#urdu recipes

[cookwithfaiza]

One Cup Quiche Recipe || Perfect Recipe for Iftar in Urdu Hindi

[gkonboard]

Delicious Homemade Falafel Recipe: A Middle Eastern Delight! சத்தான ரெசிபி செம ஈஸி

[cookingwithrukhsana]

How to Make Pancakes at Home | Easy Pancake Recipe by cookingwithRukhsana

[soleilnewspaper]

James Fleamont Potter 𐂂 °⋆.

A collection of headcannons about Bambi :)

 𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴:

"Summer Night City - ABBA" 

01:27 ━━●──────  03:34

            ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻    

Dividers: @the scandalorian

Remus version

Background 𖤓°⋆

His mother Euphemia, affectionately known as Effie came from a large wizarding family in Pakistan, born the youngest daughter of seven. During her later years at Hogwarts, she began working under the matron as an apprentice which aided her in securing a job as a healer of the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's after Hogwarts.

His father, Fleamont was born into a wealthy yet small wizarding family, growing up as an only child. Fleamont achieved excellent grades for his O.W.LS giving him the opportunity to many career options however he decided to explore his love for potions. Using his family heritage, Fleamont brought a shop in Diagon Alley and began his potions business straight out of Hogwarts.

The two both attended Hogwarts but didn’t meet until after they had both graduated due to their age gap. Fleamont had accidently injured himself while trying out one of his new potion recipes and Euphemia, a newly employed healer had taken the night shift. He fell in love with the way she carried herself and waited patiently until her shift was over to take her out for a coffee.

Fleamont and Effie despite both originating from pureblood wizarding families they actively stood up for both muggle born and muggle rights in the Wizarding World. Alongside this they further took on activism by advocating for the well treatment of magical creatures.

Both of Jame’s parents shared aspirations for having multiple children. Euphemia having come from a large family combined with Fleamont's own wishes for siblings as an only child, lead them to want multiple children. However, the couple struggled for years to finally fall pregnant in Effie’s 50s and Fleamont’s 60s. They had assumed they were unable to have children but then they were given a miracle. His birth was difficult and left Euphemia barren and had an extended recovering period.

Despite this James was still their miracle so they decided to pour all their love into him and spoiled him rotten.

James was raised to treat everyone with kindness and respect. His mother taught him how to be a gentleman which made her often scold him when she heard about his patronising of Lily in his early Hogwarts Years.  

His love of Quidditch comes from his mother as she played on the Gryffindor team throughout her Hogwarts Years. From a young age, his mother had him on a broom soaring through the sky.

James would play in the meadow near his house during the spring and bring flowers for his mother which she liked to press and would often make bookmarks with her dried flowers. Euphemia kept every gift that James had made her. James didn’t learn this until after his parents had died and he was cleaning up their house with the marauders.

Fleamont used to take James to his potions store when he was younger because James loved watching his father work.

James is a mama’s boy through and through. 

Even in his teen years if James has a nightmare while at home he will cry into mother’s shoulder. She will comfort him the same way she did when he was a little boy.

James grew up as a bilingual child speaking both Urdu and English in his household. Due to this, like many bilingual children, his speech was delayed. Both his parents cried when he said his first word because they had been worried about his delayed communication milestones. As a toddler he would mix up the two languages confusing his father and Euphemia had to translate for him.

However, after starting Hogwarts he was surrounded by English, majority British, so he spoke less of his mother’s tongue resulting in him forgetting some of it. Every few summers he tells himself he’ll learn urdu properly, and every few summers, he forgets about this resolution entirely. After Euphemia died he relearned the language in time for her funeral.

Bollywood movies and dvds were a staple in the Potter house.

Fleamont liked to watch old dvds for nostalgia’s sake, and as a result, James grew up watching them as well.

Physical Appearance 𖤓°⋆

His big growth spurt in maturity happened after winter break of 5th year.

Sirius and him are practically the same height, with only an inch or two difference.

His skin takes on a wheatish tone, his skin almost like the sun radiates. Manifesting the colour tone from yellow to light brown with warm undertones.

James’s eyes are the type of eyes which make you feel safe and warm inside.

Possesses comforting brown iries like the colour of aged roots alongside the green of the springtime bubs make his eyes resemble a hazel tree. The hues of green in his eyes remind him of his time spent in his childhood running on the forest floor among gentle flowers.

He has a prominent Adam’s apple.

Curls adorn his face in a shade of black with hues of brown adding a natural highlight to his hair.

According to cannon

“James was a tall, thin man who wore glasses, with hazel eyes and untidy black hair that stuck up at the back.” 

