek shabd nathi, ek bhavna chhe.

Ek jagya nathi, ek sanskar chhe.

Aavi rite koi sheher dil thi jodai shake chhe?

(Translation: Bhuj… not just a name, but a feeling. Not just a place, but a value. Can a city touch your soul this deeply?)

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[Scene 1 - Streets of Bhuj, morning light, slow shots of the local, temples and old havelis]

Narrator:

Bhuj ni hawa ma ek vishesh sugandh chhe...

Mitti ni, parampara ni, ane prem ni.

Aa sheher tamne sambhale chhe, jya tame bhuli jao.

Je Bhuj ek vaar joyu hoy, ene manevu mushkil chhe.

The air of Bhuj has its own fragrance… The fragrance of the soil, fragrance of tradition and fragrance of love. This city holds you when you’re lost. Once seen, it's hard to forget.)

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[Scene 2 A grandmother roti making in a village close to Bhuj]

Grandmother (smiling):

Ahiya rotli ma sughandh chhe, kemke aa Bhuj ni mitti ni sughandh chhe.

Even the roti (the bread) tastes special here - because it is the aroma of Bhuj soil.)

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[Scene 3 - Earthquake memory, ruins, silent moments, black and white cuts of 2001 Bhuj earthquake]

Narrator (emotional, slow tone):

2001...

Ek vaar aaviyo toofan.

Bhuj tooti gayu.

Mitti ni bhitar jeevan dabayi gayo.

Pan Bhuj... Bhuj to maryu nathi.

Ubhayu… nava sapnao sathe.

(Translation: 2001… a storm arrived. Bhuj broke. Lives were buried in the earth. But Bhuj… Bhuj didn’t die. It stood up, with new dreams.)

Scene 4 - Bhuj being rebuilt, new landscapes, children smiling as they go to school, craftsmen working]

Narrator:

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Aa sheher ne to bhagwan pan parakhyu chhe…

Pan Bhuj na lokoe dukh ne pan rangma badli nakhya.

Zaroori nathi ke Bhuj ma paisa ho…

Pan Bhuj ma logon ni ankho ma chamak chhe,

Dil ma mamta chhe.

Even God did not pass this city without testing… and the people of Bhuj took the pain and transformed it into color. Bhuj is not a town of money, yes, but there is a twinkle in the eye, a glow in the heart.)

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[Scene 5 Kutchi artists weaving materials, folk singers singing, Rabari woman in her traditional dress]

Narrator (passionate tone):

Bhuj – jya kala jivan chhe.

Jya har ek dhaga kahani kahe chhe.

Ajrakh na rang ho… bandhani no jadoo hoy…

Bhuj ni kalakari, sanskriti ne ghumavva nathi deti.

(Translation: Bhuj – where art is life. Where every thread tells a story. Whether it is the colors of Ajrakh or magic of Bandhani… Bhuj’s artistry never lets culture fade.)

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[Scene 6- Man feeding cows, children playing around Hamirsar lake, women drawing water]

Narrator:

Jya paani pan prem thi bharelu chhe…

Hamirsar jevu jivantu jheel chhe,

Jethi Bhuj na kone kone ma jeevan vahay chhe.

(Translation: Where even water flows with love… Hamirsar, living lake, despatching life to all quarters of Bhuj.)

Scene 7 Sunset at white Rann, camel rides, tourist taking photographs]

Narrator (soft, dreamy voice):

Ane Bhuj no najik Rann...

Jya chandni maa safed registan sapna lage chhe.

I have gone to Bhuj and it felt like…

Dil kahin yahin reh gaya ❤️

And in the Rann, and by the Bhuj, Moonlight makes the white desert dream. Visitors to Bhuj are apt to feel (their heart remained here.)

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[Scene 8 – Emotional family reunion, kids hugging grandparents]

Narrator:

Bhuj ek jagya nathi…

Ek ghar chhe.

Jya door gaya loko pan wapas aave…

Karan ke Bhuj bulaave chhe – dil thi.

(Translation: Bhuj isn’t just a place… it’s a home. Where those who are distant come back… because Bhuj calls out of the heart.)

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[The last scene, Aerial view of Bhuj, sunset, temples, rising music]

Narrator (soft whisper):

Bhuj…

Jya har kone ma ek kahani chhe…

Ek aas chhe…

Ek prem chhe ❤️

Ame Bhuj thi chhiye.

Ane Bhuj amara thi chhe.

Bhuj… the place where every corner has a story… a hope… a love ❤️ (Translation: Bhuj… the place where in every corner there is a story… a hope… a love ❤️ )

We are from Bhuj. And Bhuj is from us.)

Music (together with the sound of temple bells and birds) fades out…

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End.

White desert (Rann of Kutch)

 In the middle of the surrealistic India and far out west is the dreamy White Rann of Kutch.

In this case, there is the earth and the sky that combines into an endless ocean of salt.

Scene two, roll in, luxury vehicles, straight to the horizon-Rolls Royce, Range Rover, Lamborghini- paying their respects to Kutch by blowing up dust.

Are we on Mars or planet Earth? That is crazy!” the man in the front seat says.

We were the only people who could discover paradise... and take our luxury along with us! giggles the woman in the back.

Then comes scene three at the camp of White Rann: luxurious white tents that are decorated with golden items, chandeliers inside, welcome beverage offered.

We are in the White Desert, time stands still, the moon is dancing with the land says the local guide.

The investigation begins in scene four: pedestrians going barefoot in the salt desert, making selfies, throwing salt in the air to have fun with it.

The narrator explains that, the Rann is not merely a desert. It is an emotion. The sense of infinite. ”

The guy in slow-mo responds, It feels like I am stepping on a frozen sugar.

Imagine that you are scrolling through a drone shot of a group of five friends having fun in the middle of the desert. All are standing around in a circle with their arms out, the wind catching the garments.

One of the girls comments, throwing her Gucci scarf on her shoulder, that she has the moon and dream-desert to visit instead of the Maldives.

.

The narrator interjects: secrets of the ancient desert are disclosed slowly, it seems to the narrator, through color, tradition and subdued grace.

Another high roller, flings his hands up in the air, and declares in a swell accent, This is the dawdling life I paid for. Here I go with my money!”

Now night is drawing on to twilight. The sky changes into warm colors to dark blue. There are people sitting on the floor cushions, drinking chai using gold cups.

Even the air is costly here to-night, a woman behind her hands says.

All of a sudden the moon creeps up on the horizon. The sand is as white as light and beamed in the desert.

Says the narrator, low-toned, a silver sea in the spotlight of the sky.

The group goes, wow.

The fire turns out to be blazing. Traditional dancers are spinning, their ghagras are bright and they are kicking. Audience applauds and even starts jumping when the drums come.

A man who has court with a local dancer is pumping a fist. I was here to have peace but instead got a party, he shouts.

Within this silent desert, the laughter prevails, the cultures clash against one another and every person becomes a child of the moon.