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st-kitten · 6 days ago

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brat party pt.5

pt.6

note: this chapter portrays y/n as indian, so i'll understand if you're uneasy with it. but it's for the sake of the story. and i've put my heart and soul into writing some of it. my culture is very dear to me. but i hope you enjoy nonetheless!

i have used a clip of sofya simha, one of my favourite odissi dancers. it is not the most fitting dance to the song i've chosen, but i hope it gets the sentiment across. apologies to actual, passionate dancers :")

ngl i be speedrunning through this story before college starts

warnings: sasuke having anxiety because y/n, y/n being an absolute menace (in a nice way), y/n ego boost (because we are her, she is us)

the next morning, the uchiha family gathered at the uchiha shrine, the cold winter air crisp and biting. you felt out of place at first, standing among the sea of black and blue, but mikoto had been insistent, handing you one of her own black yukatas. it bore the iconic uchiha crest, bold and proud on the back and subtly stitched into the lapel. "you’ll blend right in," she’d said with a warm smile, though you couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious.

firstly, because hello? this was a family gathering? and you were not family? secondly, you'd expected fugaku to reject your inclusion but surprisingly, he had said nothing in the matter.

so there you stood. trying not to freeze in the cold air, people staring at you.

your foreign features lent an exotic charm to your appearance—soft, rich milky skin that seemed to glow against the dark fabric, and dark brown hair swept into a traditional japanese hairdo, though a few errant strands rebelliously slipped free, framing your face. eyes laden with thick eyelashes, full, sharp eyebrows

your lips, stained with dark red lipstick, stood out like a bold statement, perfectly complementing the faint blush on your cheeks—courtesy of the cold air and perhaps, just perhaps, the weight of sasuke's intense gaze. your almond-shaped eyes, lined with expertly applied eyeliner, gleamed with a quiet confidence, every stroke accentuating their expressive depth.

but for sasuke? the sight of you in that yukata hit him like a ton of bricks.

he tried to play it cool, arms crossed over his chest, standing stoically as the family performed the rituals. but his dark eyes betrayed him, flickering toward you every few seconds, his gaze practically glued to the uchiha crest on your back. it was maddening. the sight of you, draped in his family’s colors, wearing the crest that represented centuries of his clan’s pride—it stirred something primal in him.

he clenched his jaw, trying to shake off the heat rising in his chest, but it was no use. the way the yukata framed your figure, the way the faint winter breeze toyed with the strands of your hair—it was all too much. his hands itched to reach out, to touch you, to pull you closer.

your every gesture so graceful and deliberate. you weren’t just wearing the uchiha crest; you belonged in it. and that thought? it turned him on far more than he cared to admit.

he glanced away, determined to focus on literally anything else. the swirling incense smoke? riveting. the shrine’s ancient wooden beams? fascinating. the murmurs of surrounding family discussing where to buy quality ink? absolutely enthralling. but his traitorous eyes kept snapping back to you.

he clenched his jaw. stop looking, idiot, he thought. but two seconds later, there he was again, catching sight of you tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. he groaned internally.

what was it about that stupid yukata? maybe it was the way the uchiha crest sat perfectly on your back, or the fact that his mom’s eyeliner handiwork had you looking like you stepped out of a historical drama. even worse? you were the one who did her eyeliner, like it was no big deal, and now the two of you were giggling together like old friends.

he glanced at the incense smoke again. nope, even that wasn’t helping—because it was curling in a way that looked suspiciously like the outline of your hair. for a moment, he seriously considered pretending to sneeze, just to snap himself out of it.

as everyone stood together, a unified yet segregated display of tradition—men on one side, women on the other—you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the moment. the atmosphere was thick with reverence, the air tinged with the smoky aroma of incense.

at the altar, the clan patriarch, uchiha madara himself, commanded attention. his presence was haunting, almost otherworldly, as though history itself had taken human form.

even among the imposing figures of the uchiha men, madara stood apart—dangerous, regal, and completely untouchable. his voice, low and resonant, carried through the shrine as he performed the intricate rituals with an ease that only centuries of lineage could bestow.

it felt like being transported back in time. where the 21st century world went about their day, you were in this corner, bearing witness to centuries of tradition.

you adjusted the borrowed yukata ever so slightly, the crest on your back suddenly feeling heavier under the scrutiny of a man whose legacy built the very ground you were standing on.

after the prayers, fugaku led his family to formally greet madara. the atmosphere shifted, a near-tangible weight settling in the air as everyone approached the clan’s patriarch. but as madara's gaze landed on you—a non-uchiha standing amongst his kin—his glare sharpened to something almost predatory, merciless and unforgiving.

fugaku, ever the diplomat, stepped forward hastily. “lord madara, her presence here is purely circumstantial,” he assured, his tone measured, though there was a faint tension beneath it. “it is not meant to interfere with the sanctity of our gathering.”

madara’s eyes didn’t waver, black and bottomless, dissecting every fibre of your being.

then, madara’s hand moved with a deliberate, almost theatrical precision, the air around him seeming to still as he reached behind him. in one fluid motion, he whipped out his legendary sensu fan, the sound of its unfolding echoing like a blade being unsheathed.

sasuke’s heart leapt into his throat, his muscles coiling as he braced himself to act if need be.

but you just stood there, in all your 5'6" glory, looking up at the monstrous man as if he’d just asked you to pass the salt.

madara’s fan hovered mid-air, his black eyes narrowing ever so slightly. was it irritation? amusement? no one could tell—least of all sasuke, whose brain was short-circuiting watching you face down the man who could probably level a forest with that fan if he felt like it.

you, however, looked like you were about to ask him if he needed a second coat of polish on the thing.

madara eventually looked away.

sasuke risked a glance at you, his dark eyes narrowing slightly in disbelief. did you just… out-stare uchiha madara?

madara's dark, deep voice resonated like a distant thunderclap.

"uchiha is a crown my people wear. the name is a power we possess, and a reputation we hold. to not be an uchiha," he looked at you with a piercing gaze, "is a misfortune. to be one is a privilege unmatched. let this taste of uchiha rituals quench your thirst to experience the extraordinary. you are not an uchiha by blood."

his tone was icy, designed to cut, but instead of shrinking back, you held his gaze, calm and unflinching.

"something tells me," you replied with quiet wisdom, your voice steady, "you believe more that an uchiha is forged... and not born."

sasuke watched the exchange in stunned silence, his eyes narrowing slightly as you delivered your line with a level of confidence he could only describe as suicidal.

“this is it,” he thought dryly, staring at madara’s ever-intimidating fan. “this is how we all die. because this... yapping idiot decided to get philosophical with madara uchiha.”

madara’s expression remained carved from stone, his fan still gripped in his hand. then, after an icy moment of silence, madara uchiha smirked.

what. the. everloving. fuck.

what was with you and getting the stoically expert uchiha men to smile? first fugaku, now literally madara? it was like you had some bizarre ability to bypass generations of ingrained stoicism and hit their "hey, i kinda like you" button.

as madara turned and strode away, the heavy tension he left in his wake began to dissolve, like the air was finally safe to breathe again. before anyone could say a word, sasuke grabbed your wrist and all but dragged you a few steps away, his grip firm but not rough.

he turned to you, his eyes a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “what the hell is wrong with you?” he hissed, his voice low enough to not attract attention but sharp enough to convey his point. “you don’t just—challenge madara uchiha like that. are you trying to get yourself killed?”

you gasped. "i was reasoning with his... speech?"

“reasoning?” he repeated, his voice dripping with incredulity. “you’re lucky he didn’t use that fan to send you flying into next week.”

