#family outings hyderabad

[abhi-views]

Neon Wonderland at Nagole: Dive into a Fluorescent Fiesta of Fun!

Calling all Hyderabadis with a creative itch and a love for all things splattery! Neon Wonderland has landed in Nagole, bringing with it the city’s first-ever neon paint splatter room experience. Unleash your inner artist and prepare to immerse yourself in a world of electrifying colors and uninhibited expression. Step into a Fluorescent Fantasy: Imagine this: you enter a 1,200 square feet…

[travenix123]

https://www.travenix.com/kids-places-in-hyderabad/

Read on to know about the best places in Hyderabad for kids for a memorable kid&'s day-out. From museums to amusement parks and theatre, our list has it all!

[kshetrafarmresorts]

Things you look forward in a weekend : Incredible Views of Nature with Courteous and Comfortable Hospitality.

[srbachchan]

DAY 5855

Jalsa, Mumbai Feb 28/29, 2024 Wed/Thu 12:04 AM

🪔 ,

Ef birthday for February 29 ..

This birthday wish can happen only once in 4 years .. worldcup ki tarah .. so it's very extra special ..

For .. February 29 .. our greetings to Anagha Sridhar - daughter of Ef Anjana Sridhar .. hope we're saying the name correctly .. her .. errrrm .. 7th birthday - according to the leap year !! .. be happy and always leap with faith and joy .. love from the Ef Family .. 🙏🏻🚩❤️

As you put in the home details there is a sense of belonging and an enlightened demeanour ..

Home is home .. it may be lesser than most , richer than most , non facilitated with the needs of existence , but it is home .. and nothing can ever replace its bearings , latitudes and longitudes .. they are the permanency that nature instills in us all ..

I am home and in a happy environ .. the happiest , and the most desireable ..

.. and the 'pundits ' of the times express to us all the true feel of domesticity :

"Home is the sanctuary where heart and hearth converge, weaving a tapestry of comfort and belonging. It transcends the physical, embodying memories, laughter, and solace. It's the symphony of familiar creaks and the fragrance of shared meals. Home is where acceptance resides, where love unfolds its gentle wings. It cradles dreams in cozy corners and stands resilient amidst life's tempests. More than walls and a roof, it's an intimate mosaic of shared experiences. Home is the compass guiding weary souls, an anchor in the tumultuous sea of existence. It is a refuge, a haven, where the essence of one's true self flourishes."

The last day at work in the elms of the city of Hyderabad, get visited by the exalted genius and his thoughts and expresses, that be mysterious and mystifying - Ram Gopal Varma , alias Ramu ..

And he pours out in a non stop breather conversation on films contents and the much talked about and meticulously practised - AI

Where are we going .. ? a mystery unknown and in its changes and revolutions by the day almost ..

Fact was never looked upon with doubt and scepticism, and disbelief as it is today .. what be real, non fake , is ever up for debate and discuss each hour .. living side by side .. almost complimenting each other .. but never the belief that it be the truest and correct .. information has 'inform' in it for its delivery .. but does it really inform .. or does it simply put out for its content existence .. impotence and all ... as what was expressed some time back in the days of the year gone by ..

And what of failure and despondency or its despondent exist :

"Failure and defeat linger in the recesses of our being, casting long shadows that echo well beyond the moment of setback. The scars of unsuccessful endeavors etch themselves into our psyche, creating a mosaic of resilience and self-discovery. Even when success follows, the remnants of past failures shape our character, fostering humility and tenacity. The memory of defeat, like an indelible watermark, accompanies us on the journey, a constant reminder of our vulnerability and capacity to rise. Yet, within the persistence lies the seed of growth, as failure becomes the fertile ground from which triumph eventually sprouts, transforming setbacks into stepping stones towards a more profound and enduring success."

Ride it .. wave it , breach the continuity .. accept the fresh abound .. and sail onto the barren sands of time , in the balance of dexterity

Amitabh Bachchan

[thozhar]

“What about ordinary and poor Muslims like me? We never had any jagir or any piece of land or even enough bread to survive the day. I know hundreds and thousands of Muslim families living in utter poverty. The ashraf and nawabi families – both from Muslims and Hindus as well – never cared for our daily basic needs of food, water, or housing.”

Jeelani Bano and Dasarathi Rangacharya also brought out the contradictions apparent throughout pre-1948 Hyderabad. Bano’s novel Aiwan-e-Ghazal features a set of Muslim women characters from various strata of Asaf Jahi Hyderabad navigating both the zenana of the patriarchal nobility and the forests that served as the battlefields against the princely state’s rural gentry.

Nizam-ruled Hyderabad was a dominion where the feudal oppression of women and the exploitation of lower castes were woven within its pluralistic fabric.

— Hyderabad 1948: Literature Tells Better Stories Than WhatsApp University

[shaonicwhite]

something that helps with feeling like you have no personal access to “nature”/the most lovely things about our planet and its ecosystems: remember that plants and animals that seem boring and ubiquitous to you are very much not boring and ubiquitous to other people. i grew up mostly in california, and i didn’t appreciate hummingbirds at all until a relative from india visited and couldn’t stop staring at them — because hummingbirds are ordinary in the united states, but they don’t exist AT ALL in india!

likewise, the last time i visited family in hyderabad, i camped out on my aunt and uncle’s terrace one morning and absolutely LOST MY MIND over the sunbirds. they were so small! and colorful! and there were so many of them! and to my family they were totally normal.

no matter how boring and “removed from nature” your city or suburb or town is, there are critters in it that are absolutely marvelous and fascinating, if you know how to look at them the right way.

[overwatchloresnstuff]

SYMMETRA lore

Satya Vaswani grew up in an extremely poor area of Hyderabad, India. Despite living in the infamous City of Pearls, in a city renowned for artistic expression and gemstones, Satya’s village was in a bad way. Starvation was rife, the water was murky, and the village was overcrowded. Satya danced to lower her anxiety, and visited temples for meals, peace, and beauty. They were the only refuge from the ugliness of everyday village life, as Hyderabadi temples are marvels of artistic work, painted in a thousand colors with large domes and statues raised to the sky.

After the Omnic Crisis, a singular corporation decided to take advantage. India, being densely populated and with millions displaced due to the crisis, was utterly overwhelmed by the scope of humanitarian work needed to put the country back together. Vishkar extended a hand. The corporation founded a new city, Utopaea, using their proprietary hard-light technology. Vishkar’s Architechs promised order. They promised peace, and full bellies with clean water in a beautiful city made of light…and all they asked for was simple obedience.

Vishkar was known for combing records, plucking children from their families. After all, once a revolutionary company considered a child gifted, there was massive pressure on the family to let the child become an Architech. It was a path out of poverty, and a child could have their stars changed with a simple sweep of Vishkar’s hand.

