#Songs with Word Dil

[petewentzisblack1312]

i do not like frank iero very much at the best of times. and now youre telling me hes selling his old junk for a premium. seriously.

[hotvintagepoll]

FINAL POLL OF ROUND 3

Propaganda

Glynis Johns (Mary Poppins, The Court Jester)—LISTEN, I'd let that woman's voice with all its gravely hoarseness (positive) wash over me all goddamn day, but if that's not enough she managed to play the straight woman to Danny Kaye's jester, all with her cleavage so plunging it might as well have been catapulted into the ocean right after Basil Rathbone

Meena Kumari (Sharada, Dil Apna Aur Preet Parai, Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam)— Meena Kumari was Indian actress and poet, regarded as the "Tragedy Queen of Bollywood" due to her legendary performances in emotionally charged roles. Using words from her biographer: "She had many dimensions — she read poetry, had many literary friends, [and] aspired to the higher life." Meena had an incredibly difficult life, and translated this pain into her volatile acting performances. She is an artist beloved and revered by her fans.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Glynis Johns:

She walks the line between sexy and cute. Her best role for me is in "The Court Jester as Maid Jean. She's fantastic as the soft but tough captain of the outlaw band and she looks stunning in every gown she wears throughout the film. And of course we can't forget her iconic turn as the suffragette mother, Mrs. Banks, in Mary Poppins! Also shoutout to her distinctive and beautiful voice, kind of smoky and husky. Extremely hot and set her apart from many of her peers."

"She was amazing in Mary Poppins (the Suffragette song is severely underrated) and apparently she was Welsh? National pride! And she advocated for arts funding in Wales, which is very cool. Also, she died recently (RIP) making her one of the last survivors of the Golden Age of Hollywood, according to Wikipedia. Also also, she just has a cheeky energy I like? And her eyes are beautiful!"

"She had this wonderful wit and charm to her no matter the role and the most distinctive, striking voice!"

"I mean, incredibly beautiful and talented, can do drama can do comedy. And she was a mermaid."

"Like Bette Davis she has eyes to die for. Unlike Bette Davis you felt comforted by them, even when she was batting her eyelashes at you. Would glady go to Downing Street with her and throw things at the Prime minister"

"Listen, listen. I was raised on Mary Poppins and "Votes for women! (step in time)" single-handedly taught me how to be a feminist. Also The Court Jester is one of my favourite movies of all time and she is UNBELIEVABLY gorgeous, charismatic, funny, and clever in it. She knocks several men out. Absolute icon."

"I love Glynis Johns. Most of the reason is The Court Jester where she's a sensible and capable foil to whatever what going on with Danny Kaye at the time. She was also the first star I based an OC on. An OC that I still have to this day! Anyway here have some YouTube links love u bye"

Mermaid clip:

Court Jester (sharing a bed trope):

Court Jester (seducing the king):

"VOTES FOR WOMEN! Well, votes for this woman. Please."

Meena Kumari:

Gifset 1

Gifset 2

Gifset 3

Gifset 4

[fishii-writes]

kamariya - kenyu yukimiya

paring: yukimiya x fem!reader

au: indian/bollywood + actors

cw: not proofread, intended lowercase, reader is a dancer like in that one scene in stree, yukimiya is the male lead for the "movie", yukimiya is mentioned by his first name, lyrics from the song are in Orange and italics, just yukimiya being a simp tbh

a/n: yukimiya brainrot. my indian girlies unite frfr!!! character choice based off of this moodboard a person made and. i. i had a vision. on holiday so i skipped out studying to write this (i'm cooked). Not really my best work but I wanted to post this bc I am happy to write it! hope you enjoy!! Woah fishii double posts writing 🙀

word count: 1576

best paired with: kamariya from stree <3

“practice run,” the director calls out, gesturing for all main actors and supporting cast to join him beside the camera station. the main leads, the main couple, are no where to be found. well, it’s not a big deal, since it’s just a scene with a song and dancing.

you’re a side character, a dancer, but the main dancer of the group. of course, the female lead gets introduced at this point in the film, but all eyes are on you for a good part of this scene. on you, your body, your movements and face. so naturally, you’re nervous, to say the very least.

“hmm, seems that Kenyu isn’t here yet. well, then, [name]. you can practice once more, if you’d like. might be a good idea to practice in front of a small audience, since you seemed shy when i last checked.” the director points towards a campfire setup, where the following scenes were meant to be recorded. you nod, following the others to the area where they each took their seats.

lucky for you, the other actors, both side and supporting roles, are kind. they hype you up, telling you to take your time as you both emotionally and physically prepare to dance. its not like you can just start moving your hips to the beat of the music. besides, it hasn’t even started playing yet.

you turn so that your back is to the small audience, as they sit in a semi-circle formation. you flex your hands a couple of times, hopping up and down to get yourself ready. one breath in. one breath out.

it really is as easy as just moving your hips. what’s the worst that can happen? losing confidence isn’t an issue, you’ve got a little hype squad.

one last breath in, the tip of your toes just barely touch the floor. you’re barefoot, to maintain your balance. you push yourself up from the floor, one foot a bit higher than the other to get into the “flow”.

you want to dance, you really do. but its too quiet. too awkward. eyes are to focused on you. you’re the main attraction, yeah, but… something has to lure the audience’s eyes in. in a seductive way? not too sure about that. maybe, that wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

lost in thought, the start of the song being sung by one of your back up dancers snaps you out of your trance.

“o seeli peeli pa ke o balam, tod de bharam. chhod de ghabrana.”

there you go. slowly but surely, you feel your shoulders loosen and your stress melt away. or maybe you’re just too focused to notice the others started clapping along and singing the parts they know.

unconsciously, you hum the tune to the song as your arms comfortably stretch above your head, slowly slithering down your torso as your hips take turns gently jerking up on either side. while it started off a little bit still, your movements became elegant just as fast as they became comfortable and natural for you to perform. the blouse you were wearing was somewhat revealing, but it makes sense for a scene like this.

“hmmm~”

your skirt, the longer piece of your lightweight lehenga, flows freely at your ankles. its red colour contrasts the soft blue lights that bounce off of the sequences on your outfit, off of the others’ faces and gracing your gorgeous face with a blue tint.

“dil ke saare button khol de, khul ke bol de,”

you expect your voice to come out a little bit squeaky, but to your surprise, it comes out just as intended. you spin around, slightly lifting the skirt of your lehenga as you move forward. you let the light fabric drop back to your ankles, turning the audience’s attention back to you. your wrists flick in various positions, with your shoulders flexing at different angles.

“bata de tera aaj hai plan kya?”

just as you’re about to invite your back up dancers to practice with you, the actual song plays. it’s a bit annoying, but what better opportunity to practice timing? you move your hips to the beat of the song, the words almost wrapping around your wrists and guiding them to smoothen your movements, from your back to the very tips of your fingers.

“aaj bijli bhi girwani hai, fire bhi lagwaani hai-”

your breath is comfortably held in your throat for a moment, trying to correctly perform a certain move when you hear an exhale behind you.

“jo tu aa ke baby hamre saath ma…”

you brush it off, exhaling as your arms slither down your torso once more. wait. exhale? behind you?

“aa, aa, aa, aa ke…”

you can’t turn around. it’s obviously someone from the audience, but you can’t help feeling a bit nervous as someone is quite literally over your shoulder. well, whatever, you can do this.

“kamariya…”

you finally turn around, expecting to be met with one of your back up dancers. but…

but?

“hila de hilla de, hila de hilla de-”

you pause, half on your tippy-toes and leaning backwards a bit.

“hila de hilla de,”

the person now in front of you leans in, just barely whispering.

“najariya…”

and god you can’t deny that there’s a good reason he’s been casted for the male lead. you can feel his breath lightly fanning over your neck, the tip of his nose just a slip up away from touching you.

your eyes flicker to the director, and he quietly points to the camera. its on. you either have to start dancing as naturally as possible again, or retake the whole scene. with the main lead watching. you take your chance, pulling yourself to stand up straight by tugging the man’s tie. your loop it around your hand once, a somewhat playful yet hesitant smirk on your lips.

“mila de milla de, mila de milla de-”

and he seems to have gotten the gist of how you want things to go. the other actors keep singing, some whistling and others clapping to the beat of the song to set the scene that you’re tonight’s main attraction.

“mila de milla de,”

he pulls you in by the waist, one hand intertwined with yours above your head, spinning you around. in an almost comical manner, one hand rests on your lower back as he leans you down.

“kamariya…”

so this is Kenyu Yukimiya. the Kenyu Yukimiya.

this is the closest you’ve been to the male lead. and oh boy, do you wish you were the female lead for such a movie. well, this is your moment. the “audience” whistles again, while Kenyu’s supporting actor, someone who is meant to be his best friend in the cast, drags him to sit back down.

your back up dancers spread out a bit more, and the camera stops. for a moment, anyways. the director calls out for everyone to stay in their positions, as the camera crew quickly moves the camera to be directed on you. well, here goes nothing. the scene right before the female lead will be introduced, you’ve got to make your mark and show the world you talent. the camera turns back on, and the “audience” starts singing again. they start of quiet, slowly growing louder as you regain your confidence.

