#Aarzoo

[reallyankit]

palkon ko nochkar aarzoo karna chhod diya hai

ummeed jaag jaati hai...aarzoo adhuri reh jaati hain

[bollywoodisforlovers]

Episode 153 - Madhuri Madness 2024: Aarzoo and Pukar

To wrap up Madhuri Madness 2024 we're joined by our good friend Rashmeet to discuss two action films in which our beloved heroine finds herself at the centre of a deadly love triangle.

Show notes:

Welcome Rashmeet!

Madhuri Madness

Madhuban Performing Arts and Urja Yeg

Aarzoo

Gaslight, Girlboss, Gatekeep

Obsession gazebo

Darkman

"Dosti Karte Nahin" and "Mil Jaate Hain"

St. Andrews

INTERVAL ("Kay Sera Sera" from Pukar)

"Que Sera Sera"

Pukar

"Hai Jaana Hai Jaana"

Are we Rajkumar Santoshi fans?

Torturing Anil Kapoor

Madhuri Dixit's emotional range and appeal

NEXT TIME: Detective movies

Find us on Apple Podcasts! and Stitcher! and audioBoom! and iHeartRadio! and Spotify! and Google Podcasts!

Thank you to Becca Dalke for the artwork!

Follow us on Twitter! Like us on Facebook!

[rajnipoetryvision]

अनेकता में एकता

अनेकता में एकता …… संस्कृति हमारीसद्भावना के दीप जलाना सबकी जिम्मेदारीगणतंत्र दिवस पर आओ हम सब ले शपथमौलिक अधिकारों के संग संग कर्तव्य पथदेशभक्ति रथ पर तिरंगा लहराता रहेगा सदासिखाती भारतीयता निभाओ इंसानियत वफा

[skyland2703]

This came to me in dreams.

Please read the tags

[rajeevpradhan]

[discoverkullumanali]

Mandi’s Aarzoo Rana is Winter Queen 2023

Mandi’s Aarzoo Rana is Winter Queen 2023

Aarzoo Rana, 22, from Janjehli in Himachal’s Mandi district, was crowned Winter Queen 2023 on Friday late at night. Nitika from Shimla and Smriti from Kullu were crowned first and second runner-ups respectively. A large number of beauties from many states took part in auditions for the Winter Queen beauty pageant. Finally, 27 beauties were vying for the crown. After multiple rounds for three days…

[pangeen]

" Meanwhile in India " //© Aarzoo Khurana

[maraasim]

Ye baat lab pe nahi aani chahiye thi magar...

Bohot kharab kiya teri aarzoo ne mujhe...

[whiskersonkittens65]

Aarzoo Khurana Photography

[siriusblack-the-third]

Hey I absolutely adore your Indian James headcanons can you do some for Harry too please <33

Okay this got too long so it's only Harry's first year at Hogwarts. At some point I might do the rest of his years but yeah. Here you go, i hope you like it :)

The first time Harry noticed his skin was darker than the people on Privet Drive was when he was four. The first time he noticed people sneered at him for it was when he was five and a half. He didn't understand it; why did they think the colour of his skin meant that he was inferior to them? He heard the words chee-chee and brownie thrown around like Dudley threw his food, and quietly pulled his shirt tighter around himself.

When Harry is eight, Dudley and his gang throw him in a ditch and throw dirt and soil on him till he's coughing and tears are running down his face. "You blend right into the mud," Piers laughs at him. The next day, the boy turns up to school with black skin. Harry sits in the corner and turns his face away, a secret grin playing on his lips.

He comes to Hogwarts, and there are so many colours. He is approached by Parvati on the second night, and she asks him if he's excited for Ganpati Chaturthi. He stares at her, and then says, "I'm sorry, but I don't know what that is." She gets offended, but they haltingly talk it out, awkward and stilted like most eleven year olds. When she realises that he's been kept from his heritage and his magic, she flies off the rails with anger. "That's it," she says, "we're friends now. No arguments."

Harry loves talking to Parvati. She's the one that tells him his father was from India. She's the one that tells him the names of his grandparents, that tells him of the importance of heritage in the magical world. They talk about religion and food and all sorts of things, and within two weeks Harry is asking her to teach him Marathi. It's hard at first; the grammar structure is more like French than English, the alphabet sequence is weird and complicated and has too many letters, but he keeps practising his svar and vyanjana and kana and matra. He will do this, he tells himself. (He doesn't tell Ron. He wants this for himself, he thinks. His family, his heritage. He wants to learn before he shares, and so he doesn't tell Ron. For now. He will, when he knows enough.)