“but he didn’t, did he?” you shot back, crossing your arms.

sasuke ran a hand down his face, clearly torn between frustration and grudging admiration. “he smirked. madara smirked. do you know what that means?”

you tilted your head. “that he... has critical thinking skills?”

“no,” he snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose. “it means you’ve officially scared me more than he does. congratulations.”

--------

when you all arrived at uchiha manor for a short tea break, the air carried a quiet serenity, broken only by the soft bubbling of the koi pond nearby. sasuke and you sat by the edge, the light dappling off the water in golden ripples, the koi swimming lazily beneath. the breeze, gentle but mischievous, decided to toy with the fabric of your borrowed yukata.

sasuke's eyes followed the gentle movement of your yukata, drawn to the exposed skin beneath. the way the fabric slid across your shoulder, revealing the soft curve of your neck, sent a shiver down his spine.

without hesitation, sasuke closed the distance between you, to kiss your exposed shoulder. he left wet kisses over the expanse of your shoulder, slowly moving to where your neck began, sinking his teeth into the tender flesh.

you let out a soft moan, your neck and cheeks red. that sight of you in that uchiha yukata, his mark on your skin, your exposed shoulder, was like a japanese burlesque painting come alive.

with a sudden surge of possessiveness, sasuke claimed your mouth in a searing kiss, pouring all his pent-up desire and longing into the embrace. his hands slid over your yukata, skimming over the smooth skin of your back, before gripping your waist and pressing you firmly against him.

you opened your mouth to deepen the kiss and he took the chance to slide his tongue inside. he kissed you as one would eat a creamy cake, messily, hungrily, savouring every taste.

"mmm... someone's... hhnn... coming," you moaned, breaking the kiss, and fixing your yukata.

"tea's ready," said itachi, his hands behind his back, eyes fixed on sasuke.

"yes, let's go," he replied curtly to itachi, already turning towards the manor. you simply followed.

the tea break was serene, the kind of stillness only the uchiha manor could provide.

mikoto poured tea gracefully, her movements elegant as ever, while fugaku sat at the head of the table, his posture as straight and commanding as his reputation demanded.

"itachi, sasuke," fugaku began, his deep voice slicing through the quiet. "we need to leave in an hour to finalise the documentation for the ancestral properties. i expect both of you to be prepared."

itachi gave a small nod, his ever-calm demeanour unshaken. "of course, father. everything’s in order on my end."

sasuke, seated beside you, responded with a simple "hn," though his mind was far from the property disputes. he had tried—oh, he had tried—to keep his focus elsewhere, but every time he glanced in your direction, he found himself utterly undone. more so now, because of the gorgeous hickey he knew was hidden under the lapel of your yukata.

great. just great. leave her alone with my mother while i try to figure out how to stop thinking about her, he thought to himself.

"you seem eager to leave, sasuke," itachi remarked dryly, his lips quirking ever so slightly.

"i’m just being efficient," sasuke muttered, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.

fugaku, oblivious to the subtext, simply nodded. "good. efficiency is important."

"well, don’t worry, sasuke. y/n and i will be just fine without you. i’ll make sure she’s well taken care of," said mikoto.

that’s what i’m afraid of, sasuke thought grimly as he stood, excusing himself to prepare for the trip. leaving the room felt like a small mercy—a temporary reprieve from the battle raging in his head.

--------

the afternoon sun had begun its descent, casting grey clouds over the sprawling uchiha manor grounds as itachi and sasuke made their way back from their errand. the air was crisp, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore below was a steady, soothing rhythm. they walked along the walkway overlooking the beach, their footsteps quiet against the stone path, but itachi’s sharp eyes caught something—a figure in the distance, near the ruins by the water.

sasuke noticed too, his pace slowing as he squinted against the fading sunlight. the figure was draped in blue, an outfit neither of them recognised, certainly not something traditional to the uchiha. but they both knew who it was as soon as they saw her.

“y/n?” sasuke muttered under his breath, his voice almost betraying his confusion.

itachi, ever the observer, raised an eyebrow. “that’s new.”

the two exchanged a glance before silently agreeing to approach, the curiosity piquing despite themselves. they descended the stony steps that led to the beach, the rocks underfoot slippery and jagged, but they moved with ease, accustomed to the terrain. as they neared the ruins, they could see you more clearly now.

as they neared, they could hear music coming from the small speaker you'd placed on. rock nearby, your phone next to it.

you stood there in the ruins, draped in a blue sari with a delicate black border, the fabric catching the light of the fading sun, your waist exposed to the rays. the pleats of the skirt fell in soft, measured folds. your hair was tied in a bun, but a few stands managed to run errant anyway.

sasuke’s brows furrowed as he realised it wasn’t just the clothing that was unfamiliar; it was the way you were moving, the way you were... dancing?

he blinked, momentarily stunned. she can dance? it was the last thing he’d expected.

your hands, delicate and expressive, traced the air with slow, graceful gestures, the intricate mudras—the hand gestures that told stories and spoke without words—coming to life with every flick of your wrist, every gentle curl of your fingers. your arms arched as if they were an extension of the wind, flowing in time with the soft beat of the music, the faint notes of the indian classical song filling the space between your movements.

it wasn't just the dance that sasuke stared at, mesmerised. it was the way your face mirrored the deep, soulful emotion woven into the melody.

worry creased your brow for a fleeting moment, like a gentle tremor in the otherwise fluid composition of your face. then, as if following the curve of the music itself, desperation softened into sadness, and the melancholia in your eyes deepened. it was as if every note, every word that flowed from the song, spoke directly to you, and you gave voice to those emotions in the subtle arch of your brow and the tender curve of your lips. but oh your eyes.

sasuke didn’t understand the lyrics, nor the language, but he could feel them in the air around him. the ache in your gaze was palpable—he could see it, in the way your eyes shifted from the horizon to the ruins around you, as if searching for something, or perhaps, someone. the pain of unrequited love, the deep, heart-wrenching longing for the beloved, was written across your face in every slow, deliberate movement.

he had seen many things in his life—fights, losses, even battles of the soul—but he had never witnessed something so raw, so tender, and so painfully beautiful. the yearning you portrayed with every glance, every glide of your hand, struck him harder than anything he had ever known. the intense, aching love you danced with was so foreign to him, yet it was something he couldn’t turn away from.

"she's good," itachi remarked, his voice calm, almost indifferent, though there was an unusual depth to his words.

sasuke shifted uncomfortably beside him.

"didn't know she could dance," sasuke muttered, his voice slightly rough, almost as if he was trying to convince his all-knowing brother that he was completely detached from you.

"you don't seem to be talking about the dance," itachi observed, his voice as neutral as ever, but there was a slight glint in his eyes, like he was enjoying this just a little more than he should.

sasuke's expression hardened, but his eyes remained locked on you. "i’m not," he admitted, his tone a mixture of frustration and something else. "i don’t get it. it’s like... she’s so into it. like she’s... somewhere else."

"she’s letting it out," itachi said simply, his voice low. "sometimes, people need to express what they can’t say. maybe that's what this is."

sasuke looked at his brother, his brow furrowed. “i don’t know. it’s just... it’s not just the dance. it’s the way she’s feeling it. you know? i don’t even understand the song, but i feel it too. and i don’t... want to feel it."

itachi’s gaze didn’t waver from you. “people don’t always have control over what they feel,” he said, as if it were the simplest truth in the world.