“hila de hilla de,”

one flick of your wrist above your head,

“hila de hilla de,”

and a slither of your arm down your waist from your other arm.

“hila de hilla de-”

and you know his eyes are on you. they follow each of your movements, almost sparkling as bright as the blue lights reflecting off of the sequences on your lehenga. but why?

“najariya…”

you hear him just barely say under his breath, over the loud music and even louder singing.

“mila de milla de,”

what’s so fascinating about your dancing that he forgets his very queue for the next scene where the female lead is introduced? hah, loser.

“mila de milla de,”

you can’t deny that you slightly slow down your movements, just to watch the way his eyes follow your hips. the way they slowly meet your eyes, a crooked smile on his gorgeous face as he fights the urge to join you to dance once more. one chance, one chance he wants with you!

“mila de milla de,”

well, fuck it. off script? barely even following the plot of this movie, at this point. he stands back up, taking your hand and spinning you around. you’re a bit surprised, you didn’t actually expect him to give into his urges and dance with you. but hey, you’re not complaining.

“ho.. haye re mera dil le le!”

he sings between his laughs, leaning in close enough for you to be able to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose with your free hand. you’re tempted to do that, just to get him flustered. you would’ve done something to get him embarrassed if the director didn’t yell out “cut!” right when the sparks were erupting between you two.

“take five minutes, then from the top!” the director calls out, letting you leave to freshen up. but Kenyu stays in place, he’s still smitten by the way you move.

“najariya…” you hear him mutter under his breath, not in a musical manner. out of genuine desire for you to stay.

maybe another time, since you’re sure his eyes are on you.

taglist: @tofumixp , @shrii-kk , @motchilyn , @starrissm , @4ngelfries , @thegolden-tigeress , @alkaisen + open (send an ask if you'd like to be added! :D)

likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated!! <3

© fishii-writes 2024

[raindropsofloev]

Bollywood and it's beautiful songs of the word "pal"

Main pal do pal ka shayar hu

Bichhad gaya harr saathi de kar pal do pal ka saath

Pal pal dil ke paas tum rheti ho

Aane wala pal jaane wala hai

Pal pal pal harr pal

[garbinge]

Charming Life (7/?)

Opie Winston x Teller!SisterOC Joanne ‘Jo’ Teller Jax Teller & OC Joanne Teller 30 Day Fic Challenge (18/30)

Chapter Index 

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Siblings fighting again, light angst, but other than that mostly fluffy.

Charming Life Taglist: @drabbles-mc​ @livingdeadblondequeen​ @justreblogginfics @chloe-skywalker @kmc1989

“Hey.” Opie’s voice caused Jo to turn around, almost knocking over her salon chair. 

“Hey.” She laughed and steadied herself. 

“You alright?” He frowned, taking a step closer to her. “Yea, sorry just a weird day.” 

“Micky?” Opie frowned and asked. 

“No, why? What do you know?” The girl got nervous, quick. 

“Nothin’, no. Just see you get like this when it’s gotta do with that piece of shit.” 

“For once my problems have nothing to do with him.” She laughed and ran her hands through her hair again. 

Opie frowned looking for an answer from her and she just shook her head. “Jax and I got into it, feel like we haven’t fought like that since we were teenagers and I was yelling at him to turn his music down or he was pushing me down the stairs to get the passenger seat the rare times Gemma took us to school. This was bad, Ope. He said some awful shit.” 

“I remember way worse fights than that.” Opie laughed and wrapped his arm around Jo as he recalled the fight he witnessed first hand. “Think he asked you what it’s like to be so perfect and it snowballed from there.” 

“I pushed him in Gemma’s azaleas, she still hasn’t forgiven me for that.” Her head was pressed against Opie’s chest. 

“He’ll come around.” He was now rubbing her back with his arm. “How you holding up about Luanne?” 

“I’m fine, more worried about my mom. She asked to watch Dil today, think she’s trying to break the cloud around her.” Jo spoke still soaking in every minute of this embrace with Opie. 

“You off work?” Opie asked, hoping it meant he could spend some time with Jo. 

“No, I have a 4:30 client. Who always shows up late and wants a full head of highlights, shit take’s forever.” She sighed. “What’re you doing tonight?” She peeled away from his chest to look up at him. “Want to hang then? I can pick the kids up and have ‘em sleep at my place. We could watch a movie.” She shrugged. 

Opie sighed and dipped his head. “I’ve got club shit tonight. Don’t worry about the kids, Bobby’s sister is watching them.” 

Jo looked up and raised her eyebrows. “You’d be better having Bobby himself watch them.” She teased. “I’ll pick them up, they can stay at my place. Dil loves having them around, I think she breaks them out of their shell.” 

“She does, Ellie was mumbling that song Dillon is always singing around the club the other day. I’m lucky to get her to say more than 5 words a day.” Opie laughed. 

“See. I’ll pick ‘em up after this client. I’ll see you in the morning.” Jo leaned up and placed a quick kiss to Opie’s lips. It was still an unsure thing, the two hadn’t really discussed anything, which was typical, but one thing that was certain without words was something shifted with them. 

“Everything’s going to be okay.” Opie caught Jo’s head before she pulled away too far. 

“I really hope that’s true.” She closed her eyes and before another word could come from her mouth, another kiss was being placed on her lips, this one more passionate than the one she left on Opie, this one he was holding her close like taking any time away from doing exactly this would paralyze him, but his touch was light and tender on her so as not to make her uncomfortable. The kiss was long, and Jo practically melted into him again. She felt the butterflies in her stomach full force, still almost a dream to her that this was her reality. 

_____

As Jo pulled into TM the next morning, she saw Gemma walking from the office to her car. 

“Hey!” She called to her mother before stepping out of the car. Gemma turned and frowned. 

“What’re you doing here so early?” 

“Wanted to check in on you, plus I’m meeting Opie, going to grab breakfast with everyone.” She pointed to her backseat which had all 3 kids. 

Gemma smirked and thought to ask more questions but held off. “I’m headed to give Wayne a ride. Just needed to drop off some paperwork I brought home last night.” 

“How you holding up?” Jo genuinely asked her mother. 

“I’m fine.” She answered quickly and clearly lying straight through her teeth. 

“Here if you need anything.” Joanne spoke just as the rumbles of motorcycles began to sound from down the street. 

“Looks like your breakfast date awaits you.” Gemma’s eyebrows raised and she smiled again before peering into the car to see the kids. 

Jax and Opie pulled up. Opie offered a quick wave as he moved to debrief with the rest of the guys, leaving Jax by himself. Jo would have easily ignored her younger brother if it wasn’t for Dillon undoing her belt and opening the car door to run towards him. 

“Uncle Jax!” She called out as she ran faster than Jo’s head could wrap around what she was doing. 

Without a second guess, Jax was kneeling to the ground to pick the girl up, all smiles on his face. “What’s up Dillybear.” She was now settled in his arms. “Going to breakfast, I’m going to get waffles, french toast, bacon, sausage, maybe hashbrowns,” she started listing off every breakfast food there was before catching her mother’s eyes and frowned. “and a cup of fruit yogurt because mom makes me.” 

“Yea mom can be annoying, can’t she.” Jax said knowing Jo was in full earshot to hear it. 

“So annoying, I hate the yogurt cup.” She crossed her arms and pouted. 

“Dillon, c’mon get back in the car, we’re gonna head out soon.” Jo’s voice was stern. 

“Do I have to eat the yogurt cup.” She tried to negotiate, a tactic she probably picked up from Gemma. 

“Yes, but if you eat the yogurt cup you’ll get chocolate chips in your pancakes.” 

“Deal.” The little girl was squirming out of Jax’s arms and running back to the car. 

“I don’t appreciate you negating me to my kid.” 

“It wasn’t a big deal, relax.” Jax laughed it off, annoyed himself. 

“Nothing’s a big deal to you because you don’t have to deal with it, it’s Jax’s world and we’re all just living in it.” 

“You really want to start this right now?” Jax looked like he was eager to fight with her. 

“I didn’t start shit, Jax. You started this by keeping that shit to yourself.” She pointed at him, it took everything in her not to step up and let her finger lay into him. 

“Can you just trust that I’m going to fix shit?” 

“You can’t seem to trust me, why should I trust you?” She pinned it back on him. 

“Call me when you grow up.” Jax was walking past the girl, shaking his head. 

“Jax!” Jo turned and it caught everyone’s attention but that didn’t bother her at all. “Call me when you actually want to be a brother!” 

It wasn’t a monumental diss, but it sure did get her point across. 

____

Breakfast was silent besides the kids murmuring and giggling to each other. It really was true, the three of them really brought out each other's personalities. While Kenny and Ellie became more vocal and out of their shell, they showed Dillon that she didn’t always have to be into the adult conversations. It was something that came with being an only child, she’d find herself in the mix of the adults, but now she had kids around her age more frequently to keep her occupied from that. 

“You wanna talk about it?” Opie casually brought up the tension as he picked at his plate. 