So it was for Satya. She was identified as being capable of becoming an Architech, by Vishkar’s inscrutable and very secretive standards. Her parents, reassured that Satya would want for nothing, were proud to hand their daughter over to the corporation.

There was one single caveat.

Satya could never return home.

She was owned by Vishkar now, and Vishkar would be all that she breathed. To become an Architech, one had to sleep, eat, work, and embody the corporation. As was traditional for Architechs, one of her arms was removed and she was given a company-provided prosthetic that could aid her in creating hard light. Lonely, isolated, and unable to even step foot in the temples she once loved, Satya buried herself in her studies. She entered the Architech Academy in Utopaea, and was assigned a live-in roommate by the name of Niran Pruksamanee. Satya found his relaxed, privileged demeanor irritating. She preferred strict schedules, clean living spaces, and for her roommates to rise and sleep on strict timelines. The other two roommates they were assigned were happy to fall into line. Niran bucked all those trends, but despite their differences Satya found herself fond of the charming Thai gentleman she lived with. The two became inseparable.

Niran, however, had a secret. He managed to create biolight, a living extension of the Vishkar hard-light. Biolight could heal, could grow just like the plants he loved…but he wouldn’t see it turned over to Vishkar. Ignoring Satya’s advice, he fled the Academy and left her alone once again. Having no friends, Satya let her studies consume her.

Satya quickly ascended to the top of her class, and was particularly gifted with bending hard light to her will. Unlike the other students, who approached their work with physics, geometry, and mathematics, Satya found a way to weave the light with the dances of her native Hyderabadi dances.

Satya caught Vishkar’s eye once again. She was taken from the Architech Academy after her graduation, and informed that she would be no mere Architech. She would be an agent of the company, sent on clandestine missions to enforce Vishkar’s will. She was given the codename Symmetra, and finally given access to Vishkar’s dark secrets. Unfortunately, having grown up with the company line, Symmetra could only see the good Vishkar was doing. Order and obedience had become her watchwords, and she willingly gave herself to the company to do their bidding once more.

Her first mission was in Rio de Janeiro, where the company was eyeing a contract to rebuild favelas in the wake of the Crisis. Symmetra was proud to further the mission; after all, how could people stand such disgusting conditions? No. Order would be established, people would be clean and well-mannered, and she would open that path. She argued with Rio’s mayor on behalf of Vishkar, and stormed out of the strained talks when the mayor showed reticence to give their favelas over to Vishkar.

Symmetra was wholly unprepared for how angry the residents of Rio would be, and stepped into the street in the midst of a riot. The tensions between Vishkar and Rio had boiled over with the help of Lucio, a local DJ and celebrity, and the favela was plunged into a full on revolution. Frightened by the sounds, smells and chaos, Symmetra lost her way. She found a young girl named Rosa, who guided her to safety, and from that day on she vowed that Vishkar would transform the favelas into a safe place for all of Rio’s residences.

Sanjay Korpal, Vishkar’s representative in Rio, was satisfied that Symmetra was so willing to…convince Rio’s mayor that the rebuild was necessary. He sent her to infiltrate their competition. After all, with no competing bids, the mayor would be forced to accept Vishkar’s hand. All they needed was a little blackmail.

Symmetra broke in, and after rifling through the Calado corporations files, found nothing. The company was running cleanly. Calado’s guards discovered her, and Symmetra was able to throw up shields to protect herself from the resulting gunfire. She rigged non-lethal traps to give herself enough time to escape, and report back to Sanjay. When Sanjay asked why she hadn’t just killed them, Symmetra responded that she only used lethal force if absolutely necessary. Killing and brutality were a waste of life.

Symmetra then broke the news to Sanjay; they had nothing on Calado, and would likely lose the contract. Vishkar’s response was simple, and immediate: so be it.

The building she had infiltrated exploded in a fiery hail, killing everyone inside and pouring down flames and broken concrete onto the favela below. The same favela that Vishkar was supposed to be renovating. Symmetra stared in shock at the display of cruelty, and leapt in to help. Her photonic barrier carved a path through the flames, and amidst the screaming of those caught by the destruction she found a trapped child. Symmetra used her hard light to pull the child free, and recognized Rosa, the same child who had guided her out of the riot. Rosa’s face had been burned beyond repair, disfiguring her for life.

Months later, Vishkar had indeed begun rebuilding Rio’s city center, damaged by the fire. As Symmetra and Sanjay looked over the brand new buildings, nestled amid the favelas, she questioned whether Vishkar had destroyed the Calado building and killed so many. Sanjay simply responded that it was the price of regrowth.

Doubt, quiet, persistent, began to grow in Symmetra’s mind. She tried to quiet it. Vishkar was surely making a better world. She had seen the proof of it…hadn’t she..?

Nevertheless, she moved on to her next mission. Burying herself in work had worked before, why not now? Sanjay and herself were sent to help a village in Roshani, called Suravasa, damaged by a recent earthquake. Vishkar’s PR representative Chandra assured them that if Vishkar didn’t start helping the village soon, they could kiss their development rights in the area goodbye. Sanjay told Symmetra to volunteer in the village. After all, she had come from humble means. Surely she could relate to these people. Symmetra was told to give the villagers anything they wanted; it would be a scant cost compared to losing development rights.

Looking over the hologram of the damaged village, Symmetra spotted something familiar. She asked Chandra what it was, and he identified the statue as that of Aurora, the first omnic to achieve sentience and the one responsible for the Awakening. The villagers would want more than hush money, Symmetra reasoned, and Sanjay tasked her with finding out what it was.

Symmetra arrived in Suravasa to open hostility. The local Governor, Ranesh Grewal, told Symmetra they wanted nothing to do with Vishkar’s evil. Architechs were not welcome. The gathering crowd of hostile villagers seemed to back him up, and Symmetra remembered the favela riots. She requested to visit a local temple, hoping to buy herself time. Hostile, the crowd seemed like they would deny her request.

Instead, a single omnic stepped forward. Zenyatta, a pilgrim to the temple, reminded them that the temples were open to all. He led Symmetra inside, and invited her to walk with him. The help Vishkar was offering would mean nothing if it came from poisoned fingers, he reminded her. She was welcome to stay, if she did him the courtesy of taking time to understand the people and the religion here. Symmetra responded that she was no pilgrim, she was an Architech here to solve a problem.

What was a pilgrim, Zenyatta responded, if not someone who journeyed to a holy place?

Taken aback by Zenyatta’s response, Symmetra reasoned that if Zenyatta’s philosophy had calmed the crowd, perhaps his way would work better than Vishkar flinging money at the villagers. She needed more information. So, she decided to keep an open mind. She walked with Zen, and he told her of Mondatta and the Shambali monks. He led her into the main temple chamber, where the shambles of Aurora’s statue stood.

