#ghazal singing

[thatstolenpayal]

aaj jaane ki zid na karo

the start is a bit weird and loud, but yeah do listen ig :)

[neelamchauhanmusicalgroup]

Ghazal Singer For Event | Ghazal Singer For Birthday Party In Delhi | De...

[his-heart-hymns]

Today my mom was singing Mirza Ghalib's most famous ghazal, "yeh na thi humari qismat" (This was not our destiny). I said her "Let me record " and she replied "I won't let you record. I know you'll post it on your Tumblr and your friends will laugh at my voice." 😆After a lot of persuasion she finally agreed. Please ignore my strange voice, I have cold.😅

ye na thi humaari qismat ke wisaal-e-yaar hota agar aur jeete rehte yahi intezaar hota.

It was not my destiny that there would be a union with my beloved. If I had lived further on, there would have been this same waiting.

ye kaha ki dosti hai ke bane hain dost naaseh koi chaarasaaz  hota, koi ghamgusaar hota

What kind of friendship is this, where the friends have now become advisors. If only there were some healer, if only there was some sympathizer.

[punkrockscully]

Wet Hot American Bummer

and he’s looking at your mouth with those hazel heat-seekers round and shiny as a promise in your pocket. Singing to him about your dreams, pressure like flashbulbs behind your eyes and a heart going wild as an encore, he makes you animal-sly, viciously slutty choke-ring-etceteras and once he put his arm around your throat and your eyes rolled back in your head.

Now, you want to strip-search his canines. An elastic empress lives inside you— divine feminine memory-parts down to your delicate ankles—warning: I want to be taken apart; I always get what I want. Architecturally, he’s only slightly taller but you curl like a star around yourself guzzling ghazals you wrote for him until your mystica flays itself apart and you are finally born unto searchlights. He sees you, but now so does everyone else.

Little rituals, exhibition— two lit cigarettes between his fingers is a kiss, his mouth on the filter of both and you think you can still feel his lips there.

You were talking about your dreams, red-hot lovemaking in a magazine making him spit, delightfully rabid as you are, asterisks marking secrets with no fine print. Wet hot American bummer—this is going to end, you will no longer get what you want, and a quiet tidying will make everyone forget. But not you, not him, with his tiny inhalation at the sight of your cocked hip, eyes wavebreaking over your body. God-knows-whose-soul is in whose hands now.

[stxrrynxghts]

Music tastes

Arjun

Loves ghazals

Is also trained in how to play veena

Has a thing for sad songs

Nakul

The biggest drama queen around

Has the weirdest playlist

"Alexa, play Tip Tip Barsa Pani"

Krishna

Playlist, what playlist?

Why need songs when you have him

Bursts into random songs at random times

Accepts requests for songs

Balaram

Bathroom singer

Is depriving the world of his immense talent

Was caught singing Ami Je Tomar all alone once

Draupadi

Loves songs from old bollywood films

Likes Michael Jackson A LOT *jealous Bhima noises*

Acts like she is listening to songs, even if she isn't

Subhadra

Has THE Supreme musical taste

Spends hours arranging her playlists

Refuses to buy spotify premium at any costs

Duryodhan

Is the biggest romance smip, won't tell others

"Music? I hate music!" *nervous laugh*

Scared to show interest what if Bhima finds and shames him the way he shamed Arjun

Pradyumna

A genuine music lover

Always sings for his 8 mothers uwu

Was the one who found Balaram singing rumor is that he is still in trauma

Samba

Deletes others playlists for fun

Uses Bhima's spotify premium sneakily

Has recordings of Balaram saved for blackmail

Abhimanyu

Has a workout playlist

Hates Justin Bieber with a burning passion

Takes inspiration from Pradyumna for music because why not

Cries after listening to emotional songs

Uttara

Has classical songs saved (For practice ofc)

Has a mysterious music taste which remains unrevealed *annoying Abhimanyu noises in a corner*

Loves romantic songs but won't tell

[ouch-thats-harsh]

hii!! how r u?? i saw ur BNHA Class1-a w/ an indian reader and i honestly LOVED IT!! i was hoping to request for an indian reader with class 1-a but where they think she is really quiet and shy. HOWEVER, they witness her OTHER side when they see her vibing like crazy to bollywood songs??????????????? thnx<333 hv a good day/nightt!!! :)))

Pairings: none! Just friends and classmates :)

warnings: none! Gn! Reader. Indian reader, the reader is a bit shy

Author's note: Omg, hello!!! It's been a while since I disappeared for no reason😭 I'm sorry I didn't see your ask till now!! I'm so glad you loved the fic, it came from a need, honestly. Also I'm definitely more than rusty at this rn, so please forgive me if this sucks, I'm not the best at English, so i apologise for any mistakes.