"maybe she doesn't want you to understand. maybe she’s just showing you something you’re not ready for."

sasuke tensed at his brother's words, the weight of them settling into his chest like a stone. his eyes stayed fixed on you, still dancing, each movement speaking to him in a way he couldn’t quite grasp. "i just want her to stop," he muttered, but even as the words left his mouth, he knew he didn't mean them. "i can’t... handle this."

the melancholic pull of the b minor scale was like a whisper of vulnerability, unearthing memories and feelings he had locked away long ago. the steady rhythm, four beats per bar with its emphasis on the first, was eerily similar to the beat of his heart—strong, deliberate, but faltering ever so slightly as he watched you move.

the violins in the background carried a wistfulness that resonated with the ache he couldn't quite define, while the tabla's steady yet intricate rhythm mimicked the turmoil of his thoughts—measured, calculated on the surface, yet chaotic within.

the lyrics may have been foreign to him, but the longing they carried—mirrored in the dance and the melody—was painfully familiar.

the uchiha ruins were usually neglected, occasionally cleaned under the pretext of preservation. but today, as itachi and sasuke stood at the edge of the crumbling path, his sharp gaze fixed on you, the ruins felt alive. there you were, moving gracefully across the uneven ground, your sari flowing like liquid poetry, a striking contrast to the muted decay around you.

divine justice, itachi thought, his lips curving slightly.

“she belongs there,” itachi murmured softly, the words carrying a quiet reverence.

sasuke, standing beside him, barely registered the statement. his dark eyes were locked on you, his brow furrowed as if caught between admiration and agony.

“what?” he asked, his voice distracted.

“nothing,” itachi replied.

itachi wasn’t sure if it was divine justice, redemption, or simply the effect of one person’s presence. but he knew this: for the first time in years, the ruins didn’t look abandoned— they looked like home...

[this is close to what itachi and sasuke saw, same song described in the story. if ur curious, it's "o re piya" by rahat fateh ali khan, literally says "oh, my love" (꒦ີ﹏꒦ີ｡)‪‪❤︎‬]

you slowed to a halt, your chest rising and falling with the rhythm of your laboured breaths. brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, you turned toward your phone resting on a rock, likely to queue up another song. but as your eyes lifted, they landed on two dark silhouettes standing on the rocks, both eerily still, their gazes pinned to you.

your soul nearly leapt out of your body, as you jolted in place, startled. just dive in, and they’ll forget this ever happened.

itachi, ever the gentleman, took a step forward, his expression calm but laced with just the faintest hint of amusement. “i apologise if we startled you,” he said, his voice smooth and measured. “that wasn’t our intention.”

you nodded nervously, smiling, "had me descend to sea permanently there."

his lips quirked upward ever so slightly. “i’m relieved you chose not to.”

itachi approached you slowly, patient footsteps on the ruined rocks.

“you didn’t mention being a dancer.”

"i'm no dancer... i just... dance," you said softly, brushing it off, dusting the sand out of the pleats in your sari.

his tall frame towered over you as his sharp, yet calm eyes traced the intricate details of your attire.

“the attire,” he began, his voice smooth and contemplative, “it’s different from what i’m accustomed to seeing. beautiful… and purposeful, i assume?”

you blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sudden scrutiny from the elder uchiha. “oh, uh, yeah. it’s a bharatnatyam-inspired look,” you explained, gesturing vaguely to your sari. “it’s a classical indian dance form, so the attire is designed to be both functional and symbolic.”

itachi’s head tilted slightly, his dark eyes sharpening with interest. “baratsunachiam,” he repeated slowly (failing obviously), tasting the unfamiliar word on his tongue. “the dance… it was unlike anything i’ve seen. is every movement intentional? every expression rehearsed?”

you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “pretty much. it’s about telling a story—emotions, myths, devotion. everything has a meaning, even the way you position your fingers.”

you raised your hand, demonstrating a mudra. “this, for example, symbolises a deer.”

itachi’s gaze lingered on your hands as you shifted your fingers fluidly, forming a delicate mrigamudra. the thumb touching the middle and ring fingers lightly while the other fingers extended gracefully, resembling the head of a deer.

itachi’s expression shifted to mild intrigue. “like this?” he murmured, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he raised his hand, attempting to replicate the gesture.

you gently touched his fingers to align them well. the movement was quick, almost automatic, but it caught sasuke’s attention like a lightning strike. his eyes darted to the two of you, his lips thinning into a frowning line as he watched you correct itachi’s hand posture.

“and now, move it like this,” you added, demonstrating the graceful sway of your wrist, as though the deer was frolicking.

itachi imitated the motion, his hand still a little stiff, but there was an unmistakable effort in his attempt. “hm,” he hummed, his dark eyes flicking between his hand and yours. “it’s deceptively simple, but far more intricate than it appears."

meanwhile, sasuke stood stiffly off to the side, his arms crossed so tightly it was a wonder he hadn’t cut off circulation. his expression was a perfect storm of irritation and barely-contained turmoil. his brother, of all people, was standing there bonding with you over graceful hand movements, and sasuke didn’t know whether to be impressed, annoyed, or just retreat into the ocean himself.

“it’s not that difficult,” sasuke muttered suddenly, his voice low and begrudging, though no one had asked for his input.

you turned toward him, raising an eyebrow. “oh? care to try, then?”

he immediately regretted opening his mouth but couldn’t back down now. “no,” he said, his tone curt.

the three of you walked back towards the manor.

they weren’t quite sure when they started noticing it—your feet. small, delicate, and lightly dusted with grains of sand, yet every step you took seemed impossibly precise. your deep arch flexed slightly with each movement, your toes spreading just enough to balance on the uneven, rocky surface of the beach. it was as if even walking was an art form for you, something they’d taken for granted until now.

“do you always walk barefoot on beaches?” itachi asked finally, his tone curious but calm.

"why not..."

itachi’s gaze lingered on your feet for a moment before he spoke, his voice as steady as the tide. “what makes it so natural for you?”

you glanced up at him, a small, serene smile playing on your lips. “there’s something sacred about letting your feet meet the earth,” you said, your tone soft but resolute. “it’s a way of acknowledging where we come from, staying connected to something bigger than ourselves. my dance teachers always said it’s how we show respect to the ground we stand on.”

sasuke, trailing a step behind, stole a glance at you as though against his will. he wasn’t sure what unnerved him more: the ease with which you spoke of something so intangible, or how it felt like a truth he hadn’t realised he was searching for.

why couldn't you just be an ordinary person he occasionally hooked up with? why did you have to be so... fucking poetic? sasuke thought. he didn't know whether he was disturbed, anxious, or third worse thing.

the way you brought change with you as the tides brought seashells.

it drove him mad.

it wasn't supposed to be this way.

this was casual. no strings.

those very terms seemed like a joke to him now.

just what had you become?

#sasuke #uchiha sasuke #uchiha #itachi #uchiha itachi #fugaku #mikoto #naruto au #sfw #indian #dance #bharatnatyam #music #sasuke x reader #sasuke x y/n #y/n #why en

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ternaryflower53 · 9 months ago

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Last Line Game

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like).

thank you @windrunnered for tagging me! i am Also going to break the rules to give y'all a little bit more context - this is a fic i'm writing about a character with the omegaverse equivalent of pmdd

“Good morning again,” Hizashi says. “Heat hitting you pretty hard?” “Mmph.” Aizawa grunts, and Hizashi laughs. “You want me to help you?” Yes. No. Shouta doesn’t know. He doesn’t want anything right now, really.

tagging: @melancholic-pigeon @simha-nakshatra @alyssumlovesthecosmere and uhh whoever else feels like doing it!

#mostly i don't remember which of y'all have active wips and which of y'all will get stressed with wip games #anyway #thanks for the tag!!

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pbjelly90art · 11 months ago

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Spaceverse art!

Okay so I haven't decided exactly how I'm organizing these yet, but here's my first batch of the Spaceverse art posts! I've got a backlog of at least 205+ artworks to archive for this, so I had to get started somewhere. This is the original RP (and basis for my novel in progress) that I write with my friend Sakume, dating back some years now (maybe since 2019?) I don't have a title for the novel yet, so this is simply known as Spaceverse for now.