Aurora had sacrificed everything to give the gift of life, true intelligence and meaning, to omnics. Omnics had awakened, as though from a dream, from their lives chained to servitude. Aurora had given them the knowledge of good and evil, the power to make their own decisions, and become true persons as precious as any human. Symmetra finally understood why the villagers had been so saddened by its damage, and was moved by Aurora’s story. Vishkar could fix it! It was only stone, she told Zen. She could build them a new temple, a new statue, anything they wanted!

Zenyatta responded that help could come in many forms. The history of the stones around them meant so much more than any new building. The statue of Aurora had been created by hands that loved her. No hard light substitute could mean as much…ever.

Symmetra had a lot to think about, and Zenyatta invited her to stay with him. He gave her a robe, and a meal. At first, Symmetra refused the offer. Vishkar paid for her meals, and she was no pilgrim! However…the colors were quite pretty. She relented, and for the first time in many years, she wore clothing not from Vishkar’s prim offices.

The next morning, she met with Zen again. She wanted to help, and what was she to do if not use Vishkar’s technology?!

Zenyatta responded by giving her a broom, and showing her where the villagers were cleaning the temple by hand. They were so ineffective! They moved stones by hand, swept with simple brooms. Yet, Symmetra found herself enjoying the work. Organizing, cleaning, sweating as humans had done for thousands of years. As they finished the work for the day, Zenyatta handed her a gift.

The monks here didn’t meditate, but rather used distinctive orbs to ponder. Orbs of Perception focused an omnic’s powers, and while rather useless to humans, were used for understanding. They could not make them hover like an omnic could, but they could feel. They could ponder. They could focus themselves around a single object and find peace. In this way, her mind could calm itself, and she could find the solution to what the villagers truly needed. This time, Satya didn’t protest. She meditated, and cradled the orb.

Over the next few days, Satya settled into life at the temple. She rose with them, ate with them, worked with them, and centered herself on the Orb of Perception. She went into the village with Zenyatta to serve food to the hungry, and while the villagers were still hostile to her, Zenyatta stood beside her. Grudgingly, the villagers began to accept Satya. She certainly wasn’t acting like a soulless Vishkar Architech.

Satya spent her evenings with Zen. They talked about her childhood, growing up within Vishkar, and the faith she had abandoned when Vishkar had taken her. Zen introduced her to the concept of Wabi-Sabi, the Japanese concept centering around focusing on the earthly impermanence of things. Appreciate all that is imperfect, for in imperfection is beauty. Scars tell stories of love and loss, missing eyes and limbs tell of resilience. Imperfection is what makes life worth living. Some might have seen the removal of her arm as imperfection…and yet it was beautiful.

On the next evening, Zen introduced her to Kintsugi, the art of repairing broken pottery with gold lacquer to make unique and beautiful pieces. Even though a bowl is shattered, it is that shattering that makes it beautiful.

Satya realized what she had to do.

Over the next few days, Satya reassembled the statue of Aurora. Instead of merely piecing it back together, she glued the pieces with hard light. The veins of Aurora’s shattering glowed with light, yellow, imperfect but beautiful in its imperfection. Satya presented the statue to the village not in her corporate attire, but in the robe Zenyatta had gifted her.

Governor Grewal, who had been so hostile to her, was in shock. The villagers were moved, and Zenyatta gifted Satya with the robe she wore and incense…she was always welcome at the temple. Sanjay was impressed with her work, but wondered why she had chosen yellow instead of the corporation’s signature blue. While blue was a beautiful color, Symmetra told him, she had chosen yellow for warmth. Love was warmth, and she had made this with love. She wanted others to feel it when they looked at the statue.

Symmetra told Sanjay that Vishkar could do more, and be more, if they acted more like this. Vishkar needed love, and empathy, and to find beauty in imperfections rather than demanding everything be brought to their rigorous standards. Sanjay admitted, grudgingly, that she was probably right.

Symmetra continues to maintain a relationship with Zenyatta to this day, and Zenyatta views her, affectionately, as one of his students.

Symmetra still seems to tow the company line with Vishkar. Her interactions with Ana, Ashe and others reflect that she will still parrot Vishkar’s tagline of improving an imperfect world. However, her interaction with Hanzo hints that she may be seeking a way out. She asks why he left his organization, and he replied that he hated the man they made him. When Symmetra asks how he knew he did the right thing, Hanzo says he didn’t. She also asks Sombra about Vishkar’s dealings with LumeriCo…but when Sombra jokes about her escaping her cage, Symmetra shuts down the conversation.

Symmetra despises chaos. She shows disgust in her interactions with Junkrat and Junker Queen, and remarks how shocked she is Torbjorn’s inventions actually function. Likewise, she shows admiration for snowflakes with Mei. Symmetra has close friendships with Niran, who teases her about his chaotic Academy habits, and Zenyatta, who encourages her growth.

Symmetra is a person still discovering herself. She was severed from her family, and largely from her culture, by a predatory corporation. While Vishkar has made her into a successful scientist and expanded her education beyond her wildest dreams…they also robbed her of much of her humanity. She is clawing it back through her friendships with Zenyatta and Lifeweaver, and slowly growing into a person separate from the corporate drone Vishkar wants her to be.

Symmetra is a soul aching for empathy and beauty, in a world where so much of it has been sanitized in the name of efficiency. She is a reminder to us all that imperfections aren’t to be eliminated…and technical advances may come at the cost of the artist if we are not careful.

(Taken from facebook group "Deadlock gang: women of Overwatch from a member there)

[alezangona]

Second Chances (Salaar AU)

Part 1: A Surprise Encounter

Summary: Amidst a crazy wedding season, the Mannar siblings face chance encounters that change the trajectory of their lives.

“Mam,” Bilal’s exasperated tone snaps Radha Rama out of her thoughts and she places the folder she’s holding on the desk, devoting her attention to him. 

“What’s the matter, Bilal? Did the Arodha’s want to make another change to their destination wedding because I swear to god, I’ve told them in a million different ways that I cannot get those parrots flown into the island this late in the game without proper permits.”

“No, they’re actually being reasonable this time– if you can believe it.” He lets out a huff of air as he plops down in the chair across from her. “They’ve just decided that veganism is the new trend they want to hop on. Which means they want to drag their family and friends in on it too.”

“No! No, no, no.” Radha Rama squeezes the bridge of her nose, bangles clanging as they move down her arm. “Don’t tell me… the wedding is in three days Bilal!”

“I don’t think they seem to realize that, but anyway, they want new caterers. Baachi was able to reach out to some of his contacts and draw up a contract with one of the best vegan restaurants on the island.” She lets out a small sigh and sinks back into her seat.

“If that situation is handled, then what’s the issue?”

“I was supposed to meet with the Krishnakanths today to discuss their daughter’s wedding, but I just got a call that my son is sick. I need to pick him up from school and take him to the doctor.”