“No.” Jo was aggressively stabbing her pancakes. 

“Can I have your bacon?” Dillon was peering over at Opie’s plate. He let out a chuckle and looked to Jo for her permission to which she nodded. 

“Here, each of you get a piece.” He handed each kid one. 

“See you just have to ask, they normally say yes.” Dillon thought she was whispering perfectly but it just earned her another chuckle from Opie. 

“I’m so full.” He leaned back in his chair and looked at the kids. Dillon was so quick to copy him by leaning back as well and rubbing her belly.

“Ahhh, me too.” 

“You’re a funny kid, you know that, Dill.” Opie was smiling looking down at her. 

“Can we get pancakes every Sunday.” Kenny was leaning forward on the table, while his feet dangled. 

“If the schedule allows it, I don’t see why not.” Opie said with a shrug. 

“No, like all of us.” Ellie spoke up, still a shy voice, but learning to break out of it. 

This made Jo look up and she saw that the girl was looking between her and Dillon. 

“Yea, Ellie girl, I’d like that a lot.”

[humanitysstrongestsoldier1]

𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒. | 𝐺. 𝑆𝑈𝐺𝑈𝑅𝑈 x Reader

TW: cursing, explicit sexual content, death

AO3 LINK!!!

Summary:

अभी ना जाओ छोड़कर कर दिल अभी भरा नहीं (Abhee na jao chhodakar kar dil abhee bhara nahin): "Don't leave now, your heart is not full yet." - Asha Bhosle and Mohammed Rafi, Abhi Na Jao Chhod Kar, RRKPK Ver.

Regret.

It's a powerful thing that can tear a human down.

My regret? I was not able to save my best friend, my love, from the darkness that threatened to consume him.

He came to me in the night, claiming the very thing he had a grasp on since the moment I met him.

I just wish I could have stopped him then and there before he left me for good.

I wish I could have told him that there was no need to build a new world when he himself was my world, my home.

~~~~~

Notes:

Yokoso, watashi no Tumblr society...

i literally forgot this existed until i opened my google drive lmfaoo

yeh i had to use that song lol

translations will be in parentheses

~~~~~

“(Name)! You have to eat this cake; it's literally so good!” Gojo shouts from across the room, a beaming smile on his face.

“I will! Later, I promise.” I yelled back, and I got a happier smile from him again.

Satoru and Shoko had planned a little farewell party for me because of the fact that I was going to continue my studies in England. Nanami was also here, but like me, he chose to sit in silence, lightly sipping from the champagne in his glass. Other people that I knew from college and Jujutsu High were present as well. Even though my home was bright and lively, something was missing. Or, in this case, someone.

Suguru Geto. The calm to my storm.

I had the fattest crush on him in high school, and I'm sure he knew. That's why he flirted and teased me a lot. But beyond that, he was always there to listen to my little nerdy talks. Or even my rage talks. He would just sit there with a gentle smile on his face, ready to digest some random information about astrophysics. Hell, he would even ask questions afterwards. He was the peace in my chaos. Until he became chaos itself. The news of his massacre and defection did not shock me as much as I hoped it would. After Riko and Yu's deaths, he was slowly falling into a pit of darkness. With Satoru out on solo missions and me being busy with college applications and entrance studying, we weren't there to give him a hand to pull him out of that abyss. To this day, that is still Satoru and my greatest regret.

I thought our bond was unbreakable; he himself told me so.

One night, I was woken up from a nightmare at Satoru’s house during a sleepover. In that god-horrid vision, Satoru and Suguru had left me dead. I still remember the words Suguru said in the dream: “Leave her; she's no good for us.”

It was really hard for me to sleep after that, so I headed to the kitchen and found Suguru drinking a glass of water. I explained to him what happened, and he held me, his arms around my body and legs tangled for the entire night. He helped me sleep and promised that he would never leave me. Now that “promise” turned out to be futile. That unbreakable bond that tethered our souls was split, yearning to be joined again.

“You're thinking about him, aren't you?” Nanami said, lightly tapping my knee with his, gaining my attention.

I looked at him with blank eyes and said, “I don’t know what you're talking about, Kento.”

“It's okay to miss him; we all know how close you two were.”

“Leave it. Don't speak of him.”

He hums, acknowledging my privacy on the matter, before whispering with a gentle voice, “Even though you are miles away after today, know that I'm here for you. Because I know how much of a hassle it is to talk to Gojo, please never hesitate to speak to me if it's a serious matter.”

A small smile came upon my face, and I gently bumped into his shoulder with mine, an act of gratitude. “Thank you, Kento.”

“(Name)! Nanamin! Get the hell over here! We're starting cards against humanity!”

The two of us headed over to Satoru’s excited ass, who was reading the manual. That night was going to be my last night with them. 5 years is a long time without my closest friends, so I would cherish this night without any regrets.

—

“But (Name), I don't want to leave you. Even though I'm going to see you in the morninggg!” A drunk Satoru whines, hugging me so tight that it felt as if my lungs were going to pop.

“Sa-To-Ru.” I said, struggling to put his name together with the lack of air. I slowly pushed him to the threshold of the front door, trying to get him out. Unfortunately, his 6’3 ass would not budge.

“I got him (Name), don't stress.” Shoko says this from outside. She grabs the back of his shirt, pulls him the fuck out of my house, and waves good-bye.

Laughing lightly, I close the front door and head to my room for a quick shower. As I entered my room, the aura of it felt off. It was as if something that wasn't supposed to be there was present. Ignoring the feeling, I headed over to the closet to pick out some clothes, but before I could, a large hand grabbed me by my waist and pulled me flush against their chest. I realised it was a very tall man, around the same height as Gojo; it would be hard to escape. I thought of screaming, but it was as if he read my mind and put his other hand over my mouth. The arm around my waist forced me to turn around, and I was met with the very eyes I fell in love with.

Suguru Geto.

His hand fell from my face, and he took two steps back, allowing me to truly see him after so long.

“What are you doing here, Suguru?”

“Can’t I see my girl before she leaves?” He says this, smirking and tilting his head.

“I’m not your girl. I could have been, but you lost that right after you committed mass murder and betrayed your friends.”

“It was necessary. For the world I'm trying to make for you and for us, it damn well must be necessary.”

“Tsk, get yourself and your twisted philosophies out of my house.” I gritted my teeth at his response.

“Please, you are going to be gone for a long time. Let me hold you as I once did.”

“Out of kindness and the love I held for you, I won't tell Satoru or Yaga about this little visit. It's best if you leave; I would like my last night here to be in peace.”

“Held? The love you ‘held’ for me? Darling, I think you mean ‘hold’ for me,” he grins.

“I don't love you, Suguru, not when you left me, craving your touch.”

“Is that so? Then surely your heart's rapid pace and the blush on your cheeks are just my imagination, right?”

I take a step forward, raising a finger at him. “Listen here, you bastar-”

I was interrupted by his arm pulling me from my waist into his chest. I gazed into his dark eyes, and somewhere in there I found desperation.

“You're mine, (Name). You always have been. No matter where you are—two miles or even countries away—you are mine. I’m here to claim what is left of you, the part that I always held a right to.”

I shuddered against him, my fist curling around his white button-up shirt. “And what's that?”

“Your heart.”

In a flash, his lips were upon mine. Cold but dominating enough to envelop my warmth with his. He took the entirety of me in, his tongue clashing with mine. Small moans drifted from my voice, disobeying my heart's call. As much as I tried to push myself away, subconsciously, this was where I was meant to be.

My swollen lips finally pulled away. “Sugu, please.”

“Let me have you tonight, please. Let me revel in your touch; our bodies as one.”

“I can't, Sugu. I would be betraying my righteousness.”

“Virtuousness is fleeting. Love is eternal. We are eternal. Please (Name), let me show you the pleasures of this world. Let me make you mine, so no one in this world can ever lay a hand on you.”

If my friends could read my mind at this time, they would label me a selfish sociopath. But tonight was my last night, and if I come back five years later and he's not here, then saying no would be a mistake. Plus, high school me would be begging to say yes.

“Fuck it.” I whisper, quickly pulling him by the collars of his shirt and smashing my lips on his.

His hand made it to my ponytail and took off the band, making my hair cascade down my backless dress. His hands tangled in my tresses, pulling my hair back and breaking the kiss. His wet lips sucked on my neck, leaving dark bruises that would take weeks to disappear. As he continued his ministrations I made my way to his button-up, opening and taking off his shirt. Gliding my hands over his pecs, I could feel his intense heartbeat, saying one thing: my name.

“Hold on to me.” He whispers against my skin, grabbing my hips and wrapping my legs around his waist. He made his way over to my bed and gently placed me on it, hovering over me. He gazed into my watery eyes.

“If I had just told you that I loved you earlier, maybe, just maybe I-”

“Sugu, right now, it's just us. Don't focus on what could have been; focus on what can be.”

He blinked his thoughts away and dragged the chain of my dress down, my bare form meeting his eyes. The dress was thrown to the side of the room by him, while his eyes never left my body. His lips went towards the middle of my breasts, to where my heart was.