Personality 𖤓°⋆

Constantly ruffing or running his hands through his hair.

This leads to the neglecting of making sure he was keeping his glasses on securely while flying, and they'd fall off.

James can and will sleep through almost anything.

Much to the annoyance of the maunders, James is a very loud snorer.

More often than most you will find Prongs happily eating leaves and grass on full moons.

James was so in love with Lily he never bothered to plan what to do if she ever accepted his offer. So, when she did, he became a stuttering mess.

He was incredibly smart but at the same time the token dumbass

Something changed in James when his beaten and bruised brother walked into his home on that rainy Christmas Eve.

When he returned to school the following term everyone thought he was trying to impress Lily after she called him ‘an arrogant wanker’. In truth he had changed for Sirius’s sake.

Nothing comes before his friends

This man is the most loving one you will ever meet

Not only that but he loved hard and deeply, more so than anyone

James is very much a mother-hen. The marauders cannot avoid his fussing, making sure they’re alright well-fed and watered. Almost like they’re his houseplants.

Fleamont drilled tidy habits into Jame’s mind leaving him somewhat of a neat freak. Every month he’s doing deep cleaning because of the dirtiness of sharing a room with three other teenage boys.

Personal space does not exist, he is extremely touchy. It's his love language.

On the surface he likes to pretend everything comes easy to him but secretly he still must work hard to get good grades even if it’s at the last minute. He thinks it makes him cooler if he keeps a certain level of nonchalance but 50% of the time, he’s faking it till he makes it. 

 He feels everything deeply. When he loves, it’s like a tidal wave of emotion, he feels like he would go to the moon for the person. 

Notes and Trivia 𖤓°⋆

His boggart is each of his friends crying alone, his biggest fear was not being able to help the people he loves when they need him most 

Before Sirius and Remus start dating, James would carry Remus to the hospital wing after particularly rough full moons

All snuggles are initiated by him

He holds Remus’s hand after a rough moon

He’s the matchmaker of Hogwarts

Jumped at the chance to spend time with Lily when she asked him to help her get Dorcas and Marlene together

Tried to call Sirius snuffles before they came up with padfoot 

He knows Lily’s cycle better than she does

So, when that time of the month comes, he’s the most dotting boyfriend you ever did see

Surprise hugs are his speciality

He is the best transfiguration student that McGonagall ever taught 

He ruffles his friend’s hair,

kisses them on the check, and holds their hands to make them smile or when they’re upset

His father gifted him a calligraphy set for his fourteenth birthday which was the start of his love for writing letters

James always has his camera with him and has collections dedicated to all his friends

He is also a mother-hen with the younger Gryffindor students especially when he’s head boy.

He felt lonely growing up as an only child, but his wish was fulfilled when his parents practically adopted Sirius.

@h3arts4strs This is for you babes >3

[starlightshadowsworld]

Characters I headcanon as Pakistani because I am Pakistani.

Jason and Thalia Grace.

Beryl was on popular Pakistani Dramas in her hay day and made sure both her kids were fluent in Urdu.

Jason ended up forgetting it when he was taken by Lupa who spoke to him in Latin. And then Camp Jupiter demanded he speak English.

But then he lost his memories and could only speak his mother tongue. And only Thalia, Annabeth and Grover could understand him. Urdu was Thalia’s first language too. She knows enough English to get by and can’t be arsed learning any more.

Annabeth because she demanded Thalia teach her and began doing her own learning. And Grover because he’s Indian in the to series and I head canon speaks Hindi, which is very similar to Urdu.

Steve Harrington.

Parents tried to assimilate and outside the home just try and hide their heritage. His grandparents spoke to him in Urdu as a child but he didn’t retain much of it. Definitely had a “wish I was white” phase (and probably had fair and lovely pushed on him as child.)

As he began to grow and accept himself, he desperately tried to reach his roots. Got in touch with his grandparents again and began to heal.

Ain’t no Farah Fawcett here we be oiling that hair. Cooks recipes his grandmother used to make him (which the kids demand more of once they get a taste.) Re-learning Urdu with his grandparents and Robin.

He’s done the kurta over jeans look.

(Probably very much watched over by Lucas’s parents after they find out because he’s one of the only other people of colour in this white ass town.)

2012 Casey Jones.

Grew up in New York with an American father and Pakistani mother. Even after her mysterious death he’s still beloved by his family and goes to all the events.

He’s the cool cousin.

He’s always had a deep love for his culture and his city. And always been unapologetically himself no matter what. He has won over Splinter with karak (desi) tea. Has also definitely worn a kurta over jeans and trainers.