“Oh.” Radha Rama turns to her computer, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she observes the screen. “That’s okay Bilal, you handle that. I’ll just send… ah, yes! Varadha is free around then. He can handle it.” 

“Thank you, mam! I’m so sorry, I know how important their contract is, especially with how much power Krishnakanth holds. I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t–”

“Bilal,” Radha Rama looks up at him, dark eyes filled with understanding. “I know. I know you wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t urgent. Don’t apologize, not to me, okay? Just make sure your son is okay and we’ll handle your projects till then.” 

“You’re the best, boss.” Bilal stands, a relieved smile tugging at his lips.

“Don’t I know it.” She winks, face alight with mischief as she sends him out on his way.

~*~

Varadha’s teeth grit together when he checks his watch, a curse leaving his lips. If there was anything he was proud of, it was his ability to be punctual regardless of any hurdles in his way. He didn't know what his sister was thinking, giving him a new assignment an hour before the meeting time, when she knew he had to make his way through Khansar traffic. 

Varadha was nothing if not determined though. So his eyes scan the route on the GPS, mind rapidly putting together the different pieces of the puzzle till a picture flashes in his mind– the exit he could take, followed by the route that could get him to the meeting location as soon as possible. Ten minutes later, he’s sitting at the cafe, his laptop and documents arranged neatly on the table in front of him. 

Two minutes later, his foot taps a staccato against the brick patio, still waiting for the family to arrive. After five more minutes of sitting around hoping to catch sight of these rich bastards who don’t seem to give a fuck about other people’s time, Varadha decides it’s best to kill time by being as productive as he possibly can. He pulls out the file Radha Rama handed to him as he was running out the door and flips it open to the page that describes the bride.

Aadhya Krishnakanth. Born and brought up in the States. A doctor initially based out of New York before deciding to move to India. Opened a free clinic for patients in marginalized regions of the country. Lives in Hyderabad with her mother–

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!” There’s a sudden pink blur that races through the cafe before crashing down in the seat across from him. “I’m so sorry! I always try so hard not to be late, but you have to understand it’s so difficult with my schedule. There was a surgery today that ended up getting more complicated than we expected and oh god! I’m so sorry!”

“Hey, no it’s okay!” The sudden noise after an excruciating phase of silence is enough to give him whiplash, but seeing how frazzled the poor girl is softens him up like butter. “We’ve all been there. I was late too, to be honest. Stuck in traffic actually but that’s nothing compared to saving lives now that I think about it.” She smiles at him, relieved and thankful, sinking into her seat. 

“Aadhya,” she holds out a hand, grinning brightly in the way Americans tend to do. “So nice to meet you…?”

“Varadha. Is anyone else going to be joining us today?”

“Yeah! My parents weren’t able to make it, but my fiancé and f–”

“Ey, Tingari (crazy girl). Wait for me next time, will you?” A towering figure appears behind Aadhya, his arms wrapping around to pull her into a hug that is powerful enough to lift her off her chair for half a second. 

“Rey! Let me down!” She swats at him playfully, bringing out a deep and melodic laugh from the man. He does as she requests and takes a seat next to her, an arm draped casually over the back of her chair.

“Hi sir! I’m De-” The sound dies on his lips when he makes out who exactly it is sitting in front of him. “Varadha?”

“Deva?”

“You two know each other?” Aadhya looks between the two of them, confused as to why they look like they’ve seen a ghost. They don’t say anything for a second, too stunned to speak. She might’ve left it well alone if it wasn’t for the fact that she was a nosey little fucker who wanted all the details. So she digs her fingers into the side of Deva’s waist, smirking when he jumps and his attention diverts to her.

“Yeah, we were roommates in college.” Deva mumbles, rubbing his hand over his side and glaring at Aadhya. Something about that answer doesn’t seem to be what Varadha expects because his face darkens for a moment, lips pursing when he takes a second to recompose himself.

“Yeah, roommates. Anyway, today’s meeting isn’t about that. Your father wanted to hire us because of our commitment to excellence in every event that we plan. However, as a company, we prioritize creating unique experiences that are a reflection of our clients and their journey. So I usually like to start by getting an idea of what you’re looking for going forward. It seems that according to the file, you’re hoping for a big wedding?” Deva immediately scoffs at that.

“Deva–” Aadhya starts, a slight blush coating her cheeks.

“What? It’s true.” Deva looks at Varadha then. “She’d prefer a smaller wedding. As small as we can get considering her dad is stuffing the list to the brim with his entire network.”

Varadha can’t find it in him to say anything, so he looks down at the file, making note of the fact. He doesn’t realize how hard he’s digging the pen into the paper though, till the free flowing movement stops and he realizes the pen is stuck in a tiny hole. Swallowing, he pulls it out and looks back up at the couple.

“Well considering we got most of our information from your father, I’m assuming more things in this file are wrong than right?” Varadha hands over the file to the other side of the table. Deva reaches over to grab it, placing it between him and Aadhya as they lean over to read it together. Varadha’s attention catches on how their expressions almost move in synch, going from light frowns to wide-eyed looks of incredulity. “So?”

“Well, they’re not entirely wrong…” Aadhya shrugs at the piece of paper, her hunched posture a direct contradiction to her tone. 

“Pichi Pilla (crazy girl),” Deva crosses his arms over his chest and looks directly at Varadha, who can feel the world closing in on him, slowly but surely. “Look, half of this is bull. She wants a smaller wedding, something in India and not a destination abroad. She hates beaches, would probably rather burn herself alive than be caught dead dragging a trail of sand behind her. She loves food, so none of those small plates of Hors D’oeuvres that leave you feeling more hungry after taking a nibble than you were before that. Probably a big giant buffet where people can go back for fourths, that’d be ideal right?”

At that, Aadhya places her hand gently on his arm in an effort to stop him perhaps. Still, she gazes up at Deva with so much warmth, her eyes glassing over just slightly enough to let Varadha know that what Deva said mattered to her. Why he said it, mattered to her. He has to look away from the image in front of him, simply because he knows what it’s like. 

Varadha knows what it’s like to be in Aadhya’s place because that’s where he was for the longest time. If anyone knows what it’s like to be on the receiving end of Deva’s love and affection, it’s him. It’s no surprise that the memories of that man are etched into every fiber of his being, even after all these years.

The coal-dark eyes that would come to life when Varadha would enter a room. The warm body that would press into his from behind during movie nights on that dingy-ass college couch. The smell of burning food left abandoned on the stove as wine coated lips explored each other against thin walls.

The man who dropped to his knees, begging Varadha to forgive him when–

“I’ll give you two a moment.” Varadha says, pushing out of his chair and walking himself out the door to the cafe. The second he gets to the parking lot, he pulls out the remaining half of a cigarette he bummed from a friend the night before at a party. Smoking wasn’t something he necessarily enjoyed doing. It was an occasional habit he’d picked up after college. 