“Mine.” He whispered against my skin, feeling my heart. He continued kissing down my stomach, leaving hickeys behind. His hands curled around the band of my underwear and pulled them down.

"Suguru, please be gen- oh my god." I was cut off by the feeling of his wet lips sucking on my clit.

I took off the rubber band holding half his hair up and ran my hands through his black locks. His lips unlatched, and his tongue replaced the actions. Small whimpers released from my throat, and I yanked his hair by mistake, causing him to groan and sending the vibrations through my lower body.

“Fuck Sugu, just like that baby.”

He didn’t stop; he didn't even go faster; he was making me writhe under him because he knew that he couldn't stay for long, so his first priority was to embed memories of this night in the best way possible. Slowly and agonisingly, he licked a stripe up my slit and came up to look me in the eyes.

Tears fell from my face, and I was blushing profusely. “You look so pretty, like this baby. You wanna tell me what you want?

I bashfully turned my head to the side, and he chuckled at my antics. Suguru hooked a finger under my chin and ushered me to gaze into his eyes. 

“Don’t be shy now; I want to hear you say it.” He whispers. His beautiful lips curled into a smirk.

I blink away my tears, and with a shaky voice, I say, “I need you in me, Sugu.”

“That's it, my love.” His lips meet their way back to mine, and I moan into his mouth, feeling his tongue toying with mine. His hands make quick work of removing his pants and underwear, leaving us both bare in the dark room.

Breaking the kiss, I move my hand down to his seeping cock and smirk while looking into his wide eyes. “My turn."

I slowly move my hand down his shaft, feeling his slick moisten my hand. My thumb grazes his tip, which is leaking precum and he whines into my neck.

“ Fuck , (Name) please, I need-”

“Go on,” I interrupt, smiling at him.

Suguru gives me a quick peck on my lips and aligns his cock to my sopping cunt. His tip moved up and down my slit, gathering the spit and cum to make his way into me. He slowly thrust into me, letting me adjust to his girth. My nails clawed at his toned back, and I moaned at the filling feeling. He hooked his hands behind my knees and pushed them flush against my chest. His cock went even deeper, reaching places that made me see stars. He started moving faster, his balls slapping against my ass, and the squelch of my cunt echoed throughout the silent room. Suguru’s quiet whines and my moans created a harmonic melody that was pushing me to bliss.

“Y-you hear that, baby? F-f-fuuckkk! You take me so well, gods .” He says this as his lips kiss all over my neck.

“Sugs, I can’t- hold- oooh fuck baby pleaseee. ” I couldn't form words as he went even deeper, stretching me out completely. My back arched off the mattress, and he growled at my cunt clenching around his cock. His thrusts became more erratic, and he was reaching his end, as was I.

“Fuckk (Name), cum with me, please; I need to fill you up.” He groans into the crook of my neck.

My pussy clenched at his words, and he took note of that: "Oh, you like that? Wanna be stuffed full of my cum?”

I meekly nodded, unaware of the consequences that may show up later.

"Oh, sweetheart, imma pump you so full of my kids, gonna see you get all swollen and cute, yeah?”

"Ahh, Suguru, fuck, I cant-” I moan, unable to construct sentences.

His body curved and pushed further, and his hips pressed hard against me, shooting his load inside my gummy walls. The sensation of his cock and the warmth of his cum just added to my orgasm, and I came hard around his cock.

Suguru slowly pulled out, and I whined at the empty feeling: “I’m not going anywhere, sweets; I just gotta get you cleaned up.” He whispers against the skin of my forehead, placing a kiss on it.

I hum lightly and smile into his warmth. Fatigue was slowly crawling over me, and I wanted to fall asleep in his arms.

In a minute, he quickly went to the bathroom and grabbed a fresh towel, wiping my thigh and sensitive folds. He walked over to the hamper and discarded the towel into the laundry.

“Suguru?” I said, reaching out to him. “Don’t leave me like this.”

He gently smiles, walking over to my bed and crawling under the covers. His arms pulled me closer to his warm body, and he wrapped the huge blanket over our bodies.

I tucked myself under his chin, and he kissed my head before whispering, “I would never.”

“I love you, Suguru.”

“I love you too, (Name).”

That night was the most peaceful rest I had in a long while. The gentle beating of Suguru’s heart and the warmth from his body lulled me into tender sleep, where the stars watched over our resting forms.

(In the Morning, at Airport)

“(Name) don’t go, pleasee.” Satoru says, tightly hugging my body, which was very sore from last night.

Suguru had stayed for breakfast and headed out when he saw Gojo and Shoko’s cars. He left with a kiss that I would remember for lifetimes.

Gojo and Shoko helped me pack all of my clothes and drove me to the airport. Throughout the entire car ride, Satoru was whining about me leaving. It was cute, to be honest. Satoru is my best friend, and I would miss him so much, so I just held his hand, calming him down.

“Satoru, we talked about this in the car. I'm coming back! And I promise to call you when I’m free!” I say this while pushing him off of me.

“It’s not enough! Who is gonna make me rasmalai when you are gone?" He proclaims, grabbing hold of my shoulders. Satoru loved my native cooking; Indian food was his new obsession, and the sweets? God. He was obsessed with Rasmalai and Gajar ka Halwa. And he only used to like it when they were made by my hands.

“Bro, the ones from the store are not as good as yours.”

“I’ll facetime you and teach you to make it, okay?” I sigh, caressing his face and smiling.

I move over to Shoko, who grins brightly when I hug her.

“I’m gonna miss you girly.” She says, pushing my glasses (Gojo’s gifted sunglasses) up my nose playfully.

“Me too, Shoko.” I whisper, kissing her cheek and pulling her in for one last hug.

The overhead speaker buzzed, and the announcer declared, “Flight GS831 is boarding; passengers, please head to the gate.”

I sigh and look at both of my friends for one last time. “I love you guys.”

At the same time, Satoru and Shoko both said, “We love you too.”

I smiled as tears welled up in my eyes and turned around, dragging my suitcase behind me and carrying my backpack.

In these 5 years, I will make a name for myself in England and when I come back, I will convince Suguru to start anew with me. To a new future.

And when I set my mind to something, I was hellbent on getting it fulfilled.

(Year 4 of Study, Oxford, England)

I was heading home after a long day of researching Kerr black holes at the astronomy observatory, and my neck was absolutely killing me. These past three days have been hell on earth. With finals coming and my thesis paper coming to a conclusion, life hasn’t been exactly easy.

I have been getting calls from Satoru, which really helps bring a laugh to my serious lifestyle. Shoko calls every now and then; she has been interested in the process of getting a biology degree to help with her role at Jujutsu Tech. Kento also calls every now and then. He goes on about Gojo’s annoying ass and how he misses my scolding towards him. He kept his promise of being there for me when I needed it and truly helped me ground myself on the most stressful days. and, of course, Suguru. He doesn't call as often as Satoru, but when he does, we go on for hours. He loves listening to my research and the things I find. It reminds both of us of our high school days, when we used to stargaze.

He had called me a couple of days ago, sounding more serious about his “new world.” I didn't say much about it because I knew that he wouldn't listen. But for some reason, the days after that call, were full of unspoken caution–or fear…

I opened the door to my apartment and headed to my study, dropping my backpack off before heading to my room for a hot shower. The winters in Oxford had their bite, and today was no exception. The feeling of the hot water on my body calmed my stressed muscles, and the tension in my head dimmed down. Stepping out, I did my skincare and moisturised my body thoroughly, especially in this winter. I headed to my bed and plopped down on it before opening my drawer and getting my iPad out to read The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins. I was deep into the book until I felt the buzzing of my phone underneath the blanket. Checking the caller, it was Satoru. He always face-timed, so I was confused as to why it was a normal call.

A feeling of foreign dread washed over me for no reason at all. I didn't even know why he was calling, but I knew it had to be something bad.

Hesitantly, I swiped over the button and picked up the call.

“Hello? Satoru?” I asked quietly.

I heard a sharp breath being taken by him. “Hey sweetcakes. Are you doing alright today?”

Satoru’s voice sounded so tired. It lacked his charm, and he was unusually calm.

"Yeah, I'm doing fine, you?” I ask.

“I want to say that I'm doing okay, but I'm really not.” He says, his voice breaking.

“Hey, hey. What's wrong?”

“It’s Suguru.”

There it was—that dreaded news.

“Wh-what about him, love?”

“H-he.” Satoru took a deep breath before continuing. “He tried taking one of my new students. It ended badly (Name).”

“How bad?” I ask.

“He’s gone (Name). I had to kill him…”

A chill passed over my body, and I froze in shock. My brain shut down, and I couldn't hear Satoru’s voice. His words floated around me, and I couldn't move. Not even a limb. My jaw clenched, and my tears blurred my eyes. A sob left my trembling lips, and Satoru stopped talking. Fat, warm tears dropped down my cheek and onto the screen of my iPad.

“(Name)? Hey.” Satoru said, sounding more concerned. “I'm here, okay, I'm here. I’m not going anywhere.”

I shook off my tears, and I focused on telling Satoru the truth.