Bought mithai as an apology gift after bringing a footbot to the turtles lair and became Mikey’s best friend.

Blake Belladonna

Loved her culture, her home still ran off with a white man Blake tried to leave it all behind and assimilate to life in Vale. But she never felt like she belonged, but also believed she’d changed too much to belong back home.

But as she grew to accept herself and all that made her Blake Belladonna, that feeling begin to lessen. It’s still there, but maybe she can exist in two worlds instead of one. She shares stories with her friends, practices and teaches them (particularly Weiss) her mother tongue and traditions.

And they embrace her just like they always will.

Ozma

He assimilates to each new life but he’s still him under it all. It’s under lock and key, who he was but in the quiet moments he shares those little things. He’s not a fan off tea, he drinks only coffee and yet there’s a certain pink tea that he will always accept.

He and Salem smh ran off with a white woman had a grand wedding, there were no attendants but they more than made up for it. His girls all had bangles around their wrists and there was a once a time where wrapping them in his mother’s dupatta was the most magical thing of them all.

He’d leave a plate off apple slices in their rooms and smile as they happily ate them. The old men at the market would gently pat him on the head when they meet. Some of them still do, as if they know and maybe they do.

Things from the past hurt so much now, and yet he loves them.

[kitchenbudge7]

Homemade Ice Cream Kulfa kulfa ice cream recipe,homemade kulfa recipe,ice cream,kulfa ice cream,homemade ice cream recipe,homemade kulfi recipe,homemade ice cream,homemade kulfa,kulfa recipe,ice cream recipe,homemade kulfa ice cream,kulfi ice cream,how to make kulfa ice cream at home,kulfi recipe,kulfa icecream,kulfa,how to make kulfa,malai kulfi recipe,homemade vanilla ice cream recipe,easy ice cream recipe,kulfi,bread ice cream recipe,kulfa ice cream recipe in urdu

[sew-much-to-do]

DIY Pakistani Zucchini (Courgette) Curry

The original Zucchini Curry recipe adored by thousands! 12 simple ingredients are all you need to transform boring zucchini into this flavorful Indian & Pakistani-style Zucchini (Courgette) Curry, called Toriyan or ‘torai ki sabzi’ in Urdu. This is an easy, one-pot vegan curry recipe that will have you (and even your kids!) loving zucchini.

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

sew-much-to-do: a visual collection of sewing tutorials/patterns, knitting, diy, crafts, recipes, etc.

[tammyfeabakker]

Budget Friendly Healthy & Light Nashta Recipe in Urdu Hindi - RKK

[sayyourprayers]

5 7 23

5. Marathi

5. Hindi

5. Punjabi (native to my country but not a language I speak and my forever favourite song)

7. (Marathi)

कवडसे (kuh-vuh-duh-say): rays (☀️) coming in through slits or gaps

(Hindi/Urdu)

ख़िज़ाँ (khizaan) : autumn, fall

(Sanskrit)

स्वाहा (swaa-haa) : it's used at the end of a mantra usually when an offering is made. It's also used in the phrasal form to denote sacrificing or burning or depleting something.

23. Rum and whisky. I recommend army issue Old Monk. My poison. There's also something called 'desi tharra' that's cheap and consumed by many and has varied recipes and may or may not end up in causing a person's (yours or whoever you end up brawling with) death.

[purplesimmer455]

Piper and Cam sat and talked at the dining room table. They goofed around before talking about their families and cultures.

Cam: So, you speak Urdu at home with your mom, right?

Piper: Yup, my mom taught me and Hamuera because her mom, my nana Maya, taught her, and she wanted to continue the tradition and be as connected to our culture as we can.

Cam: (nodding) I understand, my parents want me and Cece to be close to our culture, so they taught us Korean first*, then Simlish, as well as our family recipes and traditions. (smiling) Can you say something in Urdu?

Piper: (blushing) Main Tumko pyaar karti hoon** aur Tum bauhat khoobsurat haun.

Cam: What does that mean?

Piper: I love you, and you are very beautiful/handsome. (Cam smiles).

Cam: I love you too, Pipes, and thanks. (Piper blushes but grins at Cam).

Piper: I think when I’m older and have kids, I want to teach them Urdu too, as well as the language the other parent speaks. I wish I knew Sulanian, Cantonese, Italian and Greek too, but Urdu works. (Piper is part Greek, Pakistani, Chinese, Italian, Bahamian, and Sulanian).

Cam: (smiling) That’s okay, we’ll teach our future kids Urdu and Korean both. (Teasingly) I’m assuming you meant the other future parent is me.