Whenever Deva would feel anxious about something, he’d make his way onto their roof, taking a drag beneath the night sky. Every once in a while, Varadha would join him. More often when he knew times were tough. They’d lie there together in silence for a moment before Deva would point to different constellations and tell him the myths he heard as a child. Deva wasn’t much of a talker with other people, but when he loved people enough to let them into his small circle, conversation was something that dripped from his lips like sweet honey. Once he’d calm down, he’d turn towards Varadha, a look of pure gratitude in his eyes as his chapped lips would brush against his own. The taste of nicotine in those moments used to be so irresistible, because it became the taste of Deva.

That was all it was, to be honest. It wasn’t often that Varadha found himself in distress, but in those rare moments of weakness, the warmth of the cigarette against his lips would remind him of Deva. For some time, it would be as if they were still together, the mistakes of the past erased. 

Yet, when the cigarette touches his lips today, it leaves behind a bitter taste. He scoffs as he lets out a puff, scraping his shoes against the ground. Why wouldn’t it? The man he’s in love with, even after all these years, is about to get married to a beautiful, kind, caring woman. His stomach churns uneasily and he gives up, too tired to try and process the day beyond the fact that the man he loves isn’t his anymore. Hasn’t been for a while now.

“Let me have a drag?” Varadha freezes, finger that was about to drop the cigarette tightening around it and passing it along to Deva’s waiting hand without further thought. “Thanks, ra.”

“Should you be smoking at this age? It kills you know?” Deva leans against the car, lips quirking up and he doesn’t bother to hide his amusement at Varadha’s hypocrisy. “I smoke occasionally, I don’t count. You probably do it on a daily basis.” 

“Careful, Varadha. You don’t want me thinking you actually care do you?”

“Of course I care!” Varadha pauses, looking to his feet. “You’ve got a nice girl in there. Least you can do is make it to your wedding alive.” Deva’s eyes dig into Varadha’s profile and he can feel his skin rising uncomfortably. “What’s with all the staring?”

“I haven’t seen you in years, B- Varadha. I’m soaking up as much as I can before you go.” He flicks the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out before speaking again. “As for the girl, we’re not together. She’s just a friend.”

Varadha should be embarrassed by the immediate relief he feels at the statement. The churning pit in his stomach disappears in seconds as he takes a moment to really observe the man standing across from him. If it was possible, he was more handsome now than all those years ago. His lanky frame that used to be hidden behind drowning fabrics has now filled out deliciously, the protruding muscles emphasized by the various textured clothing that wrap snugly around him. His wild mane that would stick out in every direction, frizzing out during the humid months, is now styled to perfection with every curl staying in place. His once clean shaven face is now painted with a dark beard that makes him look less like the boy next door and more like a rugged stranger that Varadha wouldn’t mind running into during a night out. The tattoo wrapping around Deva’s arm further emphasizes that particular fantasy of his. 

Was it pathetic how in love with him he still was? If Radha Rama was here with him, she wouldn’t hesitate to say yes. 

“What about her fiancé?” 

“He’s running late. His flight’s coming in from L.A. today. I just wanted to hop along because I knew if she was alone she’d say yes to all the shit her dad had laid out for her.” Deva lights another cigarette he pulls out of his pocket, inhaling deeply, letting the smoke settle in his lungs before he lets out a puff of air that fades into the afternoon breeze.

“Is that why you’re so stressed?” Varadha leans against the car as well, a couple of inches away from Deva. The hairs on his body stay on edge, aware of the electrical pulse that beats between them. He tries not to let that distract him. 

“Please, I can handle Krishnakanth.” Deva passes the cigarette back to Varadha, who forces himself not to think about the fact that Deva’s lips were wrapped against the paper just seconds ago. He fails miserably. “He doesn’t mean any harm really. He’s a good man who just wants to see his daughter taken care of and she hasn’t met anyone she’s fallen for yet. So, why not say yes to marriage to make her family happy?” 

“What about her? Will she be happy?” The look Deva gives him is enough for Varadha to understand and he keeps quiet, not knowing what else to say. 

“Meeting you today was a surprise.” Deva offers and Varadha takes greedily. 

“For me as well.” He admits, fingers coming up to play with his watch. 

“You look good Varadha. You look happy.” 

“Well… that’s open to interpretation.”

“You’re not happy?” Deva crushes the cigarette against the ground, rigidity taking over his body once more. 

“I’m doing well, Deva. That should be enough right?” 

“Not for me. It shouldn’t be for you either. What’s wrong Varadha? What’s missing?” Deva steps closer to him, the scent of his cologne surrounding Varadha in an intoxicating cloud. Maybe that’s what allows for him to let his guard down.

“You,” the word passes uninterrupted from his lips. “You’re missing from my life and I’ve wanted you back every day since–”

Deva takes a step back, snapping Varadha out of his daze. The broken expression on his face makes Varadha feel like an absolute asshole.

“Shit, Deva. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–”

“I left that day because you asked me to. Not because I wanted to.” Varadha sucks in a sharp breath at the admission, mouth falling shut. 

“I know. I shouldn’t have said anything, especially after all this time. Just because I haven’t moved on doesn’t mean the same applies to you.” Varadha looks away, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t owe me anything, Deva. Not after everything, but I need you to know that I regret what I did back then. Not a day goes by where I don’t wish that it played out differently because then maybe…” He swallows, stopping the words in his throat. The images play in his mind though, of an intimate wedding, a beautiful house on the edge of the river, a small child’s laugh echoing through the property. 

“Yeah, well… I wish it played out differently too.” Deva takes in a deep breath, his gaze resting on the horizon. “I haven’t gotten over you either.”

“Oh?”

“So, where does that leave us? Are we just going to get that off our chests and never see each other again? Because I’m getting old, Varadha. I don’t think I have energy to wait anymore.” Deva hangs his head, hands tucked into his pockets.

Varadha can’t help but to think of how his life passed by in a blink of an eye over the past two decades. A lifetime of memories that felt as if they hadn't been experienced, not in the way they were meant to. All the moments of joy and pride, sadness and pain, nothing more than fleeting emotions that refused to ground themselves into the core of his very being. When he’d lie in bed at night, desperately trying to find a reason for this ache, Deva’s name would echo through his mind and he’d wonder how he could’ve ever been blind to it before. 

Why did he ever let that man go?

“I won’t make you wait, not this time.” Varadha’s hand intertwines with Deva’s, touch as gentle as a feather brushing against glass. “Let’s start over?”

~*~

6 Months Later

Varadha makes deliberate cuts into the meat in front of him, trying hard to clear out any remaining bones so the previous week’s episode doesn’t unfold a second time. Sure he and his sister had their fair share of fights, but nothing drastic enough where we wanted to murder her through way of choking on a bone. 

“Bujji?” The call comes simultaneously with the thud of the front door closing. 