“I-I’m okay, ‘Toru. I need to tell you something.”

“Take all the time you need.” He says, assuringly.

I sighed, wiping my tears, and sat up straight to tell him about the night before my flight.

“That night. After the party, he was there.”

"What?" He was taken aback.

“I tried to tell him to go away, but he wouldn't listen. I ended up having sex with him that night. He left the next morning before you two came. He has been calling me for some years, but rarely. I’m so sorry I didn't tell you sooner. ‘Toru, I really am."

There was some silence on the other side.

“Satoru, please. I’m so sorry, I can't explain-" My voice cracked as tears started building up again.

"(Name), I'm not mad. How could I be with my favourite girl? I trust you. I always will. No matter what, okay?” He declares, calming my racing heart down.

I sigh, the pressure dissipating from my body.

“Toru?” I ask.

“Yeah?”

“I love you, you big man child,” I laugh, trying to distract myself from the pain of his death.

Satoru chuckles, understanding my way of distracting myself. “I love you too, sweetcakes.”

I giggle lightly and look towards the window, where a full moon looks at me.

“Hey, tell me about that time travel thing you texted me about.” He questioned.

I get up off the bed and walk over to my window, opening it to let the cold breeze in to cool off my body. I sat down on the long chair in front of it and put the phone on speaker, setting it down on the sill.

“What do you want to know about it?"

“Everything. Tell me everything," Satoru remarks.

“Tu pagal hai.” (You’re crazy) . I laugh, knowing he won't understand what I say. “How are you going to possibly..."

“Hey! Main pagal nahi hoon!” He says, shocking me with his Hindi. (I’m not crazy!)

“...Gojo Satoru… How the hell do you speak Hindi…?” 

“I've been learning since you left; I even have a tutor online.”

“Holy shit…what's your CEFR level?"

“A2!” He bragged. “I’m trying to become fluent so we can gossip. I even learned some curse words hehe~.”

“Gojo Satoru. You never fail to surprise me. Although you do have an accent, I’m honestly really proud. But you still have 3 more Indian languages to learn and 5 more other ones before you can brag about how many you speak. And darling, Hindi ain't even my mother tongue.”

He gasps, “I know, but Guju is so hard, I would have started with your mother tongue but shit, it's deadly! I can’t read or write Hindi that well either. I still can’t believe how you speak nine languages! At least I'm trying you chudail (witch) !”

“CHUDAIL? ABE KAMINE, TERI AUKAD ME REH!” I yell, stunned by his words. (Witch? Hey you bastard, stay within your limits!)

Satoru makes his little devil laugh and continues teasing me. That night was calmer with him.

If he hadn't stayed and talked, I would have been destroyed by the news of my beloved’s death.

But I knew that when I returned home, I would have to come to his resting place. I knew that I would have to say goodbye. But it didn't mean that I would have to do it alone.

(Post PhD. Back Home, at Suguru Geto’s grave)

Satoru and I stood in front of Suguru’s grave, holding each other close. I had made it home and ended up staying at his condo because I dropped the lease on my apartment. We both needed each other, so we thought it was a smart decision to stay close.

I looked at the name on his stone and the epitaph below it. It read, “Astra inclinant, sed non obligant.” Latin for: “The stars incline us; they do not bind us.” I remember when I told him that. It was the first time we went meteor gazing for the Perseids shower. He liked that quote so much that he had it tattooed on his collarbone.

The warmth in my ears increased, and tears fell from my eyes. Satoru took note of this and pulled me closer to him by my waist.

Satoru kissed my temple and murmured into my ear, “I’ll be in the car. Take as much time as you need.”

I nodded stiffly, and he walked away, leaving me alone with Suguru.

All the memories of him and me came flashing before my eyes, and I fell to my knees, clutching my heart that belonged to him. The heart that he claimed.

“Suguru." I whispered to him, the wind carrying his name.

“How could you leave me like this?”

End Notes:

ehehe ehehehe~

i just love the idea of gojo's dumbass speaking hindi, i bet he learned all the curse words and says them to random ppl 💀

okay bye madarchods, love you guys 🤍🩵

[oscarbewildered]

Tamasha, a truly overlooked Bollywood masterpiece, whenever I recall this film, there's a specific song that never fails to send shivers down my spine "Agar tum saath ho". It’s a song for everyone- the ones who believe in love, the ones who don’t and the ones who are trying. For even the ones who have won in love knows what it is to lose. The song narrates the timeless struggle between the heart and the mind. Tara, dressed in deep red tones, driven by her heart. Ved, in lighter beige attire, is driven by his brain.

In this moment, Tara tightly hugs Ved, as if pleading silently for him to stay. The way in which she holds him carries an emotional weight adding a layer of emotion and urgency to the scene, suggesting that words may not be enough to convey what she feels, and her actions speak volumes in seeking his presence. She's scared to lose him, and she feels like the relationship is ending. Thus, holding on to him as tight as possible.

But Ved reluctantly pushes her away releasing himself from the hug. We can see the tears in his eyes. He seems to be struggling with inner conflicts, caught between what he wants and what makes sense.

In a quiet moment, Tara and Ved rest their heads on the table. Gently stroking his head, as if trying to nudge his brain to fall in love with her. "Agar tum saath ho". But the brain is stubborn and determined, it is not ready to listen. It is practical. Ved looks away while they rest their heads on the table, he's hiding tears and feeling exposed and vulnerable. *Ved leaves*, "Bedard thi zindagi, bedard hai". Life was merciless, it is merciless, even if he stays with her. It does not make a difference.

"Mujhe lagta hai ki baatein dil ki, hoti lafzon ki dhokhebaazi". It's like realizing that sometimes words aren't enough to express the depth of what your heart truly wants, what you truly feel for each other. Love is a relationship in which one converses through shared silences, we see that here once again in the deep silence of Tara and Ved.🌻🌙

[chand-ki-priyatama]

@btw-its-tamanna

To the girl who is "DESIRED" by all....

To the girl jo meri "TAMANNA" hai....

Wishing you a very happy birthday Sakhi

This was the beautiful day when 16 years back this "APSARA" entered earth from the beautiful footsteps of heaven in order to make this mundane place earth somewhat beautiful with her lovely presence....

Starting off with how our friendship bloomed , it's somewhat true that the most beautiful relations are the ones which are most unexpected.... Our friendship has been a Rollercoaster of emotions , we saw many ups and downs , highs and lows but the thing which matters is that we always were and are by each other's side....

Life

It was always been doomed

I always had thousands of wounds

But finding you was like

Finding a shelter in the rain

Finding happiness in pain

Finding water in desert

And when I was divert

You came for me

And held me in a stride

Thus now I'll be always by your side ~Kaya

You are one of the most enchanting girl I have ever met , your angel like eyes see the good in many devils.... One of the most kindest being I have ever seen....

Sometimes you are "Teri aayi, main marjaavan , Zindadi naam tere kar jaavaan" and sometimes you are "Jo main raat hoon toh tu khwab haiJo main khaali panna, tu alfaaz hai"....

Words can't describe how much you mean to me , sometimes you feel as if you have no one but trust me you'll always have a sister figure in me , a friend in me , a girl who's the Elsa to your Anna , a girl who's Anya to your Becky , a girl who's Kaya to your Tamanna....

When I saw the video of your dance on Sawar loon I felt like "काली-काली ज़ुल्फ़ों के फंदे ना डालो हमें ज़िंदा रहने दो, ऐ हुस्न वालों"....

In your words "ek dum swarg se utri hui kokil kanthi apsara lag rahi ho"....

Sometimes I think are you even real cause you are so freaking perfect....

You feel like a daydream dressed in sunshine....

You feel like someone whom I can love and adore to death....

Although you'll always have a "Desirer" in me but I do hope you find your own desirer who'd desire you in ways you can't even think of , who'd love you till you are sick of it....

You are clearly a ray of sunshine in all of our lives and we all cherish and celebrate your existence....

You are the kind of person who's existence must be celebrated everyday and not on just your birthday cause you deserve every amount of love you get and even more....

I know sometimes you feel alone but isn't it the part of growing up , we lose our way , make new ones and navigate our way through a journey named life....

I hope this chapter 16 of your life opens up infinite possibilities , aspirations , and success in your life....

I really do hope that one day we get to meet and even go on a tour together....

You are one of the greatest friend I know and just know that I always am thankful to God for sending a sweet , beautiful and kind person into my life....

That'll be me and you in a few years....

Now I know you love the song Dil besabar by Iqlipse Nova and I love it too

So it will be a pleasure if you sing this song along side me....

"Naajane Mera Mann Kyun Hai Behka

Mujhse Hai Kehta

Tu Hai Jaha Hai Meri Duniya Bhi Wahi

Dil Yeh Besabar Bada Hai

Tere Peeche Pada Hai

Jaane Na Kya Hua Hai

Teri Deewani Ko"....

And now let's come to the gifts for our special birthday girl aka Apsara aka Tammu....

I couldn't do something very special so I did what I could

I wrote you a poem....

I don't know if you like it or not but this contains all my love for you....