A day doesn't pass without your headphones and music. The ghazals, the carnatic music, the hindustani tunes and Bollywood moods to wake your soul up. It was a need for you because more than anything, it was a piece of your home. Their foreign exchange student from India was a specimen worth knowing. Smart, brilliant, gorgeous but also quiet. You being quiet was something they expected, the language barrier guarenteed it! they dubbed your behaviour as that, but turns out thats just the way you were. It added to your charm.

One early Monday, after seemingly a shitty week, everyone had to get back on schedule. Exhausted students pulling themselves out of beds for another tiring week wasn't something new. UA makes it a death week, sometimes literally. Fatigue rolled in by the evening. After letting your friends know that you were ready to turn in for the night, you went straight to your dorm to rest. That was until you got a Google photos notif, from the last time you went to navratri.

Sero was just walking to his room, he was unbothered and chill. Then came your dorm room.

Before long your friends were outside your door

*Knock knock*

from the outside one could hear the faint sound of music and someone singing. They slowly opened the door, to see you, their adorable lovely quiet friend, eyes closed, with loud music, moving your hips to some Bollywood song? the song suited you, thought midoriya as soon as he saw you.

But then the shock came. You danced???

"DAMN GIRL!!" mina's loud outburst alerted you. You froze in place at the sudden yell, "how long have you guys been standing there???" You cried out, a bit embarrassed, maybe too embarrassed. You quickly turned the music off.

"Long enough to see you dance." Kirishima pointed out with a smirk. You felt your face warm. kaminari laughed at the sight of you flustered. Even though the situation was just the material to tease you with, they saw how much you enjoyed it, how carefree you were at that moment.

"What song was that? And you never told me you could move like *that*" mina asked pointing at you. "It's- uhm, it's called" you looked at your phone to get the title right, "tumhi ho bandu... And i- uh could always do that? Haha" the nervousness was evident, probably a result of you hiding this side of yours for so long.

This was a pleasant surprise to them. You looked more alive than they could remember.

Ochaco remembered the times you told her about baraat and gharba, times where you danced as if it was your last breathe of air. You told her about how your lungs would burn, sweat rolling off your head onto the earth. She saw what you meant today, even if it was fleeting. She wanted to join. She picked up your phone and played the next song. The beginning of nachde ne saare played. A memory for you, dancing with your bestfriend back home, unlocked.

You felt shy as the song began, but Ochaco and mina, ever the dancers, began moving, inviting you to do too. The guys were watching until pulled in by the duo, bakugou just stayed in his place, watching and nodding to the beat after a while. You could see some of them puzzled at the words but they swayed nonetheless. You remember this scene from somewhere. What was it? 2 years ago? Tenth farewell party... You remember something just like this, loud music, laughter, flaying arms and someone's horrible attempt at Bhangra. Flashes of old friends transitioned into your new ones, just as precious, loving and loved.

The hour was spent dancing, singing (gibberish more like), before long exhaustion hit all of you."We- *pants* should do this more often" a tired momo said. Satisfied with the whole thing. Some agreed immediately with her, smiling. You all talked a bit after that, letting yourselves relax. "You know, I'm glad i snooped enough to get to see this" sero said amused. "Yeah, i mean, for all we know you could've just hid those hips from us forever." Mina laughed. You chuckled a bit. "Thats called thumke" you told her, happy at the sight of all of them beside you. You went back to your quiet self.

"I do hope we'll get to see you like this more, it's nice to see you so fired up and not only on the battlefield" tooru said as she got up, the others added to her comment agreeing. After her the rest got up and decided to finally go to bed, they all hugged you or just showed their way of being affectionate, so did you.

Your room was silent now. You felt content, somehow at peace at the whole "incident" as they would come to call it from now on.You closed your eyes, the sounds from earlier echoed in your head, though loud, it put you to sleep.