Slowly, he starts talking to other Indian kids at Hogwarts. Padma, a seventh year Slytherin named Aarzoo who's Muslim and always has the prettiest hijabs, Gryffindor Kalyani from fourth year and Hufflepuff Rushabh from the third. Kalyani is from Maharashtra just like the Patil twins and Harry, Rushabh is from Gujarat and Aarzoo from Punjab. Harry finds it fascinating that India has so many different cultures and religions, and demands knowledge from them. Aarzoo laughs, and tells him he should have been with the 'Claws.

Harry disagrees. He was supposed to be in Slytherin, he knows, but he is in Gryffindor, where his family had been. His family had been Indian. He wants to know everything about it. If he couldn't have his parents, he would have that which had been a major part of his father's life. And so he reads and observes and studies and asks questions— hesitating at first in case they yell at him (Aunt Petunia hated questions and he feared these people would be the same), but slowly he asks more and more. He talks for hours with Kalyani and Rushabh, and they tell him about Garba and Dhol Tasha, Ganpati Chaturthi and Diwali, Eid and Gudi Padwa. They talk about the languages of India, and Harry immediately asks Aarzoo to teach him Urdu and Hindi. She laughs, and says he should focus on Marathi first. He pouts, but nods.

The Mirror of Erised shows him his father, and he can't take his eyes off. James Potter is a tall man, bulky frame covered in muscles and warm brown skin that seems to glow with happiness. His eyes are light brown, and the bold black lines drawn under them make the green specks stand out. He's dressed in what Harry knows is called a kurta, white and gold threads woven to form images of peacocks and elephants and other intricate designs. The next day, Harry asks Padma what she lines her eyes with, and she promptly hands him a little round metal box and a tiny wooden stick. "It's called kajal." She tells him the differences in pronunciation between Hindi and Marathi, and shows him how to apply it. Harry wears it everyday. It makes his eyes look bright, brighter than they already are, and he falls in love with it. Kalyani presses a kajal covered finger behind his ear every morning. "For good luck," she tells him, a grin playing on her pretty lips. Harry flushes, and smiles back shyly.

For Christmas, Aarzoo gives him perfume. It's chandan and mogra with hints of rose, she says, "and your grandfather made it. His name was Fleamont Henry Potter, and he was an exceptionally talented potioneer." Harry wears it religiously. Padma and Parvati band together and get him books on the Potter family and their historical importance, and he almost cries. Rushabh promises to teach him how to play Garba, and Kalyani gives him a cookbook for everyday Indian foods— breakfast and lunch and a few fancy stuff. Harry hugs it to his chest and thanks her with shining eyes. (he may have a bit of a crush on her. He can't help it— she's really smart, and she's pretty.)

Throughout the year, all of them work to introduce him to Indian food. At first, he thinks it will be easy. It is not. There is no such cuisine named Indian, Parvati tells him sternly. There is Punjabi, South Indian, Mughlai, Maharashtrian, North Indian, Bihari, Bengali and so many more. "The food in India changes with every twenty kilometres of travel," Aarzoo says when he mock complains about it. "It's never the same, and that's what makes it so special." He agrees.

The end of the year arrives, and Harry is still weak from his tryst down the trapdoor. When Ron and Hermione aren't present, his friends from home (because that's what India is, isn't it? His home. The home he never got to see, but is no less a part of him.) crowd around his hospital bed and have long talks with him, filled with banter and laughter. His Marathi is so much better now than it was in September, and he blushes when Kalyani compliments him on it. Rushabh winks at him, and Harry throws a pillow at him, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks at being caught out.

On the last day of school, he hugs Aarzoo around the waist and cries into her stomach. It's the first time he calls her "Aarzoo Tai", and she smiles widely, her own eyes dripping tears. "You will write," she says sternly, "okay? This might be the end of my Hogwarts years, but you are my little brother." He cries harder and nods, refuses to let go until the very last minute.

Harry goes back to Privet Drive with a heavy heart and a proud smile. He isn't inferior to the people there, he knows. He's special. He's Indian. He's James Potter's son, and he's going to live up to it.

[chand-ki-priyatama]

Zindagi me ek baar hi sahi par hum kabhi "Shayari" banna chahte hai "Shayara" nahi....

Kabhi "Dard" banna chahte hai sirf "Dard sehne wale "nahi

Kabhi "ashq" banna chahte hai

Kabhi "bol" banna chahte hai "alfaz" nahi...

Kabhi "aarzoo" banna chahte hai mehez "zimmedari" nahi...