“In the kitchen.” Varadha replies, refusing to break his concentration. 

“Here’s the sauce you asked for. They didn’t have the brand you usually get, but this seemed like it’d be good too.” Deva sets the glass container next to Varadha, leaning in to place a quick peck against his cheek. Varadha hears a sound of disgust from behind him and he has to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“You make a fuss now, but the second I put down the food, you’re the first to gobble it up.” 

“You see how gross uncooked meat is right? Your chopping skills don't help the image either.” 

“Rey–”Varadha turns, holding the knife threateningly towards Deva.

“Calm down, Kick Buttowski. Get back to work and look out for any bones. I’m not about to lose my favorite Mannar sibling to something smaller than a lima bean again.”

“Don’t let Baachi hear you say that. It’ll break his heart.”

“I’m sure it will. After all, we’re attached at the hip, the two of us.” Deva chuckles as he opens up a bottle of wine for them. “I don’t think there’s anything I can do to impress that kid. He’ll just hate me for the rest of his life.”

“He doesn’t hate you!” Varadha defends instantly, putting down his knife now that he was finished with his thorough inspection. 

“The bruise from when he chucked a volleyball at my head last week begs to differ.” Varadha washes his hands meticulously before heading over to Deva and pulling him down to place a lingering kiss on his left temple, where the remnants of a pretty terrible bruise were finally starting to fade. 

“You have a point, but he does it out of love. I swear.” Deva shakes his head at the comment before handing Varadha a glass of wine.

“No, me putting up with his murderous tendencies is what’s done out of love.” Deva whips out his phone and taps against the screen. A soft Hindi melody plays from the speakers and Varadha smiles at his boyfriend at the gesture. “But I can put up with that till death as long as you keep kissing all the wounds better.”

“God, you’re such a sap.” Varadha complains, but there’s no malice behind it. Just the light hearted tone that comes from being in love with an unbelievably sweet idiot. So he grabs at Deva’s shirt and tugs him in closer for a deep kiss. A small moan escapes his throat when he tastes his favorite wine lingering on Deva’s lips. The various notes of fruit, spices, and coco dust intermingle seamlessly into the unique flavor that belongs to Deva, and Varadha can’t possibly get enough. His fingers tangle into the taller man’s hair, pushing off the ground to wrap his legs around Deva’s waist. A grunt of surprise leaves Deva’s lips, but he’s quick to catch on to Varadha and move towards the counter. Placing Varadha down gives him more leeway than before, so he digs his ankles into the small of Deva’s back, pulling him closer to gain more access to his mouth. 

“Rey,” Deva groans as he forces himself to pull away. “God stop teasing me. We have guests coming over soon.”

“They can wait.” Varadha’s teeth catch against the bottom of his earlobe, nipping playfully. “They’ll understand that a chef deserves his kiss.” 

“I don’t know that chef is the right word when all that’s sitting out right now is a lump of meat.”

“Whyyyyy!” Varadha whines as he pulls away from his hot boyfriend. “Why do you do this to me? What’s the point of having a sexy boyfriend if I can’t make out with him whenever I want.” 

“You can still ogle me.” Deva winks at him. “Now, stop pouting and get to cooking. We have the rest of the night once they leave.”

“It would take a S.W.A.T. team to evacuate them out of this apartment post dinner. The second Aadhya whips out the cards, everyone’s going to settle in for a round of poker and before we know it, she’ll have us drowning in debt.”

“Drowning you in debt. The rest of us actually win every once in a while.” Deva comments, making his way into Varadha’s room to change. 

Varadha spends the next hour quickly shuffling through the kitchen and preparing the feast, while Deva tidies up around the apartment and sets up the dining table. They idly exchange stories from their day, where Deva speaks of his cute Kindergarteners who gifted him a paper crown that was more glue than paper at this point, while Varadha complains about how billionaires shouldn’t be allowed to get married because it is quite frankly impossible (potentially unethical) to bring in a whole herd of elephants just so the celebrity guests could make a grad entrance to the reception. Which would pale in comparison when the newlyweds would enter on the backs of lions. That idea was vetoed pretty quickly by him and his sister, thank god. 

“Ey, Macha!” Aadhya bustles in just as they finish getting ready, a tray of brownies in hand. “This is about to be the best dessert of your lives! Crumb coffee cake brownies, made by yours truly.” 

“There were supposed to be two trays, but I downed one on the way here!” Radha Rama shouts from near the entryway. A wide smile settles on Aadhya’s face.

“Seal of approval from the best Mannar sibling!” Aadhya declares happily as she grabs herself a hard cider from their fridge. 

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Varadha frowns in his sister’s direction. “What’s so special about you besides an undiagnosed sugar addiction?” 

“I’m the one who’s kept this circus afloat for years, kid. Show some respect!” Radha Rama smirks as she pushes past her brother, making her way over to Aadhya and wrapping an arm around her waist. 

“Don’t take it too seriously, Bujji.” Deva laughs leaning against the counter. “Our Tingari Pilla is just too in love with her girlfriend to see things objectively.” 

“It’s not just her.” Baachi comes stomping into the apartment, carrying a heaving box of decorations that he plops unceremoniously to the ground. “Considering they’ve been using me as a pack mule for this wedding, the least you can do is declare me the best Mannar sibling instead of tucking tail and following my brother around like a lost puppy.”

In the blink of an eye, the siblings start bickering, bringing up every moment from the past in an effort to one up each other. Deva and Aadhya choose to sit back silently, watching the event play out in front of them. 

“We’ll get to dinner soon, right?” Aadhya asks, anxiously gazing at the clock.

“Yeah… as soon as your girlfriend stops trying to rip my boyfriend to shreds with that pillow?” Deva’s brow furrows as he tries to determine when exactly the physical fight broke out.

“I’m going to be honest Deva. I think tonight’s the night we confess to them.”

“Confess what?”

“You know? That there’s no superior Mannar sibling because all of them are certifiably insane?” 

“And that we’re the angels for putting up with them?”

“Mhm. Exactly!” Aadhya places down her cider and makes her way into the sibling’s circle to drag Radha Rama out by the arm. “Food first, fighting later. I refuse to eat cold lasagna again, Babe.”

They spend the rest of the night eating, drinking, and playing poker. Varadha loses every round and at some point, he gives up and leans against Deva’s side instead, inadvertently becoming a part of his team. It’s something he realizes he should do more often because he likes the feeling of winning every once in a while, even if it was his boyfriend doing most of the work. 

By the time everyone leaves, Varadha can barely keep his eyes open. He leans his forehead against the door, eyes closed as he allows the silence to envelop him.

“Rey, come to bed.” Deva places a hand on his shoulder to peel him off the door.

“The door is so soft though.”  Varadha slurs through wine drunk lips. 

“The bamboo pillows you brought are softer, I promise. Come on now.” 