End note: hey, uhm so this was smtg I cooked up after not writing for a long while, so please do leave suggestions on how to improve and yea, thanks for reading! :))

[naina-da-kya-kasoor]

Mims core? sure.

Jai Shree Ram🕉️

Main acc: @seedhe-pahad-se

Basic Intro i guess:

Mini/Mim

18

8w7 ENTP and Jester Archetype

Pahadi aur desi girl hone ka flex hai.

Hobbies?

I like a bit of everything. I love to read, write, sketch, sing.

I also play keyboard, guitar and harmonica tho i am still learning and i like to paint too (i suck at it).

I like anime too.

And i like cricket bhi bhut.

Working out and making my muscles sore is my coping mechanism.

Music?

Bollywood, Ghazals, Desi Rap, English, Jazz, Alt Rnb, you name it all i almost listen to everything.

And i am here just to post daily life moments.

Reblogging addiction vala acc: @idontwannaliveforevr

[farahabusafia]

This is my little sister, Ghazal. She is the youngest member of our family. She is our queen and the family’s pampered one. Before the war, she had a very beautiful childhood. She was in the sixth grade of primary school. She loved drawing and coloring a lot and loved singing. She had a small cat that she took good care of. Fahmi loved animals very much. She aspired to have a beautiful and young future now. With the war and the destruction of our home, and the destruction of her childhood and all her dreams, she lost her cat due to lack of food, and she also lost her school. Here is Ghazal now suffering with us on this journey of displacement and trying to help us survive. Help us for Ghazal to regain her childhood and her life again. Donate here.

[rrcraft-and-lore]

Tawaif - a highly skilled courtesan (skilled in: music, dance, poetry, and singing) who catered to nobility in South Asia. Similar in respects to Geisha in many ways, including that sex was NOT obligatory. It occurred, but the primary function was entertainment.

Most commonly romantic poetry like Ghazals -a form of Arabic poetry that made its way over to South Asia: odes of long lost lovers, tragedy, separation, stuff to pull at your heart strings. And, shairi, another Arab/Persian kind of poetry that is built on monorhymed quatrains or four sixteen syllable lines (keeping to the same rhyme scheme) with a caesura used between lines 8//9 to break up the first half from the second.

During the British Occupation, they were simply called, Nautch girls or dance girls. But this is far from all they did or were capable of. The name itself, Tawaif, is the term for a HIGHLY SKILLED courtesan. They were trained to the upmost of artistic forms. They were not there to perform sex acts - that was often incidental and not contractual. And the women had the power to rebuff men's advances.

The Tawaifs of India were regarded as some of the greatest performing artists of their time with documented praise and examples from travelers such as Xuanzang, a Chinese pilgrim, notable traveling Buddhist Monk and scholar who frequented India, remarking on the Tawaifs skill, beauty, and performances during once such visit to the Sun Temple in Multan. Al-Biruni, often regarded as the father of Comparative Religion studies, an Iranian polymath and scholar, regarded on their skill and larger numbers during the 11th century CE upon a visit Ganikas, another entertainer, are a public dancing girl (very common in cities from the Vedic period upward) who received classical arts training (most obviously dancing) and often performed from public settings up to royal private ones - and would compete to become Nagarvadhu - the most beautiful woman and most highly talented in forms of art (dance mostly).

Many young girls would leave or were taken to be taught these skills, and yes, there were schools for this too as well as private tutelage. People don't often realize this, but Ancient India was a place of extreme learning with all kinds of schools for different disciplines. A place of academies. Something I've talked about, like places like Nalanda, the world's oldest residential university that attracted people from far as Greece to Japan anyways, Tawaifs were so successful and sought after, that records show they were consistently among the highest tax payers.

Records also show that their wealth was used (by their consent/given) to help fund rebellions against the British Raj - enough so that the British passed laws to strip them of their ability to work as courtesans and left them only with sex work, which is sadly why some stories today only speak of them as prostitutes and not knowing their full, complex, and impactful history.

It's said the art of all this came from Urvashi, an Apsara (celestial being of dance, song, seduction/temptation, art, music).

