ok so im currently rewatching nimona in the hindi dub (thank you @sir-ballister-boldheart-boldheart for the link! everyone should check out their great posts about it too btw)
and right of off the bat, im kinda obsessed with this line change:
in the OG, Nimonas quip/joke is "The one armed club is about to get some new members"
but in the Hindi dub its changed to "Agar inmisay kisi ka basu pasand ai toh bata'dayna" (sorry if my hinglish isnt the best i dont do this kinda thing often XO)
(which translates to: "if you find a liking to any of these arms tell me")
which is not only equally as hilarious but also soso cute cause the implication shes ready to chop of any arm he wants as a fucked up kinda karma/compensation or as a replacement is just, so good. violent and in character but also establishes a side of care for him early on which is really cool.
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恋の予感 (koi no yokan)
恋の予感
(n.) “premonition of love”;
the feeling of knowing that you will soon fall in love with the person you have just met.
a part of me knew
as soon as I saw you
from across the room,
how at a glance do we read
past and presence and future maybes
like a déjà-vu feeling of our rendezvous
yet to materialize
but maybe it’s already happened
somewhere, somehow in our past lives
our 인연 (inyeon) pulling
or as we call it: 姻緣 (jan1 jyun4)
our fated strings overlapping
for the nth time as we dance
for the first time in this reincarnation
how I knew as soon as you bent
your mouth to my ear, your voice
resonating deep in my heart space
how familiar it felt, our energies vibrating,
our electrons rubbing up and sparking,
the ease of falling into rhythm together
and riding on the same wavelength.
maybe the premonition of love
is a recognition of our entanglements
past and future inevitably colliding
and merging into each other
like a slow motion car crash
I can’t take my eyes off of
we’re set on our trajectories
to hurl right into each other,
I only hope that we both survive.
and now in the aftermath
we have spun off into our own orbits
and I’m left in my wreckage back at home
longing, steeped in saudade,
la douleur exquise—the exquisite pain
or wanting someone you cannot have.
the viraag, the anguish of separation:
at least two flights each way
(and almost a thousand USD)
and a 9 hour time difference.
if only to feel the cafuné,
to run my fingers through your hair
as we wake to each other in your hotel room
again and again falling into each other
but that moment has passed
and to hold on or to try to return
might be cavoli riscaldati
and try as we might to resuscitate,
boiling the cabbage does not
bring it back to life.
I’ll tend to my sehnsucht
with sad songs and metaphor,
drawing from the poets and linguists
and even the Buddhists
I borrow from all these languages
to try to hold this thing I cannot name.
I remind myself
the most heartbreaking words:
(from Fleabag, the masterpiece)
“I love you.”
“It will pass.”
until one day
this
whatever it is
fades and frays
into разлюбить
(razliubit).
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