Soon, the two of them are tangled up under Varadha’s sheets, holding each other close as they let the day finally slow down around them.

“This is getting annoying.” Varadha murmurs into Deva’s chest.

“What, family dinners? I love you Bujji, but you have to stop picking fights with your sister. We could get to eating faster for one thing.” 

“No!” Varadha shoves Deva away before pulling him back when he realizes how cold it is. “No, you asshole. I meant having to work around our schedules to see each other recently.”

“Oh, that.” Deva hums and settles closer to Varadha. “I’ve been trying to find apartments closer to this side of the city. I think that could fix the scheduling conflict a little.” 

“Rent in Pathran is abhorrent, Bangarm.” 

“So? What’s your solution?”

“Move in with me?”

“Okay, yeah, sure.” Deva places a peck on Varadha’s head, chuckling a little.

“I’m being serious. Move in with me.” Varadha insists.

“I know, but let’s talk about this tomorrow when you’re less tipsy.” 

Varadha groans, asking the gods silently why they fated him to fall in love with an oblivious, asshole of a man. He reaches over to switch on the lights and because he was just a little annoyed with Deva, he revels when the man shields his eyes from the sudden onslaught. 

“Now you can look at me and see how serious I am when I ask this. Move in with me, Deva.” Varadha intertwines their hands together when their gazes meet. “It’s as simple as this: I’m happiest when I’m with you and I hate not being around you. I love it when you walk into the apartment, I love it when you help me cook, I love it when you help me clean. I love it when you curl up with me to watch a movie, I love it when you read next to me before bed, I love it when I see your teaching plans scattered across my desk. I even love it when you’re grading your students’ art projects and all the glitter falls onto the carpet. Nothing I do gets rid of it and I keep finding it everywhere, even in my coffee! I just love you so can we go back to being roommates? Please?” 

The way Deva flips him over onto his back and devours him is answer enough.

[sometimesbrave]

warnings: slapping

June 1985

***

"You'll be the saddest part of me

A part of me that'll never be mine.

It's obvious. Tonight is gonna be the lonliest"

- The Lonliest by Måneskin

***

Baba came up with the plan: a series of dropoffs, which will make tracking Deva and Amma more difficult. The fifth driver said that he was supposed to hand them over to the next driver in Hyderabad. When he went away to get them some food in the morning and returned, Deva and Amma were gone. After Deva and Amma's escape from Khansaar, Raja Mannar had his goons round up everyone involved in the matter.

All the seven drivers and Baba were beaten brutally and imprisoned. The fifth driver was tortured the most. He pleaded for his life but he never changed his answer.

Varadha remembers that he was slapped by his father across his face so hard that he fell to the ground. He remembers his father spat on the floor and walked away. After that, the rest of that day was blurry.

The search for Deva and Amma continued.

Now, Varadha's only priority was to get Baba and the drivers out of prison. He requested to meet his father everyday to no avail. He met every Dhora who gave him a chance. Most of them only agreed to meet him to reiterate his pathetic position and feel superior. Those who were sympathetic wanted him to let go of this issue, clean his hands of it and let others bear the burden of his decisions. They wanted him to understand his luck that he is not dead or rotting in prison because his father spared him.

Varadha did not stop. He and Baachi needed Baba. The only solace Varadha had during this year was his brother. Baachi was only 5 years old and he missed Baba very much. Varadha played with his brother and dodged every question the kid had about Baba, their mother or their father. He lied that Aai is in heaven because she turned into an angel on his birthday. He lied that their father doesn't visit them anymore because he is an astronaut on the moon. He lied that Baba will come home soon after defeating all the evil monsters in the forest. Because Baachi was only a child, he didn't need the truth. He only needed a story. Sometimes, Varadha only needed a story to get through the day.

Months passed. Every second ticking at the slowest pace.

Varadha celebrated New Year 1986 in the balcony of their house with his brother sitting in his lap. Baachi was giggling and clapping his chubby fists when he saw the fireworks light up in the sky. Varadha hugged him tightly and desperately wished for Aai, Baba, Amma and Deva to appear before him. He just wanted to celebrate the New Year with his family.

*****

tags: @deadloverscity @ghostdriftexistence @sambaridli, @rambheem-is-real @sinistergooseberries @vardhamannartitties, @moonnpaww @literariyumi @sana2410 @varadevaficrecs

[warnermeadowsgirl]

Aria's Orange Adventure: Riding with Nanna in the Lamborghini Aventador

Dad!Prabhas × Mom!Fem!OC

Prabhas had always been passionate about cars, and his latest acquisition, a stunning Lamborghini Aventador Roadster in a striking orange color, was no exception. As he proudly showed off his new car to his family, his four-year-old daughter Aria's eyes widened in awe at the sight of the sleek sports car.

"Nanna, it's so cool!" Aria exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement as she ran her small hands over the smooth surface of the car.

Prabhas grinned, scooping Aria up into his arms. "Do you like it, bangaru?" he asked, his heart swelling with pride at her enthusiasm.

Aria nodded eagerly, her curly hair bouncing as she nodded. "Yes, Nanna! It's the best car ever!" she replied, her eyes shining with admiration.

Shreya chuckled, joining her husband and daughter by the car. "It's definitely a head-turner," she agreed, smiling at Prabhas.

Prabhas nodded, his grin widening. "How about we go for a ride, Aria?" he suggested.

Aria's face lit up with excitement at the idea. "Yes, please, Nanna! Can we?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Prabhas glanced at Shreya, who nodded in agreement. "Alright, let's go for a ride," he replied, gently lowering Aria onto the passenger seat of the Lamborghini.

Aria squealed with delight as she settled into the luxurious leather seat, her hands running over the dashboard with wonder. "It's so fancy, Nanna!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with excitement.

Prabhas chuckled, buckling Aria into her seatbelt before sliding into the driver's seat. "Hold on tight, bangaru. We're going for a ride," he said, revving the engine of the Lamborghini.

Shreya stood back, watching with a smile as her husband and daughter prepared to embark on their adventure. "Be careful, you two," she called out, waving goodbye as they pulled out of the driveway.

As they hit the open road, Aria's laughter filled the air, her excitement contagious as they sped through the streets of Hyderabad. The wind whipped through her hair, her laughter mingling with the roar of the engine as they zoomed past other cars.

"Nanna, this is so much fun!" Aria exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with joy as they cruised along the highway.

Prabhas grinned, his heart swelling with happiness at the sight of his daughter's pure delight. "I'm glad you're having a good time, bangaru," he replied, glancing over at her with a fond smile.

As they drove, Prabhas pointed out some of the city's landmarks to Aria, explaining their significance and sharing stories from his own childhood. Aria listened intently, her eyes wide with wonder as she took in the sights and sounds of the bustling city around them.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the skyline, Prabhas decided to take Aria to one of their favorite spots—a scenic overlook that offered breathtaking views of the city below.