[molkolsdal]

I photographed Farheen a few months ago in Lahore, Pakistan. I was fascinated to find out that she practices two very different arts. Farheen’s mother was a seamstress. While growing up, Farheen was always by her mother’s side, witnessing this beautiful craft. But Farheen’s mother was also passionate about singing. Today, Farheen is an appreciated fashion designer, but also a professional singer. Ghazal music is her favourite, a highly popular genre in this part of the world, inspired by ancient ghazal poetry. Farheen has inherited both of her mother’s passions and taken them to the next level.

Mihaela Noroc

[2lemon4lyfe]

Hi Iam yazan from Gaza palestain

Can you help me to share my link and donate to help my family please 🙏

https://gofund.me/13378a0e

Thank you so much for contacting me, Yazan.

Everyone, Yazan and his family used to live in Gaza City before the Zionist occupation and bombardment of the area. Their family is now displaced in tents and are seeking to flee to Egypt in order to survive. He is only 16 and was a distinguished skater who was headed to a tournament in the Netherlands but was unable to leave Gaza when this started. His older brother, Saif, was a second year university student who loved horseriding before their horse was killed when their house was bombed. His youngest sister, Ghazal, was a 6th grader who loved drawing, singing, and her cat, (who passed away due to the imposed famine). Their mother is very sick and has has 3 sugeries and theiur father is elderly. Disease are spreading and there are no medical services available to them. Yazan wants to return to his dream of skating, but first he needs to save his family and restart his life. They are raising €50,000 for thhe border crossing fee and to seek medical care, but have only reached €3,320. Please donate what you can and share to your on and offline circles so we may prevent this family from losing more than they already have.

[edwinspaynes]

9 for Thomastair please 🙏🏻🙏🏻

MY BOYS

9. Scene that first made me love (or hate) the character

For Thomas, it was his Cast Long Shadows scene. I liked him already in Nothing But Shadows, but he stood out more to me when he defended Alastair to The Merry Thieves. I found this interesting and it made me want to peel back his layers more.

For Alastair, the answer is a little more complicated. I loved Alastair even when he was still in his Bully Phase, but this is based on the metatextual information Cassie had given us. I think my heart started bleeding for him when she said that he used to sing ghazals but stopped because of bullying/racism. That naturally lead to a fascination with his dichotomous nature, and I crafted tons of headcanons for him before ChoG came out. I was already in love with him during his first ChoG appearance.

[nourpuff]

for the favorites ask game—favorite flower and favorite kind(s) of music? 💙

1. favorite flower

ohh there are so many, but I especially adore french marigolds. they grew in our backyard when I was growing up, and I remember spending my evenings sitting in a chair, just admiring the deep red and yellow hues— they always felt so warm. thank you for reminding me of such a comforting memory. 😊❤️💛

image source

2. favorite kinds of music

I often find it hard to classify the music I listen to into genres. I think it’s more about the memories and feelings tied to each song.

there are the songs I grew up with—00’s bollywood tracks that my dad and I used to sing along to during summer evenings, ghazals my grandpa used to play on his cassettes, tunes I’d hum to help my sister fall asleep...

and then there are the songs I can’t help going back to because of their lyrics, songs that have held me so many times, and ones where I’ve found little pieces of myself.

I’d love to share my spotify with you once I’ve organized my playlists, if you’d like. 🩷

these were so much fun to answer! thank you for asking, dearest!! 😊❤️

[bollywoodirect]

Tribute to Saraswati Devi, the first woman music director in Hindi films, on her 44th death anniversary (09/08/1980).

Born in a Parsi family in 1912, Saraswati Devi was a trained classical singer and rose to become India’s first woman music director of Bollywood.

A musical rage in the 30s and early 40s, Saraswati Devi's musical career was mostly confined to films produced by Bombay Talkies. Starting with 'Jawani Ki Hawa' in 1935, she went on to compose highly popular music for hit films like Achhut Kanya, Kangan, Bandhan and jhoola.

She was born as Khursheed Manchersher Minocher – Homji.

She changed her name to escape the wrath of the conservative elements of her community as they could never stand that a lady from their clan would enter the film world.

Once when at a gathering the Bombay Talkies owner Himanshu Rai heard her, he instantly invited her to join his concern as a music director. She was reluctant at first, not knowing how she would adjust herself to the needs of the film industry. But finally she accepted the offer.