Mind you that for this poem completely and utterly you were my muse....

Next I made you a playlist , it's a short one but I'll keep on adding songs to it...

Last but not the least I love you to the moon and back and I can do anything for you

I hope your special day is as special and wonderful as you are.....

So signing off pishachini

~With love always

-Kaya 💗

[theinfinitedivides]

listening to the PS:2 soundtrack again in an attempt to bite the bullet and psyche myself up to watch both films back to back in August(? that's the goal at least, if i get to watch it earlier even better) and i have been stuck on Veera Raja Veera for an hour and a half. i have also figured out my personal ranking for all versions of the song at last and it went about as well as i would have expected. it started to get too long for the f*cking tags tho so i decided to put in this post, we'll see how it goes from here—list is in order from least liked to most liked btw

5. going to start this off by saying i'm so so sorry to Gulzar but it's something about the rhythm for me. the lyrics are lovely but the way they are lining up with the music in the Hindi version,,,,,,, or failing to in certain parts,,,,,, it's not it. it's not it. it does well in the first minute or so and then heads downhill from there, and tbh it's not his fault i think it's just the sheer amount of syllables that they have to fit in compared to the original? and with that in mind it's not going to sound the same, obviously, but what salvages it from being a complete disappointment is the way we got both Shreya Ghoshal and Kavita Krishnamurthy as a duet in this year of our Lord 2023. Kavita, who still sounds the same as she did on the Dil Se soundtrack singing Satrangi Re and the Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam soundtrack and the Devdas soundtrack and the Yaara Dildaara soundtrack and the K3G soundtrack with Bole Chudiyan and Shreya Ghoshal who is a pleasure to listen to on practically everything she touches (Bajirao Mastani and Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi and that aalap just before her verse with Kavita here i'm looking at you) and— *inhales* *exhales* ok. do appreciate them letting Kavita take the 'चुन चुन चुन चुन / जाली रे जाली चिंगारी' portion in the Hindi translation bc she sounded beautiful there. (she always reminded me of Lata in that regard i think, and for some inexplicable reason i've by extension connected the two of them to Zohra Sehgal in some of her roles)

favorite line — 'दुश्मन पे टूटे जब | बिजलियों का वीर' / 'dushman pe toote jab | bijilyon ka vaar'. this is one of those times where the rhythm works in their favor and works well, and it leads perfectly into the rest of the verse imo. also @ that one guy going 'योद्धा~~' / 'yodhaa~~' at the very end of the song ty for your service

3. in contrast to the rhythm problems of the Hindi the Kannada recording is very smooth? i don't know if that makes sense as someone who doesn't speak the language but it's like water. like water in a stream just one after another going over the stones in the riverbed as it passes or the waves lapping against the side of the ship or the gentle sound wind chimes make when they hit against each other in the lightest breeze—the phrasing doesn't feel forced (ty Jayant Kaikini sir) and the syllables match the music as well as the original. ofc Rakshita Suresh and Sivasri Skandaprasad have a part to play with their solos in this sounding as good as it does, despite its ranking on my list (which will be explained in the next entry), and while i expected nothing less from Rakshita after Kirunage, this is the first i'm hearing from Sivasri and she blew me away. i had to listen to it several times to be able to tell them apart, and i might still be wrong bc their voice color is very, very similar, but they took what Rahman gave them and made it their own. (is it Rakshita that starts and Sivasri that continues? i'm thinking that it alternates between them with Sivasri ending that portion)

favorite line — 'ಮಳೆಗರೆವಾಗ ಬಾಣ | ಅಡಗಳು ಎಲ್ಲಿ ತಾಣಾ' / 'malegarevaaga baana | adagalu elli thaana'. this is where the river analysis stands out to me bc this feels like putting pebbles said river into a tumbler and rolling them over and over until they come out smooth and polished and just. right. (i am using the word smooth a lot to talk about the Kannada version sksksksk but can you blame me)

3. technically Malayalam and Kannada tie for third place on here (there is no fourth place. there is 4.75th place rounded up to fifth place and that belongs to the Hindi entry as previously stated) but Malayalam has the slightest edge for me. in terms of sound/pronunciation it's the closest to the original—i know most scholars believe that Malayalam descended from Tamil and split early on, so that might have something to do with it, but it sounds like a perfect cross between the flow of Kannada and the strength of the Tamil and ugh. pair that with Srinivas featuring and Shweta Mohan taking on that solo (by herself!!! and eating that sh*t like it was a duet!!!) and Rafeeq Ahamed as the lyricist and i play it almost as often as i play the original. (i was almost half expecting to hear the extension at the end in this version, that's how good it was)

favorite line — 'കടലിൽ ചുഴലി പോലെ | തവ നൗക കളിരമ്പി' / 'kadalil chuzhali pole | thava noukakalirambi'. i am in love with what Shweta does here, especially with the latter half of the line ('... നൗക കളിരമ്പി' / 'noukakalirambi') since she just heads straight into the 'വൻകടൽ...' and for some reason that is so auditorily pleasing to me. i don't have any rational thoughts behind that that's just how it is. her aalap before her verse is also breathier/softer than Shreya's if that makes sense but it fits her perfectly

2. Telugu. holy f*ck, Telugu. you put Shankar Mahadevan (i don't think i've ever heard him sing a bad song. ever. at least not what i've heard) and Chinmayi (Tere Bina???? Mayya Mayya???? Titli???? i'm still not over any of them from her????) in the same song you make every f*cking verse rhyme almost exactly courtesy of Chandrabose if Kannada is the sound of water then Telugu is pure silk and honey and the feel of something melting in your mouth and you expect me to stay alive? the actual f*ck? admittedly i may be biased bc one of my OCs is Telugu and i have been putting Telugu covers from my Bollywood playlist on loop for inspo but uh Rahman what the f*ck. what the f*ck am i supposed to do with that kind of genius

favorite line(s) — 'సమరం శ్రుతించైరా శిఖరం స్పృశించైర' / 'samaram shruthinchaira shikharam spushinchaira' & 'విధిగా తెగించైర | విధినే వదించైర | విలయం దరించైర | విజయం వరించైర' / 'vidhigaa thegincheyraa | vidhine vadhincheyraa | vilayam dharincheyraa | vijayam varincheyraa'. the f*cking alliteration? hello? also the 'veera raja veera' at the end of this version in particular gives me full body chills bc there is someone going up with the harmonization every time there's a new line. i don't know who it is but he's (they're? could be multiple vocals) going up and i am crying shaking throwing up on the floor having a spiritual experience etc etc

and finally 1. the top spot. the place where everything has been leading through this long ass piece that i have put you to suffer through

and ykw Tamil is pretty much self-explanatory i think: we bring Shankar back as we should but this time K.S Chithra (Asoka!!! Main Prem Ki Diwani Hoon!!! Bombay and Thoda Thoda from Indira/Priyanka and the live version of Jiya Jale that Rahman did in Dubai!!!) and Harini (also sang for Indira/Priyanka and featured on Varayo Thozhi from Jeans) are with him and Ilango Krishnan's lyrics take over and flatline me on the f*cking operating table. before it flatlines me however i break into goosebumps every time i hear it start, bc lbh it is impossible not to when you have the f*cking vocals coming in like 'காணீரோ? நீர் காண் | சோழ வெற்றி வாள் ஒன்றை காணீரோ? | ஓ அழகிய பூவே! செல்லுதியோ | மலரிடு போ சகி!' if you stay sane during that opening you are a liar get off my feed unfollow and block i don't want you anywhere near me for the next six years or however long it takes Mani Ratnam to make his next masterpiece. no coherent thoughts head empty MV playing on loop he and Rahman own me now they have the copyrights

favorite line (had to split everything into two blocks bc Tumblr was tryin to f*ck up my sh*t) — 'எம் தமிழ் வாழ்க வாழ்க! | வீர சோழம் வாழ்க! | நற்றமிழ் வாழ்க வாழ்க! | நல்லோர் தேசம் வாழ்க!' / 'em thamizh vaazhga vaazhga! | veera sozham vaazhga! | natramizh vaazhga vaazhga! | nallor thesam vaazhga!'. technically this isn't my favorite favorite line bc i have to do a seperate ranking for that below + it's exclusive to the Tamil version and i am trying to make this a wholistic review but. it's f*cking up there let's just say that. i think i mentioned in the tags of a different post of how i've been doing genealogy research and (in the process) tentatively confirmed the possibility of there being some South Asian descent from my dad's side, specifically Tamil or Telugu based on the stories/timeline of French occupation in the Caribbean and portions of the Indian subcontinent, and there's something in me that shifts every time we get down to the last twenty or so seconds and this hits. i don't know what it is, truly—maybe the remnants of the genes of my ancestors and their pride for their land, their language—but it's there and it's loud and if it's the right day at the right time i will start crying btw. full on sobbing like a little bitch. you didn't ask but i told you anyway

after all of *motions* that, i am also offering a bonus ranking of the section of VRV that makes me rewind every f*cking time it comes on in every language, bc it featured heavily in creating my eventual rankings and i would be remiss to not mention it. so here have this additional dive into my thought process during these trying times of hyperfixation rip