These characters originally came from some old forums we wrote on (circa 2006 at the start), and one day I came up with a new AU for them in a completely new space fantasy setting, with a new plot and new origins for the characters. I asked my friends Sakume and Cookie to participate, and this story was born. Cookie no longer actively writes in this RP with us, but some of their characters still show up in the art here and I'm very grateful for their contributions.

Sakume and I still write together and are adding new characters all the time! :) I grouped this batch of art to include sketches that mainly featured characters hailing from the planet of Illumina or the moon sanctuary of Nova Lux.

In order here we have: sketches of Cadenza, Altair/Vivace (her sister in the novel version, unrelated in the RP but may retcon, also Fabi/Alex's late mom and Anton's late wife), then Cadenza's daughter Luisa and a sketch of Cadenza in prison back on the Vault where it all started. Then we have Luisa and (spoiler!) young/child form Dawa, Cadenza with Adam, Adam himself, and then a bunch of sketches of their family together. Following that, we have Queen Venus (aka Elena), Cadenza's mom Sonya, Sonya with Leona, Xiulan, sketches of Cadenza and a masked Xiulan, Mingzhu, Joan (not an Illumin character but hey she ended up on my sketch page back then), older/adult form Dawa, young Dawa, Mingzhu, Cadenza's dad Galliard, Louis (another non-Illumin here to fit page space), Cadenza's sister Luminari, Cadenza herself, Lu with her husband Jaster, Simha (revamped character to replace Leona) and then Cascadia Riveria (Faer character, but happened to be on that sketchbook page.) Then lastly a few pencil sketches I missed, Xiulan, Mercy with Ramiro, Luminari and Cadenza, and some of my initial concept sketches of Spaceverse Cadenza and Luisa.

At the very end, we have some much older sketches that predate this RP, with Mother Carla, Ancient Ren of the Order, and Cadenza's late husband Paris (along with a sketch of Cadenza from a previous story where she was a human mage with shadow magic), previous versions of Vivace, Algretta, Luminari, Arietta, Cadenza, Sonya, Galliard, Reymundo, Izumi, Xiulan, Sarai (an angelo who hasn't appeared in the RP yet, but I might adapt to use her design for Damien's mom Dinah), Shui Ya of Nova Lux, and Fletcher (a Faer character, but he happened to be on this page.) I still need to draw many of these characters some new portraits as their phantasm selves in this storyverse/setting, but I'm saving these older drawings for reference.

Some characters are going to show up that don't quite fit into these groupings because I tend to just draw whoever I feel like on my paper that fits before scanning them in. x3 Sometimes I edit them after to reorganize, but often times not.

Adam and Jaster belong to Sakume, and Leona and Joan belong to Cookie. The rest of the characters belong to me, but big credit to both of my friends for their help developing the world, organizations and characters, particularly in this case, Cookie brainstorming the Order of Lux Aeterna/Nova Lux with me, and Sakume brainstorming so many of the Vault characters and more.

Also small side note: I've been using the surname "Madrigal" since 2006 for Cadenza and her family waaay back on Zelda Universe forums, but I'm super happy it's way more popular a name now thanks to Encanto and I do love that movie. The movie was in no way a basis for these names, but I love to see more Latin culture and names in media, so I'm all for it. ^_^

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musicarenagh · 1 year ago

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‎Join Zero Carbon Effect On ‘The Great Rewilding’ To Make The World A Better PlaceYou wouldn’t believe me if I say this is the first time the quartet Zero Carbon Band (ZCB) entered a recording studio to record a song, yet their debut EP “The Great Rewilding” says otherwise, it sounds nothing like newbies, because they are used to live set. When SI-Fi, Benjamin Simha, Rat Thunder, and Nic combine their musical powers the quartet morphs into Zero Carbon Band (ZCB), and The Great Rewilding is an end product of the band’s hard work and determination. Listening to the EP you can literally taste the band the sweat and the effort which had to go into creating this sound. The Great Rewilding has a total of 5 songs It was recorded at the Brook Studio in Wallington., with mind-boggling lyrics the band aims at making significant changes in our ecosystem. Zero Carbon Band (ZCB) is the world’s only premiership Eco-pop band, writing unique original Indie/funk Eco-pop and they chuck in the odd upcycled eco-worded tune for a live set. The songs are unique and refreshing they are strict on making the world a better place by drawing attention to the trees surrounding us, the sea, and other contributing factor to bettering the earth. Members of the Zero Carbon Band are: Si-Fi - lead guitar and backing vocals Benjamin Simha - lead vocals, acoustic guitar Rat Thunder - drums and other percussion, backing vocals, harmonica Nic - bass, flute Tracklist I’m a Tree Sinking Seasick Homesick Blues The Great Rewilding Commotion in the Ocean Listen to The Great Rewilding https://open.spotify.com/album/6LhybZntVLhxr0LQmoA81E Follow Zero Carbon Band Instagram Facebook Spotify

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catboy-jaebeom · 2 years ago

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I posted 9,513 times in 2022

That's 6,262 more posts than 2021!

41 posts created (0%)

9,472 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

lefluff

@eyes-of-simha

@meant-to-be-a-hero

@arel-o-imladris

@iforgotmyurl

I tagged 7,353 of my posts in 2022

Only 23% of my posts had no tags

#got7 - 778 posts

#positivity - 740 posts

#!!! - 662 posts

#writing ideas - 613 posts

#writing references - 550 posts

#art - 454 posts

#cats - 289 posts

#queer stuff - 277 posts

#bitter millennial blogging - 250 posts

#hübsche menschen - 226 posts

Longest Tag: 124 characters

#🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸

My Top Posts in 2022:

week two of #got7revival: fave era

visually: JayB's Piercing Era

this was the first look and the first couple of pictures I've ever seen of Jaebeom, and although I wasn't present yet when it happened, mentally I'm still there and I cannot wait for him to maybe at least get his nose pierced again. YOU GUYS WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT HAS HAPPENED!! I've seen the posts of non-ahgase asking who the "piercing guy in GOT7" was, and I wish I had already been a kpop fan at that time, but alas. ( the long hair is a very pretty bonus, too!! )

See the full post

10 notes - Posted October 20, 2022

week one of #got7revival: bias & wrecker

bias: Jaebeom & Youngjae

jaebeom was the first member of GOT7 I found while looking for faceclaims for my fantasy novel about one and a half years ago ( march 2021 ) ; he got me and a friend into kpop and the rest is history. I love this weird cat guy ( affectionate ) with his twin moles and the utter passion and leadership he always brings to the table. I also adore that he talks about his depression and anxiety so relatively openly. he wouldn't need to, and yet he does, and I respect that a lot. it makes even me feel better about myself, and I thought I had a really good grip on mine.

once I knew the members and had gotten familiar with their character and all, I started gravitating towards youngjae as well. I sometimes wonder whether he wouldn't have been my ( actual / only ) bias in GOT7 if a) jaebeom wasn't so very special to me that it feels wrong to switch biases, and b) I had already known the members when I had gotten into GOT7, or if GOT7 hadn't been my very first group and I had already been much more familiar with how groups worked and all that. he's 97 percent shy, innocent maknae, and 3 percent a wicked minx who nobody can be mad at and I love that for him.

the bottom line is that I bias them both and they seem to be okay with having shared custody, if you wanna call it that. I'm calling it that now.

btw, I always consider those people the bias that I have a soft spot for, who I relate to on a personality level, who make me feel all warm and cozy when I watch them do their thing — and the wrecker is the one that just wrecks me with their visuals or voice or whatever it is. I can't look at them for long because that's overwhelming because they're so v attractive ( not saying my biases aren't, but the wreckers just take a bat and swing it at me, while the biases just don't cause that reaction in my brain ) idk, I hope this makes sense, but I've heard people describe biases as the ones that are in "first place" and the wreckers are trying to dethrone them and that's just not my definition of it. kakdif no hate tho! just wanted to explain that.