[maihonhassan]

How broken Jaun Eliya was when he wrote this line:

"Itna tou jaanta hoon ke ab teri aarzoo, bekaar kar raha hoon, agar kar raha hoon main."

[qalbofnight]

Koi saleeqa hai aarzoo ka, na bandagi meri bandagi hai

Yeh sab tumhara qaram hai aaqa keh baat ab tak bani hui hai

[his-heart-hymns]

Hum milenge kahi baagh mein gaav mein dhoop mein chaanv mein ret me dasht mein shehar mein masjido mein kaliso mein mandir me mehraab mein church mein mooslaadhaar baarish mein bazaar mein khwaab mein aag mein gehre paani mein galiyon mein jungle mein aur aasmaanon mein kono makaan se pare gair abaad saiyaraaye aarzoo mein sadiyon se khaali padi bench par jahaan maut bhi hum se dasto garebaan hogi tu bas ek do din ki mehmaan hogi.

-Tehzeeb Hafi

kono makaan se pare -beyond any dwelling gair abaad saiyaraaye aarzoo-unihabited/unexplored galaxies

dasto garebaan- Very close

[mera-mann-kehne-laga]

Firdaus aur Jazbaaton ka janaaza

Kal shaam Firdaus aur mai uski almari saaf kar rahe the. Nayi cheezon ki jagah banaate-banaate kayi arson se dafan, dhool me sani yaadein use mil gayi. Unke saath arson se waqt ki mitti ke tale dafan gham aur malaal bhi beparda ho gaye. Humne milkar fir unn sabhi jazbaaton ka janaaza nikaala. Aur kar bhi kya sakte the? Unn puraani chitthiyon ko padhke, jinse abhi bhi use uske mehboob ki khushboo aati hai, mai kaise uss raakh ho chuki daastaan-e-mohabbat ko phir uski nazmon ka mazmoon banne deti? Vo unn khaton ko kuch der dekhti rahi, fir unhein neeche rakh apni hatheli mein unn dilkash bhoori aankhon se najaane kya dhoondhne lagi. Mai usse ye puchna chaahti thi ki kya uski haathon ki lakeeron mein mera naam kahin likha hai? Magar maine iss aarzoo ka gala ghont diya aur itminaan se use dekhti rahi.

Uski zulfein jab uski justajoo ko pareshan karne lagin, toh maine haule se unhein uske kaan ke peeche sawaar diya. Jab uski nazron se zulfon ka parda hata toh maine dekha vo nam thi. Uske ashkon ka sabab mai jaanti thi. Firdaus uthi aur khidki ke paas jaakar khadi ho gayi. Khwaabeeda nazron se vo najaane bahar kya dekhne lagi. Mujhe uski wazahat ki tawaqqo nahi thi. Aur naa hi uski mohabbat ki. Aakhir Chaahaton ki hudood husool ke tawaqqo se bhi aage hai. Mai vahin muntazir thi. Almaari ke pass. Bikhre samaan ke beech. Firdaus gham-e-furqat me gum thi aur uss pal me humare beech ka faasla bus kuch kadmon ka nahi, chaand aur aaftaab ke beech jitna tha.

~ Nisha

meanings dekhlo:

malaal - regret

mazmoon - topic, subject

justajoo - khoj

sabab - reason, cause

khwaabeeda - dreamy

wazahat - explanation

tawaqqo - expectation

hudood - boundaries

husool - attainment, gain

muntazir - one who's awaiting

gham-e-furqat - the grief of separation (from a beloved)

aaftaab - the Sun

[stickyblazecreator]

Kar hi liya hai faisla to ek dua sunte jao, is tute hue dil ki sada sunte jao

Koi khubsurat dilnashi Teri chaht ho jaye, rafta-rafta tujhe uski adat ho jaye

Is kadar sir chadhe deewangi teri, to ho neend me bhi to usi ka naam lab pe aaye

Wo na dikhe ek din to tujhe chain na aaye, khuda kare tujhe bhi muhabbat ho jaye

Tujhe meri jgah use Teri jgah banaya jaye, is baar kissa kuch is trah sunaya jaye

Ki wo khawahish ho teri, tu uski aarzoo na ho

Tu khudko usme dhunde par kahin bhi tu na ho, tu sajde me usko maange, usko sochta rahe, khayal me uske khud hi ko nochta rahe

Akhir me khani aise mod pe aaye, wo tere hi rakeeb ko tujhse bade Khushi se milaye, kuch bol na sake aisa sadma Lage tujhe, rooh Teri cheekhti ho magar hasna pade tujhe

Isi trah ye muhabbat ka silsila chale, kaise tut ta hai Dil tujhe bhi to pta chale.