'आंधी से तेज़ | तूफ़ान से तेज़ | चुन चुन चुन चुन | जाली रे जाली चिंगारी | अंग अंग अंग अंग | लागे रे लागे अंगारे' / 'aandhi se tez | toofaan se tez | chun chun chun chun | jaali re jaali chingaari | ang ang ang ang | laagey re laagey angaare', Hindi — still at the bottom of the list here, but the inflection during the repetition ('chun chun chun chun' and 'ang ang ang ang') salvages it somewhat. nothing else to say it about it otherwise, since i already addressed Kavita's voice here earlier

'വാക്കാകെ നീ കാറ്റാക നീ | ശര ശര ശര ശരമേയ്ക | വേൽമഴ നെയ്തിട് | റ പറ പറ പറ വിറകൊൾക | പായട്ടെ പായ്വഞ്ചികൾ' / 'vaakkaaka nee kaattaaka nee | shara shara shara sharameyka | velmazha neythidu | para para para para virakolka | paayatte paayvanchikal', Malayalam — taking that third place as always, but its tied partner in the general rankings is higher up in this list for a change. i think the very last part ('പായട്ടെ പായ്വഞ്ചികൾ' / 'paayatte paayvanchikal') is what throws me off tho bc of the way they distributed the line, since on the first listen i was expecting them to go 'paayatte paayvan-chi-kal' and they chose 'paayatte pa-ay-van-chikal' instead. it's not like it decreases the overall quality of the song or anything it's just a very specific hang up i have. who knows maybe my preferred pronunciation would have f*cked with the meaning and we do not want that

'సుడిగాడ్పులా అడుగేయరా | సర సర సర సర | శరమే తనువే తాకగా | చర చర చర చర | చెలరేగాలి వేగంగా' / 'sudi gaadpulaa adugeyyaraa | sara sara sara sara | sharame thanuve thaakagaa | chara chara chara chara | chelaraegaali vegangaa', Telugu — this ties with Malayalam for third place and, much like it, my quirk is specfically with the last part ('చెలరేగాలి వేగంగా' / 'chelaregaali vegangaa'). my preferred is 'chelare-gaali ve-gan-gaa', they gave me 'chelare-gaa-li ve-gan-gaa'. again, not an issue, this is just me, i'm sure they knew what they were doing otherwise they wouldn't have recorded it like that in the first place

'ನೀ ಜ್ವಾಲೆಯು ನೀ ಗಾಳಿಯೂ | ಸರ ಸರ ಸುರಿವ | ಮಳೆಯಂತೆ ಶೂಲಗಳು | ಭರ ಭರ ಭರ ಭರನೆ | ಭೋರ್ಗರೆವ ಪಂಜುಗಳು' / 'nee jwaaleyu nee gaaliyuu | sara sara suriva | maleyanthe shoolagalu | bhara bhara bhara bharane | bhorgareva panjugalu', Kannada — there are at least two portions here that sound eerily similar to the original and that is why this version has moved up to spot two. it takes that water comparison i made and uses it to its advantage so much and it rotates in my mind like a rotisserie chicken at just at the right angle and it's just!!!! it's just!!!! God pls keep me from putting this in my mouth and biting it's too good

'கூற்றாகிச் செல்... | காற்றாகிச் செல்... | சர சர சர சரவெனவே | மழை தான் பெய்திட | பர பர பர பரவென | பாயட்டும் பாய்மரம்' / 'kootraagi sel... | kaatraagi sel... | sara sara sara saravena | velmazhai thaan peidhida | para para para paravena | paayattum paaimaram', Tamil — when this hits i blank out and come to at random intervals. cannot pinpoint the time the place etc but it happens and when it does i go f*cking feral. this one i am indeed putting in my mouth and biting bc the entire thing from 'para para...' onwards??? more alliteration more alliteration more f*cking alliteration. i remember someone making a post on here that said that certain parts of VRV sound like pearls bouncing off of the floor (was it @mizutaama? i apologize for the tag but i think that was you) and i think this is what they were referring to but my ears are that f*cking floor. i thank God every day for that

anyway mutuals (and non-mutuals who are just as obsessed about PS as i am) i'm sorry for clogging your feed with my opinions on a film i haven't even watched properly, pls feel free to roast me about my ranking choices. or agree but it doesn't really matter at this point bc even tho i could be talking out of my ass in terms of actually speaking said languages (i,,,,, do not unfortunately) i've said what i needed to say sksksksk

[qalbofnight]

Har Lehza Ba Shakal Aan Blink, And There He Was In A Different Form.,

POET JALALUDDIN RUMI

Hamne beparda tujhe maah-jabeen dekh liya

Ab na kar parda ke o parda-nasheen dekh liya

Hamne dekha tujhe aankhon ki siyaah putli mein

Saat pardon mein tujhe parda-nasheen dekh liya

Ham nazar-baazon se tu chhup na saka jaan-e-jahaan

Tu jahaan jaake chhupa hamne vahin dekh liya

Tere deedaar ki thi hamko tamanna, so tujhe

Log dekhenge vahaan, hamne yahin dekh liya

Har lehza ba shakal aan but-e-ayyaar baraamad

Dil burd-o-nihaan shud

Har dam ba libaas-e-deegar aan yaar baraamad

Gah peer-o-javaan shud

Khud kooza-o, khud koozaagar-o, khud gil-e-kooza

Khud rind-e-subu kash

Khud bar sar-e-aan kooza khareedaar baraamad

Bishkast-o ravaan shud

Nai nai ke hamin bood ke mi aamad-o mi raft

Har qarn ke deedum

Ta aaqbat aan shakl-e-arab vaar baraamad

Daara-e-jahaan shud

Rumi sukhane kufr na guftast na goyad

Munkir nashvedash

Kaafir buvad aan kas ke ba inkaar baraamad

Mardood-e-jahaan shud

Notes by scholar Homayra Ziad: 1. Sly beloved or ayyār: An ayyār is a “pious rogue” and Love often appears in this form in Persian Sufi poetry.

2. Many manifestations of Reality: This imagery evokes the infinite manifestations of the Divine Unity. A Qur’anic verse that is often cited by Sufis is: “And God’s in the East and the West. Wherever you turn, there is God’s Face.” (Sura 2:115) All distinctions vanish in the Face of God. This is the central idea evoked by Sachal Sarmast too in the next song. In a similar poem, Kabir says…  In an elephant you became an elephant An ant is just a little you! As an elephant driver you sit on top  the one saying “move along” is you only you! With thieves you become a thief You’re in with the scoundrels too! You’re the one who robs and runs! The cop who nabs you, is you only you! (A song from the oral traditions of Kabir in Malwa in central India, translation by Linda Hess) 3. The broken cup: The broken cup means that no category is absolute, and that divine manifestations are always in a state of flux. The only absolute is God’s essence. 4. “Until one day he emerged…”: A reference to the Prophet (the Perfect Human, insān-i kāmil). 5. Veiling the truth: According to the Persian scholar Mohammad Reza Shafi'i-Kadkani, the last two stanzas were originally: Rumi sokhan-e kofr nagoftast (nagofteh ast) o nagooyad Monker nashavidash Kafir bovad an kas keh be enkar daramad az doozakhian shod

Many thanks to Fereshteh Amanat-Kowssar at Yale University for pointing this out. I have translated the poem based on the original, which makes far more sense than the sung version. Kufr means hiding or covering up, and the word kāfir is used to describe one who “covers up” or denies the truth. Rumi’s words, though apparently blasphemous, are closer to the truth.

[bookns]

The Manuscript is that song for me off TTPD. Tortured poets came out April 19th and that day was already so important to me. It was the day my school was hosting Poetry Day (which I KNOW what a coincidence). The whole poetry day was a three day conclusion of a writing workshop. I attended the workshop as one of the fourteen students that were chosen. The first day of the workshop was held by a professor. Professor Kimiko Hahn, known for her poems and her vision of motherhood. She taught us how to express ourselves with themes... of elegance and disgust. I choose the theme of girlhood but truth be told, I choose my girlhood. The one that left as I turned 18. The poem was named ode to girlhood. Each line is a description from my life.

"It's frightening to think if i had not lived my teenage years the way i did, would i still be me?

Would i still made of Books and journals filled with the prose of my purity that has lead me to beg on my very knees.

For forgiveness or for permission. 

I shall never tell 

Only Pandora’s box could hold the truth to my convictions.  

Throughout my high school experience, I always had a journal on me. I went through 12 within 6 years of high school. It kept me grounded and allowed me to breathe. Something you will notice is that I mention many greek myths, and of course if you know this blog, you will know I am a Percy Jackson girl. Raised by Annabeth Chase herself, this was my love letter to such a series.

I am eighteen - 

I have traveled to worlds that are formed with words born out of minds that crack into the deepest of skulls.

After the war of my ways, i have learned that life is a manner that only artists can paint 

Crucial to the success of the greater good I made my choice of my future.

Will I regret it?

Will I ever make peace for whom I've become due to it?

None of us will know.