She was the first woman music director no doubt. But the biggest challenge she faced was to groom non-singers into singers. That was a very, very big challenge in view of the competition from New Theatres as she didn’t have a Saigal or a Kanan to sing her compositions. That is why one should say that she had a formidable task to perform unlike her counterparts like R.C.Boral, Tamir Baran and others in Calcutta.

The biggest contribution by Saraswati Devi, therefore, was to produce hit songs through the lips of non-singers like Ashok Kumar, Devika Rani and Leela Chitnis.. Right from Achchut Kanya till Jhoola, Saraswati Devi went on rampage, so to speak, producing one hit after another. Leela Chitnis could sing hit songs like, ‘Meera ke jeevan ki sooni parri re sitar’ (Kangan), ‘Man bhavan lo sawan aya re’(Bandhan) and ‘Jhoole ke sang jhoolo jhoolo mere man’.(Jhoola) Imagine Saraswati Devi producing a golden jubilee hit in the voices of Ashok Kumar and Devika Rani in film ‘Achhut Kanya’ (a film that Nehru saw and appreciated)-‘Main ban ki chirriya ban ke ban ban bolun re’. The biggest hit by her was the marching song of Bandhan, ‘Chal chal re nau jawan’ sung in solo by Ashok Kumar, sung in chorus by Ashok Kumar and sung as a duet by him with Leela Chitnis. She used a non-singer like Sneh Prabha to sing the Puner Milan song, ‘Nacho nacho pyare man ke mor’. The male singer she had was Arun Kumar, who sung for Kishore Sahu in Punermilan, for Mumtaz Ali in ‘Jhoola’ (Main to Dilli se dulhan laya re he babuji) and others. Incidentally, it was she who gave break to Kavi Pradeep as a singer though he was writing lyrics for the concern since 1939 from film ‘Kangan’. She first used him in that immortal song of ‘Bandhan’ which is played in the back ground: ‘Piyu piyu bol praan papeehe piyu piyu bol’ Pradeep did sing subsequently some big hits after leaving Bombay Talkies. But in ‘Jhoola’ he has left behind a memorable song too tuned by Saraswati Devi: ‘Mere bichade hue saathi teri yaad sataye, baar baar teri chavi aye birha agan jaraae’

After she left Bombay Talkies, she shot into limelight again in the early fifties when she tuned two non-film ghazals for Habib Wali Mohammad. These were: ‘Lagta nahin hai dil mera ujjarre dayar mein’ and ‘Yeh na thi hamari kismet ke visaal-e-yaar hota’. When you listen to her compositions, specially the indigenously-flavored background music, you are transported into the environment of the India of the early 20th century.

During the later years of her life, the bad and selfish film world turned apathetic towards the doyenne. Not even a single person visited her when she fractured her hip bone after falling from a private bus. The legendary singer and India’s first female music director left for a better world in 1980 with no one to mourn her death. Even the media did not find her worthy of an obituary. Image: Saraswati Devi, Lata Mangeshkar, Madan Mohan, Jaikishan, Anil Biswas and Naushad

[6peaches]

Aseem Kaul - Ghalib

Tonight, you recite Ghalib from memory; because poetry, like blood, must come from the heart.

Taking a sip from your glass after every couplet, the scotch rhyming perfectly the melancholy on your tongue.

You cling to nostalgia like an empty mirror, to the scent of this language that withers like flowers.

You gather pain the way the sky gathers, pinprick by slow pinprick, the stars.

Somewhere between question and answer the feeling dissolves. The need to sing becomes

the struggle not to fall. And you arrange your ruins into one last gesture,

knowing the Beloved will not heed your call, knowing she will prove false, like God, or the Moon.

***

You write to me from Delhi, speak of summer blackouts,

of how, disconnected from the machines, you thought of Ghalib –

the bomb blast of his grief leaving the city in ruins –

and how the history of loss could be written on a feather.

When the power returned you turned the lights off,

lit a candle to see the darkness a little better,

and still the shadows were not the same.

***

“Madness”, Ghalib writes, “is never without its reasons; surely there is something that the veil is meant to protect”

And I think of all the years we have spent listening to these ghazals, the verses

falling from our lips like pieces of exquisite glass from broken window frames;

shaping our mouths to his sadness, unbuttoning our collars to let his words stain

the rubbed language of our songs. What have we been hiding from,

my friend? What longing is this inside us that we disguise in a dead man’s clothes?