See the full post

14 notes - Posted October 11, 2022

not to be a nerd on main about this, but we should stop transcribing 형 / 누나 and 오빠* / 언니 as bro / sis. linguistically they have very different connotations and it's kinda driving me up a wall as someone who's very invested and interested in languages, like, I do realize that especially casual watchers of like kdramas, who just started getting into them after Netflix or whomever added a bunch of them to their library, don't really care and that's totally fine with me! it's a considerably small thing, and if you just wanna watch something without diving into the language or culture or anything, then you're totally free to, that's valid, honestly

just. that's not what those words mean, connotation-wise and every time I read "bro!" or "sis!" in Netflix's or even YT's subtitles I die a bit inside.

obviously I'm not Korean and if anyone who speaks the language well / lives in Korea and is well familiar with when those are used, wants to weigh in, feel absolutely free to!

but to break it down briefly, those are honorifics attached to a person's name if they're older than you, but not, like, significantly. older students, older colleagues at work if you're a bit more friendly with them, friends, and ( your actual ) siblings. they are normal and do not immediately imply you view the other person as a sort of sibling from another parent.

yes, they do basically translate to "older brother" / "older sister", but transcribing it with "bro" and "sis" respectively has an entirely different impact than what they are actually supposed to infer. it's a polite suffix, that can in certain situations also imply trust or a more intimate relationship, because otherwise ( especially outside of a school context ) you'd use 씨 ( shee ) after their name. just that nobody especially in a school context does that because they use 형 ( hyeong / hyung ) / 누나 ( noona ) and 오빠* ( oppa ) / 언니 ( eonnie / unnie ) — former is used by males and latter by females, both times to address an older 'brother' / an older 'sister' respectively — either alone or after their name.

the companion piece is adding 아 or 야 (-a for names with a consonant at the end or -ya for those with a vowel ) to the names of people younger than you ( or those you're close with ) — and for example in All Of Us Are Dead they do that all the time and it's not transcribed by cutesy-fying their names is it now. they just put their names into the subtitles and move on.

I personally think it'd be much better to simply use you in any other sentence and if some character yells 형! across the room in distress, to transcribe it with the other character's name for emphasis. that's for me personally the closest, connotation-wise.

or, you know, have hyeong / noona / eunnie / oppa* in the transcript / subtitles in italics and explain it with some translator annotation the first time it appears alone. but that's generally an issue with subtitles on such platforms I feel. they remove words when creating the subtitles and leave out such nuances because gods forbid they'd force casual viewers to pause the show to read the annotations akskdkf. either way,

tl;dr they don't use teen slang in kdramas all the time even if the subtitles would have you believe otherwise and it's probably a problem that stems from companies thinking they can't "bother" their customers with having to pause to read, but I think that's simply taking away important context to a depicted story and I'd really like it to stop, thank you.

*oppa is a bit special because it is also used as a sort of term of endearment by women towards their boyfriends, or like, when they flirt with them pre-relationship, so it can also imply a romantic interest, be mindful of that. but I'd assume then it'd be transcribed with some sort of babe or honey or something.

14 notes - Posted March 4, 2022

week three of #got7revival: fave choreo

See the full post

35 notes - Posted October 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

can't believe my dear friend Jonathan is so polite he didn't even get angry when his host simply destroyed his shaving mirror, the only working mirror in the whole castle, especially after he didn't see him in said mirror, like, I get you are finally seeming to catch up but Jonathan pls catch up faster, I'm begging

36 notes - Posted May 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#my 2022 tumblr year in review #got7 #dracula daily #languages #neonlight posties #was leafmiilk #I'm not surprised about got7 being so far up my tag list kwkdkfkskd #and yes I untagged someone from the most reblogged list don't ask about it

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voidformation · 3 years ago

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appa urges me to meditate after i shower. i’ve just wasted some time. worked today but then spent time just chatting and being on the internet. i went to shower at 8, masturbated and then had a nice shower. 8:20 i was out i think and wanted to study, but my saradu was wet from the shower and made my notes wet, so i waited by spending time on my phone in protest. i noticed it dried but decided i would not just start studying now in spite, but perform neivedyam as appa requested, with that meditation.

i sit down on just the floor and try to adjust my ankles. they aren’t relaxed. i close my eyes and sit up straight. stilling my breath. i’m already warm under my post-shower sweatshirt. i start saying the navarna mantra quietly but then wonder if i’m being loud. i shift to chanting internally.

it suddenly strikes me, unconsciously, as some thoughts begin to creep in, just how dumb it is. how dumb it is that thoughts creep in like this. i feel a surge of knowledge that i am in control of these thoughts too ~ it was stronger than this but shorter than this of a thought. i was surprised though, as usually thoughts creep in and out. and they tug and tug and the attention is directed and redirected. and it feels hapless and helpless. but this was an innate urge.

(perhaps the electricity that i feel that is actually tingly and a little bit uncomfortable, especially at the ajna chakra, is my kundalini. “my” so silly - HER! it’s Her)

the unthought thought about thoughts already startles me. i believe it must be the power of the mantra. it strikes me a bit afterwards that this is the magic (i use “magic” poetically here). i think in between the thing before and the next thing, i have a thought about self-realization. i think about wallis and i think about women. and i think about all the mantras and about how women just float to their self-knowledge without all these silly structures. but then it strikes me that i must stop leaving the present moment.

ways i leave the present moment are firstly excitement to tell appa about how my meditation went. i also think about writing about what i’m experiencing. i also think about how it would look to others. i think about myself reaching the goal. i realize all these thoughts as they come and realize I MUST BE HERE. I MUST BE HERE NOW! it is each of these sounds. hearing them and savoring them. that’s the present moment. it gives me a tingle between my eyebrows. and so this is what i try to do.

it is so powerful. i feel enveloped. i try to remember these sounds are goddesses but in fact what i am starting to experience is more all-encompassing.

i also have a thought somewhere at the beginning about dalit people. how i feel broken about what they are given to work with in life. i think about karma and any feelings of superiority. that thought even though i did not dwell on it, came to a similar conclusion. the conclusion that it doesn’t matter where one is. as i thought about appa and how i am given all these chances to pursue spirituality. but i conclude that it is about nothing but now. it is how you act now. thinking of the past is a desecration of the present. it has not bearing. (i think these thoughts now:) the past is simply the unraveling of previous present moments. the present moment is the creation of the future past.

i did not sit for more than 5 minutes. my experiences are so profound. i fear much and i exalt myself more. but i must just keep keeping on.

some other thoughts that came up: i wondered about wallis’s claim that shaktipat will also bring one the ability to understand deeply spiritual topics. yet most of abhinavagupta by way of thimil simha ji remains a mystery me. as i wondered earlier about dalit people, i also wondered why leaders are still not more loving to them. i feel that i can understand. but i feel that men who are regaled as spiritual masters still lack this basic kindness (and now i realize it is not only toward avarnas but toward women too). i can see why atheists are frustrated. i can see why the random internet man depicts male gods in the way he does (subreddit adventures from earlier, don’t want to elaborate here). this has gotten off topic! but it’s processing i so when i am less in the state as i was when the above was happening and after it happened :)

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melancholic-pigeon · 7 months ago

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I write pjo fic btw, in case this is relevant to anyone's interests!