I am now eighteen, and my love for writing is the only thing keeping me ashore. I travel more than most people, always one foot out to see the world and yet I had stayed home for my college experience.

Being 13 was a treasure and a threat to my very well being

Every intake of his rosy red lips pooled through my lungs engulfing in a sickness only love can cause 

He was Polymepus on pursuit and I, the golden fleece tied to him as always 

“Tu meri dil haga”

You had my heart, 

“Tu meri dil torda”

And you broke it too 

This was about a boy that I had nicknamed my 'would've could've should've' boy. I liked him at thirteen yet I now know it was more than like. I had loved it for many years, always at the back of my heart, this boy. It's madness remembering how little I remember of thirteen. He was Indian much like myself and the language that I translate is one he and I share.

14, in hindsight was a wound to to my soul 

A Treacherous path that undoes all of your doing 

The thread that my Nani wrapped me when i was afraid whirled through her lifeless eyes 

It was my broken heart against the world, at least that is what it felt like when the ongoing pile of patients that preach prayers on my doorway 

A life lesson within ink 

I was 14 when COVID hit. The isolation that came with it was unlike anything other. No one will be able to comprehend the chemical change that happened to me that year. Memories of being a kid, sharing a bed with my grandmother (Nani), changed as I grew out of my childhood bedroom. The boy that I swore I loved, and in the deepest part of my heart, still do broke me.

fifteen was torture in a pleasureable way - a gun shot that set off no alarms 

It could have broken me - the growth of my bedside pills or the shrinking of my stomach 

But it was worth it when my pose in the portrait was picture perfect with my shiny eyes and crooked teeth 

Even Aphrodite would’ve fallen from grace when the reflection she saw in the mirror was my face 

I look back at my fifteen year old self and my heart burns for her. I felt as if I had to look like the girls in the screens. I remember it being an act. An act of beauty.

Dear Reader, sixteen was perpetual loneliness

Midnight brushed away my forlorn tears 

Helen of Troy, they loathe me too

Only Sisyphus understands me now- can catch me now 

Hollow as each step of the Eiffel tower that i had stepped out alone 

 The wolves that hunted me withering me with weight - either dust or diamond.

At sixteen, Taylor's Midnights album came out and it turned me into the woman I am today. My best friend had left me at this age, and it felt like the whole world hated me because of it. I had traveled to France by myself - I had always wanted to go - but during this trip, I remember feeling so lonely. It was a tragedy in the making but seventeen changed that.

seventeen brought forth anew 

Glittering in only the shine of my eyeshadow in the summer sun

Saltwater and sunshine were my afterglow 

That pressure had made me a diamond 

And diamonds are forever 

Seventeen gifted me with something I would never change back. Myself. I learned how to be alone, how to celebrate the little moments (the eyeshadow is a reference to my first time wearing eyeshadow the day of my Era's Tour), and how to be a teenage girl flirting with a boy midst some of the most stressful exams a high schooler has to take.

In hindsight an Ode to teenage years can not be possible without the idea that in every universe, the presence of vulnerability is a form only which a teenage girl - can posses"

"The professor said to write what you know. Looking backwards might be the only way to move forward." Kimiko Hahn had advised us to think about who we are, and how it reflects our writing. Then the actors that were hitting their marks...each friend that I had lost during high school were watching stand on the podium and tell my story. But the story isn't mine anymore.

[his-heart-hymns]

Mere hamdam mere dost gar mujhe is ka yaqeen ho mere hamadam mere dost gar mujhe is ka yaqeen ho ki tere dil kee thakan tere aankhon kee udaasee tere seene kee jalan meree dil-jooee mere pyaar se mit jaegee gar mera harf-e-tasallee vo dava ho jis se jee uthe phir tera ujada hua be-noor dimaag tere peshaanee se dhal jaen ye tazaleel ke daag teri beemaar javaanee ko shifa ho jae

If I could know for certain, my companion, my friend,If I could know for certain that your heart’s weariness,The despair of your eyes, the heat within your breast Would be healed with my sympathy, with my love,If my words of solace were a balm with which Your desolate mind, devoid of light, would come to life once again,Your consumptive youth would be cured

gar mujhe is ka yaqeen ho mere hamadam mere dost roz o shab shaam o sahar main tujhe bahalaata rahoon main tujhe geet sunaata rahoon halke sheereen aabashaaron ke bahaaron ke chaman-zaaron ke geet aamad-e-subh ke, mahataab ke, sayyaaron ke geet tujh se main husn-o-mohabbat kee hikaayaat kahoon kaise magaroor haseenaon ke barafaab se jism garm haathon kee haraarat mein pighal jaate hain kaise ik chehare ke thahare hue maanoos nuqoosh dekhate dekhate yak-lakht badal jaate hain kis tarah aariz-e-mahaboob ka shaffaaf bilor yak-ba-yak baada-e-ahamar se dahak jaata

If I knew this for certain, my friend,my companion,I would squeeze you, clasp you to my breast;I would keep you entertained day and night, evening to morning.I would sing you songs, soft and sweet,Songs of waterfalls, of spring, of green meadows;Songs of the coming of dawn, of the moon, of the planets; I would tell you stories of beauty and love,Of the bodies of proud beauties cold as snow,Melting from the passion of warm hands.

kaise ik chehare ke thahare hue maanoos nuqoosh dekhate dekhate yak-lakht badal jaate hain kis tarah aariz-e-mahaboob ka shaffaaf bilor yak-ba-yak baada-e-ahamar se dahak jaata hai kaise gulacheen ke liye jhukatee hai khud shaakh-e-gulaab kis tarah raat ka aivaan mahak jaata hai yoonhee gaata rahoon gaata rahoon teree khaatir geet bunata rahoon baitha rahoon teree khaatir.........

Of how the familiar fixed features of a faceAre all at once changed while still looking at them;Of how the transparent crystal of the beloved’s cheek,Suddenly would flush from red wine;Of how the rose petal bends from the tip of its bough;Of how the rose-branch bends itself to the flower-picker;Of how the hall of night is scented.I would go on singing thus, singing thus for you;I would keep sitting, weaving songs thus for you...........

-Faiz Ahmed Faiz

[chyaptagolap]

You are so serene kaalboishaki. After seeing your recent green saree wala pic I don't knows why "kaise aab kahein" song started to play on mg mind and I even started humming the song.

Maine jana mujhme tu hai.

Dil hai nadan kaise ab kahe.

You are really beautiful. Really. I am losing words to describe how pretty you looked in that picture. The way you looked, the way your benuni layed on your shoulders as if it was sleeping peacefully.

You are really beautiful. Just like the coldness of winter and paata jhora bristi..

ro rahi hoon hiya i love you so much buke aye please

[sujeetsharma]

Is bekarari ki wajah tum ho

Dard bhi tum aur dawa bhi tum ho

Kaise bhulayenge ham tumko

Is dil ke dhadkane ki wajah tum ho

- Sujeet

Not going anywhere these days, so less stories but sharing my words/thoughts...and some songs. Someday I will sit and re read my thoughts and these moments again with the song.

[apoeticmess05]

dim-lit room as sun sets in its glory,

crimson reds start to fade

charcoal grey unfurled the horizon pokily,

crumbling of papers, scribbling of pen, disappointed sighs echo around the room

sitting near the dewy windows,

wanting to scream, squeal and cry

letting alone the A4 size paper to bleed,

vanilla scented candles, melancholic Spotify playlist on loop set the aura for the thoughts to bewilder,

Next song

skipped the previous song as it didn't match the vibe,

Phir le aaya Dil plays, it's the reprise version this time,

the solemn magic, desolation and slow pitch tones led to reverie,

fragmented lines, rhyming words, long stanzas,

pain, suffering, longing, a cry to reunite was all it took for the poem to end,

Next song

Khoya plays in the background, temporal beats and vocals overshadow the somberness,

relating to the lyrics, reading in between it's lines, existential crisis hits once again,

"What if I could create a version of me who'd listen to me the way I do?" "What if I could clone myself just to treat myself the way I treat others?"

Would it be selfish? or narcissist of me?

ardent urge to create a clone, a voice in the void, a being on a barren land resulting in voraciously reading Dostoevsky forms an eerie synergy

Playlist stops

paused the songs as mom barged in the room,

hid the diary and pen under the pillow

with the uncanny thoughts to rest,

fled to normalcy hushing away the thoughts to doom

~apoeticmess

[anchanted-one]

tagged by @greencrusader13 Thanks for the tag

Last Song: Dil Dhadakne Do (Let the heart beat) by Shankar Mahadevan

Favourite Colour: Red

Currently Watching: Want to rewatch LOTR. Maybe Zindagi na milegi dobara (You don't get a second life)

Last Movie/TV Show: Kaguya-sama Love is War.

Spicy/Savory/Sweet: I guess savory? I prefer cheese most of the time.

Relationship Status: Single, all but alone.

Current Obsession: Lana Beniko. My fanfic, Records of Heroes Past. It's now approaching 1 million words.

Last Thing You Googled: S***ide help

Tagging... @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @sheyshen @naaklasolus