This song expresses the beauty of Chait — the later phase of spring — and the inner world of a woman separated from her beloved. Chait has arrived in all its sweetness. It is Rang Panchami — the last surge of Holi's colour and abandon. Bulbuls sing in the gardens. The cool eastern breeze, touched with the sensual softness of Malaya, sends a tremor through her body and mind. The cuckoo calls, bees hum, peacocks rejoice, and deer move through the groves in restless delight — the world is alive with love and spring.But her beloved is far away. What should have brought delight only deepens her longing. Tears stream ceaselessly from her eyes, the soft bed feels coarse against her skin, and her body has grown frail and thin. Her anklets jangle and unsettle her further; her lips have gone numb. The sweetness of Phagun is spent — and Chait, for all its beauty, only sharpens the ache of separation. Around her, nature is full of colour, music, and desire, while her own heart remains hollow with longing.