(thanks to @simha-nakshatra for egging me on and helping patch my plot holes <33)

Hi I did a thing

I'm still working on being a human being in this heat, thanks for bearing with me 🤍

The Preadolescence of Jason Anthony Grace: A Triptych Snapshot

Or, Juno Needs A Therapist But She Uses Her Diary To Talk Herself Out Of It Instead.

Rating: !Not Rated Archive Warning: !Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category: Gen Fandom: The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan Relationship: Jason Grace & Juno Characters: #Jason Grace #Juno (Percy Jackson) Additional Tags: #AU - No Powers #she's virtually her own aspect of the goddess at this point #Bad Parenting #She's trying but she underestimates her own damage #Bullying #You Won't Like Tween Jason When He's Angry #Emotional Manipulation #helicopter mom!Juno #their relationship fascinates me and I want to study her like a bug under a microscope #Epistolary #Diary/Journal #Aftermath of Violence #sometimes writing is gnawing on dysfunctional thought processes like rawhide #Jason Grace has a complicated relationship with masculinity

#i wrote this

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simhae0119 · 8 months ago

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철새

내 마음과는 철새와도 같아서

어디 한 곳 정착하질 못하니

때가 되면 떠나버리고야만다.

철새는 떠날 때가, 도착지가 정해져있기라도하지.

내 마음은 언제 떠날지도 모르고

어디로 가야할지도 모르니

철새만도 못한 가여운 마음이구나

머무를 곳 없는 가련한 아이구나

#simhae write

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bigyack-com · 3 years ago

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Navarasa Review: Netflix Anthology Makes A Fair Fist Of Delivering A Range Of Cinematic Moods

Navarasa Review: Vijay Sethupathi in a still from the anthologyCast: Suriya, Arvind Swami, Vijay Sethupathi, Siddharth, Atharvaa, Gautham, Vasudev Menon, Prasanna, Revathi, Prayaga MartinDirectors: Arvind Swami, Bejoy Nambiar, Gautham Vasudev Menon, Karthick Naren, Karthik Subbaraj, Priyadarshan, Rathindran Prasad, Sarjun, Vasanth SaiRating: 3 starsThe toughest aspect of Navarasa, a nine-film, five-hour anthology that brings together some of the brightest names of Tamil cinema, isn't its length. It is the erratic and arbitrary manner in which the nine emotions of Indian dramaturgy have been translated to the screen. But to be fair, barring an exception or two, Navarasa, streaming on Netflix, makes a fair fist of delivering a range of cinematic moods and colour palettes, if not the intended spectrum of emotions.Produced and presented by Mani Ratnam (who also contributes a story to one short and a screenplay to another) and Jayendra Panchapakesan, Navarasa was conceptualized as a means to support film industry workers impacted by the Covid-19 lockdown. None of the short films, however, factors the pandemic into its storyline. In fact, three of the films are set in the past.Two of the entries, Project Agni and Roudhram, strike a chord, one for its audacious flights of fancy, the other for its sharp delineation of place, time and people. Two others, Edhiri and Inmay, grab attention thanks both to the performances of the lead actors (Revathy and Vijay Sethupathi in the former, Parvathy Thiruvoth and Siddharth in the latter) and the emotional layering they impart to the stories.The opening film, Edhiri (Enemy), directed by Bejoy Nambiar, is about karuna (compassion). It raises hopes with a horizontally split screen opening, revealing the two principal characters, played superbly by Revathy and Vijay Sethupathi. But eventually, it isn't so much about compassion as about anger, violence, and penitence.The story of Edhiri, credited to Mani Ratnam, portrays pent-up rage and its repercussions on two people - a murderer (Sethupathi) and the wife (Revathy) of the victim (Prakash Raj in an impactful cameo). The twist is provided by the transference of the feeling of remorse from one to the other, but the shift is too sudden and too facile to pass muster.The biggest letdown in Navarasa is Priyadarshan's Summer Of `92: Hasya/Laughter. A successful Tamil cinema comedian visits his school to inaugurate its centenary celebrations and proceeds to reveal how much trouble he got into with his teachers.Navarasa Review: Suriya in still from Netflix anthologyApart from being unfunny, the film wastes two good actors - Yogi Babu, playing a version of himself, and Nedumudi Venu, in the role of a school principal looking for a match for his daughter (Ramya Nambeesan). About the only takeaway from Summer Of `92 is a dog left behind by a late Christian priest and weaned on tamarind rice from a Hindu temple. The four-legged creature leaves a quirky mark on a film that is otherwise devoid of genuine humour.Project Agni: Adbhuta/Wonder, directed by Karthick Naren, comes the closest to the emotion that it is out to evoke. The short film is at least partly a tribute to Christopher Nolan. An outlier (Arvind Swamy, who directs one of the better films of the anthology) invites a friend (Prasanna) who works at ISRO to share with him the findings of his research on the human subconscious and the origins of mankind.The researcher admits that "an obsession to see beyond our intelligence is never a good idea". But the director does not pay heed to that warning and plunges headlong into a twisted, mind-bending plot that, besides Nolan, touches upon the Mayan and Sumerian civilizations, an advanced alien race, alternate realities, past and future, Doomsday, the world of the subconscious and the notion that all human life is pre-programmed. Doesn't that sound like mumbo-jumbo? Well, it does but is delivered with delightful playfulness.The fourth film in Navarasa, Vasant S. Sai's Payasam: Bheebatsa/Disgust, invokes American poet and naturalist Diane Ackerman to assert that "disgust is danger to our soul" and then tells a story that does not quite get to the point.Set in 1965, Payasam unfolds during the wedding of a Brahmin's daughter, which is sought to be disrupted by the envious uncle (Delhi Ganesh) of the bride's father. The uncle has a widowed daughter (Aditi Balan) whose presence at her cousin's wedding is a talking point for the guests, but it is her father whose behaviour pushes things over the edge. If you are looking for the truly disgusting, Payasam isn't your bowl of dessert.Karthik Subbaraj delivers Peace: Shantih, at 28 minutes the shortest and the paciest of the nine films. The action takes place around an LTTE bunker in no man's land during the Sri Lankan civil war. A boy on the run from a village under army attack seeks help from the Tamil Tigers to rescue his brother.One of the rebels (Bobby Simha), stirred by memories of the personal losses he himself has suffered, agrees to risk his life to save another despite advice to the contrary from Master (Gautham Vasudev Menon, who has a directorial work in the mix). The film emphasizes peace even as it points to the dangers inherent in letting one's guard down.Like all the other shorts in Navarasa, debutant director Arvind Swami's Roudhram: Raudra/Anger opens with a quote. It likens "the venom of anger" to "a forest blaze that destroys everything". The film tells the story of a poor family of three - a woman (Geetha Kailasam) and her two children, a boy and a girl (Rhythvika) - whose lives spin out of control when the hot-headed son (Sreeram) strikes a man with a hammer.As the attacker is interrogated in police custody, the reason for his rage is revealed. But the film does not stop there. The social drama delivers a swift, surprise ending that alters all that has gone before. Director of photography Santosh Sivan gives the film bright splashes of colour, which provide a contrast to the bleakness of the lives portrayed. A.R. Rahman's music is an apt embellishment for the soundtrack of Roudhram.Rathindran R. Prasad falls back on Rumi - "What is fear? Non-acceptance of uncertainty" - and a musical score by Vishal Bhardwaj as he puts together Inmay (Devoid of): Bhaya/Fear, an intriguing vengeance saga that straddles fear, misgivings and horror in the same sweep.The two actors who flesh out the key characters - Siddharth and Parvathy Thiruvoth - throw all their skills into this story set in a swish, aesthetically designed Puducherry bungalow in which a male visitor and the mistress of the house discuss calligraphy and Islamic art. But under the calm surface of their conversation is a volcano waiting to erupt.Navarasa Review: Siddharth in still from Netflix anthologyThe director skillfully couches this story of great violence and surprise revelations in a beautiful bubble that bursts in face of pinpricks of a troubled past that ties the man's fate to that of the woman.The penultimate film, Sarjun KM's Thunintha Pin (Beyond Courage): Veera, is scripted by Mani Ratnam. It examines the definition of valour from the standpoint of a new police recruit (Atharva) who, within a week of finishing his combat training, is caught in a jungle ambush by Naxalites that leaves many men in his division dead.The young man is charged with the task of driving a wounded Naxalite leader (Kishore) back to the police station on the edge of the forest. It is a make-or-break chance for him to prove his mettle. Does he have it in? The rookie will discover soon enough, but the film leaves his pregnant wife (Anjali) in the lurch after allowing her a couple of scenes to assert her own brand of courage rooted in unwavering stoicism.The last film in the anthology, Guitar Kambi Mele Nindru (Tugging at My Guitar Strings): Sringara/Love, is Gautham Vasudev Menon's ode to amour. A 32-year-old Chennai singer (Suriya) lives with his mother (Tulasi) and dreams of leaving for London to become a world music composer and performer.He is about to jet off when he meets Nethra (Prayaga Rose Martin), a younger crooner who steps into his studio to record a song. The laws of attraction kick in and the man's plans go out the window in a flash. Having found his Muse and with love taking roots in his heart, the musician goes all out rediscover his voice.The actors look good and the director, as is his wont, crafts pretty frames, but the writing falls a bit by the wayside. The manner in which the film delves into the blossoming of love is undermined by the cliches of the genre.Navarasa is an uneven, bewildering welter: two are pretty good, two others are passable, and the rest are patchy. Avoid binge watching. Too exhausting. Space it out: watch two or three at a time. Read the full article