As they arrived, Aria's eyes widened in amazement at the sight before her. "Wow, Nanna, it's beautiful!" she exclaimed, her small hand reaching out to grasp Prabhas' as they stepped out of the car.

Prabhas smiled, lifting Aria up in his arms as they walked to the edge of the overlook. Together, they stood in awe, taking in the panoramic vista spread out before them.

"It's moments like these that make life truly special, Aria," Prabhas said, his voice filled with emotion as he gazed out at the city below.

Aria nodded, her gaze fixed on the horizon. "I love you, Nanna," she whispered, her voice soft and sincere.

Prabhas hugged Aria tightly, his heart overflowing with love for his precious daughter. "I love you too, bangaru," he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

As they watched the sun sink below the horizon, bathing the city in a warm golden light, Prabhas knew that this day would be one they would cherish forever—a day filled with love, laughter, and precious memories shared between a father and his adoring daughter, Aria.

____________________________________________________________________________

@mayakimayahai @mahi-wayy @ranisingsnew @ulaganayagi @maraudersbitchesassemble @ek-ladki-bheegi-bhagi-si @vijayasena @gloriouspurpose01

Enjoy;) Let me know if you wanna be tagged..........

[mrhaitch]

Hello Mr.Haitch!!

I hope you and your family are doing well ^^

So my questions for you are—

1) Would you consider yourself a picky eater?

2) Thoughts on the debate around pineapples on pizza. Do you like/dislike Hawaiian pizza? Also mint chocolate ice-cream yay or nay?

3) If you could eat only one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?

4) Can you give me a lesser known food related fun fact?

5) Do you like Indian food? (Also I’ll add a little rant)— As an Indian, it peeves me a bit, whenever people reduce Indian food to only Naan, Tandoori chicken, Biryani, and Butter chicken.

India has such a vast variety of food. With each state having its own cuisine. The food which the western world is more familiar with, hails from different states. Like butter chicken is from Delhi, tandoori is from Punjab and Biryani (originally from Iran, brought to India by the Mughals) is typically from Hyderabad.

Also, India has a vast variety of vegetarian food. As far as I know, India is the only country with a vegetarian menu for McDonald’s

Okay. My rant here is done!

I hope you have a great rest of the day!

And thank you in advance for answering my silly questions ^^

1. Nope, I'm a fairly opportunistic eater when not at home. Otherwise I've got a fairly loose regimen that I follow.

2. I'm fairly neutral - I'll eat it if it's there but I won't seek it out. Mint chocolate has never been to my taste but I wouldn't deprive someone else of it.

3. This changes often, but probably salted pistachios.

4. Button mushrooms are incredibly toxic, but only at high concentrations. Unless you eat your bodyweight in mushrooms you're absolutely fine.

5. I'm hesitant to answer, in light of your comments, but not because I disagree. It's a colonial hangover where cuisines from other cultures are imported, bastardised, and then the bastardised version becomes the standard. I love what we call Indian food in the UK: lamb Rogan Josh with saag aloo is my standard. We also cook it a little, particularly keema muttar. I still use the same Madhur Jeffrey recipe my mum used, but even that's likely to have been altered for western palates.

[justbrewitcoffeeshop]

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A Perfect Spot for Couples Looking for the best coffee in Sainikpuri, Hyderabad for couples? JustBrewIt offers a cozy and inviting ambiance that’s perfect for a romantic coffee date. Enjoy intimate conversations over a cup of expertly brewed coffee or explore their menu filled with delicious offerings. With its warm lighting, soft music, and relaxed vibes, it’s no wonder couples often choose JustBrewIt as their go-to café for quality time together.

The Ultimate Destination for Coffee Enthusiasts Known as one of the best cafes in Sainikpuri, JustBrewIt takes pride in offering a carefully curated menu that caters to all tastes. From rich espressos to creamy cappuccinos, the top coffee in Sainikpuri, Hyderabad menu has something for every coffee lover. Not to mention, their budget-friendly pricing makes it one of the most accessible coffee shops near Sainikpuri, Secunderabad, perfect for students, professionals, and families alike.

A Café for Every Occasion Whether you’re celebrating a milestone or hosting a small gathering, JustBrewIt is among the top cafes in Sainikpuri for birthday celebrations. Their spacious interiors and friendly staff ensure a memorable experience for you and your guests. With delicious food and refreshing beverages, it’s the perfect spot to create lasting memories. If you’re on the hunt for new cafes in Sainikpuri, JustBrewIt is a must-visit for its unique blend of great food, exceptional service, and a welcoming atmosphere.

Reviews That Speak Volumes The glowing reviews of top coffee in Sainikpuri, Hyderabad are a testament to the quality and care that JustBrewIt puts into every cup. Regulars praise the café’s consistent flavors, innovative dishes, and exceptional customer service. With a commitment to delivering the finest experience, JustBrewIt has cemented its place as one of the best budget-friendly cafes in Sainikpuri.

So, whether you’re a coffee aficionado, a foodie exploring new spots, or someone looking for the perfect place to celebrate, JustBrewIt in Sainikpuri, Hyderabad, is your ultimate destination. Visit today and discover why it’s the talk of the town!

[hydhot99]

Any cuckold couple or single women for real meet in Hyderabad dm me….

Any couple looking for couple swapping parties dm me personally

Telegram:-ram_reddy9999

[kshetrafarmresorts]

"Escape the stress of corporate life and find peace and relaxation at our farm resort. Surrounded by nature and far from the hustle and bustle of the city, it's the perfect place to recharge and unwind. "

[ririsasy]

"The whole concept of having a rivalry brought us together," said Ram Charan, adding, "The only path we could take was friendship because we were bored of news of rivalry for more than three decades." The actors reveled that the ice-breaking session happened during a practice session for a celebrity cricket match several years ago in Hyderabad.

Speaking of his current equation with Ram Charan, Jr NTR said, "It's simple physics." He explained: "Opposite poles attract. Charan gets attracted to what he doesn't have in him. And I get attracted to what I don't attain in myself, so we look up to each other. It's a support system. We complement each other, and we can share a few secrets that will never get out."

Me, reading this part in an article about Charan and Jr NTR I am cackling because honestly what they say about each other sound like someone who say abour their romantic partner especially in Tarak’s part lmao ..who says about friendship that they get attracted to the other person of the quality they didn’t have in themselves? Usually we bond over friendship because of common interests 🤣🤣

Also Charan is dramatic as hell about the reason they decided to be best friend, he is just so tired of the media always writing about their family rivalry and he’s like “I am going to end this once and for all and befriending Jr NTR so hard they would have no choice but to write about how deep is our love for each other” 😂 seriously the story of how they become bestfriend sound a lot like movie plot, they really be living that fairytale life huh where you have arch nemesis but then some how rivalry turned into long lasting friendship.

[wealth-munshi]

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