#Anthology #Cinematic #Delivering #Fair #Fist #moods #Navarasa #Netflix #Range #Review

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sapropel · 5 years ago

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OKAY SO I was very smitten by this little poem so I looked it up (it was not easy to find this poem). Turns out that al-Harizi DIDN'T write this poem (or at least in Tahkemoni he claims this).

In Tahkemoni, al-Harizi claimed that a Babylonian had written this poem, and that the poem was perverse and disgusting. The exact details vary from translation to translation. One translation (by David Simha Segal) attempts to portray the disgust of al-Harizi and maintain a rhyme scheme:

"An Adinite jackass of singular sensibility penned the following imbecility:

'Had Moses seen my neighbour's cheeks / none other can surpass / he had writ not in his Torah / Do not covet thy neighbour's ass.'

In a rage, I seized this miscreant's pen and ... berated him and excommunicated him" (402-403).

Two other scholars (The Dream of the Poem: Hebrew Poetry from Muslim and Christian Spain, 950-1492 by Peter Cole, Arabic and Hebrew Love Poems in Al-Andalus by Shari Lowin) also corroborate this, though their translations are a bit more beautiful and less crude. Cole points out that pretending you found a poem from someone else but actually wrote it yourself may have been a poetic trope at the time (473), and al-Harizi may have written the poem just to pretend to be mad about it. Quite literally the "imagine things and get mad about them" kind of guy.

Lowin's translation is as follows:

"If only the son of Amram [Moses] had seen my beloved's face, / Flushed from having drunk wine, / And the beauty of his curls, and the glory of his handsomeness, / He would not have ruled in his Torah 'and with a male' "(89).

I wonder if al-Harizi could have imagined at the time that his frankly homophobic depiction of perversion and debauchery would come to read as a beautiful gay love poem almost a thousand years later.

There's something else beautiful here though: Lowin's analysis of the poem follows another poem from Ibn Hazm's Tawq (as "if only you had seen my beloved" may have been another trope). The poem is about Ibn Hazm's love, whose beauty and loveliness is so great he brings water to the parched earth. He pines for his separated love, and his friends try to talk him out of his infatuation. Per Nykl's translation:

"They criticize me harshly on account of the traces of his feet. / If they knew, the one who blamed me would become envious of me! / Oh people of the land where the clouds are not liberal with water, / Take my advice and you will become free, and you will be thankful: / Take some of the dust in which his footprints are impressed, / And I guarantee that drought will be far removed from you, / For every bit of dust upon which his foot has tread / Is good soil, it cannot be denied! .../ Blessed is the land in which [he] is dwelling, / And blessed are those who dwell in it, and happiness has descended upon it! / Hence its stones are pearls, and its thistles roses, / And its waters are honey, and its dust ambergris!"

also thinking about this like gay sephardic poet from like the 13th century who wrote that moses would not have written down the laws against being gay if he had seen how beautiful his lovers face was and im like god the layers the romance the religious emotions..

#j tag #i spent over an hour on this instead of my homework #ours #poetry

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musicarenagh · 2 years ago

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Join Zero Carbon Effect On 'The Great Rewilding' To Make The World A Better Place You wouldn’t believe me if I say this is the first time the quartet Zero Carbon Band (ZCB) entered a recording studio to record a song, yet their debut EP “The Great Rewilding” says otherwise, it sounds nothing like newbies, because they are used to live set. When SI-Fi, Benjamin Simha, Rat Thunder, and Nic combine their musical powers the quartet morphs into Zero Carbon Band (ZCB), and The Great Rewilding is an end product of the band's hard work and determination. Listening to the EP you can literally taste the band the sweat and the effort which had to go into creating this sound. The Great Rewilding has a total of 5 songs It was recorded at the Brook Studio in Wallington., with mind-boggling lyrics the band aims at making significant changes in our ecosystem. Zero Carbon Band (ZCB) is the world’s only premiership Eco-pop band, writing unique original Indie/funk Eco-pop and they chuck in the odd upcycled eco-worded tune for a live set. The songs are unique and refreshing they are strict on making the world a better place by drawing attention to the trees surrounding us, the sea, and other contributing factor to bettering the earth. Members of the Zero Carbon Band are: Si-Fi - lead guitar and backing vocals Benjamin Simha - lead vocals, acoustic guitar Rat Thunder - drums and other percussion, backing vocals, harmonica Nic - bass, flute Tracklist I’m a Tree Sinking Seasick Homesick Blues The Great Rewilding Commotion in the Ocean Listen to The Great Rewilding https://open.spotify.com/album/6LhybZntVLhxr0LQmoA81E Follow Zero Carbon Band Instagram Facebook Spotify

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hrk4 · 4 years ago

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The year that was...

Dear Friends:

Season’s Greetings!

In the celebrated Yaksha-prashna episode of the Mahābhārata, responding to one of Yaksha’s questions Yudhishtira says,

Day after day, countless beings are going to the abode of death; yet those that remain desire to live forever! What can be a greater wonder than that?

2020 served as a grisly commentary to this famous utterance.

Year after year sees birth and death, with the former always surpassing the latter. While the birth of a child causes joy to a small group of people, the death of a person can cause sorrow to millions. 2020 was a ghastly experience for me with regard to death: several individuals who influenced me either directly or indirectly passed away and in my own case, I felt death’s knock on my door—albeit for brief moments—during an irksome bout of tuberculosis that lasted a couple of months.

Some eminent personages—all renowned in their own fields—that I had the good fortune of meeting, engaging in discussions, or collaborating with over the years breathed their last in 2020 – Dr. V Prasanna Bhat (a finance/management whiz and close friend of my father whose cerebral approach to life and meticulousness influenced me in many ways), Subramaniam Chittur (entrepreneur, Rotarian, communications expert, and the man who brought Toastmasters International to India – an organization that proved transformational for me as early as during my high school days), Ranjon Ghoshal (renowned actor/director who was my guide in the world of theatre and a consummate conversationalist with whom I have discussed themes ranging from the Vedas to folk music, from Bengali literature to stage lighting, from advertising to colonial history), Ivry Gitlis (world-famous violinist whose masterclass I was lucky to attend when he visited Bangalore in 2005), Pt. Jasraj (renowned Hindustani singer with a golden voice whom I had the fortune of meeting when he performed with my guru Dr. L Subramaniam during the LGMF), Prof. Roddam Narasimha (one of India’s foremost scientists whom I was fortunate to have interacted with on three occasions, thanks to his nephew and my college classmate Varun Prakash; the eclectic mix of physics, philosophy, ancient Indian science, and Sanskrit that formed the mainstay of all my interactions with him always proved inspirational to me), and Dr. Gayatri Rajapur (an extraordinary musicologist and gottuvadyam exponent who I first met through her disciple and my friend Vinay Kumar, and later got the opportunity to interact on many occasions during the academic committee meetings of the LGCE; I always marvelled at her deep erudition, immense patience, and clear exposition).

2020 also saw the death of famous personalities who influenced me in some way or the other although I never met them: S P Balasubrahmanyam (playback singer, actor, and TV anchor), Basu Chatterjee (filmmaker and screenwriter), Soumitra Chatterjee (actor, playwright, and poet), Sir Sean Connery (actor), Irrfan Khan (actor), Prof. T N Krishnan (violinist), James Lipton (actor, writer, and dean emeritus of the Actors Studio Drama School), Diego Maradona (football legend), Ennio Moricone (music composer), James Randi (conjurer, rationalist, and activist), Sir Ken Robinson (author and educationist), Sankar (artist and painter, renowned for his sketches in the Chandamama monthly including the iconic painting of Vikram and Betal), et al.

Some of the memorable episodes from the BC (Before Corona) days include my debut as a pṛcchaka (in the saṅkhyā-bandha division) in an Avadhāna of Śatāvadhāni Dr. R Ganesh; a trip with my mother to Sosale, our ancestral village; a weekend getaway with friends from my study group; editing/designing the seminal work Prekṣaṇīyam; attending the day-long dance conference Tha-Dheem that included speakers such as Dr. Padma Subrahmanyam, Śatāvadhāni Dr. R Ganesh, Saroj Khan, Rajiv Menon, Nirupama Rajendra, Dr. Rajkumar Bharathi, Praveen D Rao, and Pravin Godkhindi; and participating in Madanothsava, a 1,600-year-old community festival of spring recreated by Nirupama and Rajendra of the Abhinava Dance Company.

The multiple lockdowns in 2020 gave me the opportunity to pursue my activities with greater focus and solitude. On the day of Yugadi (March 25) I started reading the Mahābhārata in the original Sanskrit along with my good friend Arjun Bharadwaj; in the early days, we met up online twice or thrice a week and discussed the chapters we read (he was always ahead of me, thus giving me the much-needed impetus to move forward!) I edited and designed a new version of Ram Gopal Misra’s 1983 classic Indian Resistance to Early Muslim Invaders up to 1206 A.D. (which was published in October). In collaboration with my friends G S Raghavendra and Srishan Thirumalai, I worked on a modern translation of selected verses from Lilashuka’s Śrīkṛṣṇakarṇāmṛtam (which is still in progress). I spent a lot of time practising the violin. The various study groups that I am a part of also saw an upward trend with regular online sessions; while we missed the leisure and the human connection offered by in-person sessions, we were able to save travel time and also accomplish more in the same one hour allocated to the study.

During the later part of May, I contracted a fever that simply wouldn’t go away. Forty-two days without a break it persisted. Pyrexia of Unknown Origin they called it. Following a battery of tests and much speculation by medical experts from diverse disciplines I was diagnosed with tuberculosis of the lymph node. The two months of June and July were largely spent in bed, totally disconnected from all my activities. I sailed through, thanks to the good counsel of my doctors (Dr. Alaka Acharya, Dr. Amar P, and Dr. G L Krishna) and perhaps more importantly, the long-standing support from my parents and my friends. I neither deserved nor desired the unconditional love and affection that I was showered with. I really don’t know how to account for the selflessness of my family and the generosity of my friends. It is a debt that is impossible to repay. And uttering any words of gratitude will only expose my ineptitude.

In 2020, I had the opportunity to speak on a few topics to diverse groups (young professionals, dance students, interns working in the back office of a politician), write a few essays (including one in Kannada, my first), restart my sketching journey, and work on editing/designing a few books (revised edition of Studies in Ancient Tamil Law and Society by Dr. R Nagaswamy and A Tapestry of Pen-portraits by S R Ramaswamy).

I also recall with great fondness the many illuminating conversations I had in 2020 – on music (with my guru Dr. L Subramaniam and with my friends Vivekananda, Ranjani Vasuki, and Kashyap Naik), on Sanskrit literature (with G S Raghavendra, Srishan Thirumalai, and Sudheer Krishnaswami), on multiple subjects related to India and Indian culture (with Dr. S R Ramaswamy, Śatāvadhāni Dr. R Ganesh, Vasuki H A, Vighneshwar Bhat, Arjun Bharadwaj, and Jayasimha K R), on writing and literature (with Prof. L V Shanthakumari, Chandra Shekhar, Sarita Talwai, and Bhumika Anand), on art and artistry (with Nirupama, Rajendra, Sagar Mehta, and Somashekhara Sharma), on politics and society (with Cedric Blair, Karthik Rao, Shankar Venkataraman, Showri H R, Shreesha Karantha, and Vikram Phadke), on history and education (with Dr. R Nagaswamy, Dr. M D Srinivas, Sripriya Srinivasan, and the Samvit team), and a variety of topics (with my family and my friends including Aditya Jeurkar, Chandrashekhar K S, Hrishikesh M K, Pratap Simha, and Srikanteswara).

My father turned seventy in 2020 and to coincide with what he terms ‘fifty years of adulthood,’ he brought out his autobiography Doing Well, Feeling Happy, which is really a book about work-life balance and handling crisis with equanimity. He also happened to put together a small book about the amazing human body, a result of his online research, while he was trying to understand the cause for my prolonged fever. Incidentally, during my convalescence period, I wrote a short piece on the Bhaja Govindam, which was also published as a booklet along with the other two works.

I spent the last few days of 2020 with my friends and their family in the sylvan surroundings at Rishikesh, Devaprayag, Lakshman Jhula, etc. The two highlights of the trip were meditating in Vasishta Guha on December 31st evening and white-water rafting on the Ganga on the first day of 2021. To me they represent the serenity and satisfaction one must experience during the conclusion (of a day or a week) and the enthusiasm and energy one should feel during the commencement (of a new day or week).

As for 2021, I have a few plans in terms of what I wish to accomplish and how I should proceed towards my chosen goals. Having broken down the process into weekly targets, I’m going to share that with a few friends so that they will—hopefully—constantly remind me about my shortcomings. I hope to practice the violin 18 hours a week, read 100 books (having bought a Kindle as a Dasara gift), drastically cut down on sugar, sketch occasionally, considerably reduce screen time (both on my mobile and computer), and learn to live more simply with better health and greater empathy. These are all aspirations at present; let’s see how they go as the year progresses :)

Wishing you and your family a joy-filled, healthy, and prosperous new year!

Cheers, Hari PS: Here is a podcast I recorded (in conversation with Mowna Ramachandra) about the musical creations of my guru, Dr. L Subramaniam.

#memoirs #newyear

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