Piper: (grinning) Yeah, I just didn’t want to freak you out by talking about kids so soon. I know we’re only teens and that’s years away, but I want that with you, Cammy, when the time is right.

Cam: I want that too, Pipes. When we're maybe 28 and after we've done some traveling and spent time just with the two of us. (Piper nods).

Truthfully, Cam had thought about having kids with Piper too. She wanted two kids as well, when she was older of course. She was also having embarrassing thoughts pop into her head of how their kids would look like, maybe with Piper’s curly hair and Cam’s nose and eyes, and how they might go after her or Piper.

[shamelessshepherd]

Chai recipe 1

[blogsinurdu]

Blogs In Urdu

Best website for Viral Urdu Poetry, Urdu Stories, Urdu Articles, Urdu Shayari, Urdu Poetry 2 lines, Stories in Urdu, Recipes in Urdu, and Health Tips in Urdu.

[cookwithfaiza]

Spicy Chicken Subway Sandwich at Home | Easy Subway-Style Recipe in Urdu | Hindi

[skiddo-xy]

Went over the most awkward Urdu written work I have ever written with my tutor just now which was my homework which was translating the technical vocabulary-heavy apple pie recipe which I used a couple of weeks ago for Thanksgiving. I used my dad's Urdu-English dictionary which apparently is like super filled with archaic/literary words which would either have a more simpler Urdu equivalent or just the English word. Also my teacher and I sort of have different conceptions of Roman Urdu which makes things complicated sometimes lol. But anyways good thing that's over with.

[dailyilm]

Khawateen Digest Online Reading August 2024 Urdu PDF Download

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[elabuelazo]

the mango tree, the mango cart, and me

By Seema

in another life, I would have liked to own a fruit cart. I imagine that I’m standing behind my fruit cart on a casually busy road in Hyderabad. I set up early, so the people with morning shifts and the mothers with a full day of caretaking could pick up a bag of mangos or a bag of… actually, I change my mind. I would like to own a mango cart – only mangos sold here.

in this life, I know the patterns and complexities of a growing mango tree and I know what it needs to flourish. I watch the skies to make sure there aren’t too many cloudy days – this tree needs an abundance of sunlight to grow the sweetest, most fragrant mangos. I curiously study the earth and her labors, and I tend to the soil. occasionally, I collect a fallen mango leaf or two and gently preserve them between the pages of a book. 

I go to the mango tree on days the world feels heavy and lean my back against its sturdy trunk. I take deep breaths of relief under its inviting shade. I feel the most at home under a tree, especially this one. not only are we each other’s caretakers, this tree connects me to the people I belong to. I may not know much about Ammi Jaan, my maternal grandmother, but she certainly once reveled in the sweetness of a perfectly ripe mango. I know that she would have taught me to become familiar with the unmistakable scent of a good mango. 

this tree and the fruits of its labor remind me of love, particularly in the form of freshly cut fruit. I think about all of the times a bowl of sliced mango was placed in front of a sulking daughter or grieving father as an inaudible apology or a sincere offering of love. I am reminded of the joy and excitement of standing in the kitchen, looking up at your mom as she peels and cuts a mango, patiently waiting for her to hand you the gutli, the pit. holding the gutli with two small hands and savoring the remnants of the mango felt like being chosen for a high honor – especially when you have siblings. 

anyway, the mango tree gives me the solace I need, and I get back on my feet and I go on. I patiently wait for the harvest season to begin and I quietly worry about choosing just the right time to pluck the fruit off its branches. when the time comes to harvest, I carefully audit the mangos – I want to make sure they are of a certain quality. I hope that my customers come to trust my mangos – maybe if they trust the mangos, they’ll trust me. 

eventually, I am ready to offer my mangoes to the people walking by on this medium-busy road in Hyderabad. I speak to my customers in many tongues – Urdu, Hindi, Telugu, Punjabi, even the occasional Farsi. I surrender with ease when someone drives a hard bargain for a bag of mangos, and I am thankful when someone tells me to keep the change. I nod respectfully when elders complain about how different the world is now, I patiently help kids become familiar with that unmistakable scent, and I regularly exchange recipes and local gossip with other women. 

I ask people how they are and they ask me how I am – we may not always give each other long answers, but they’re always honest. when the line at my mango cart dwindles, I watch people walk by. I notice the colors of their clothes and wonder what kind of urgency they’re managing today. I keep bandaids with me for the kids that scrape their knees, and I keep two folding chairs and a small table in the shade of my cart — for those who need some solace and perhaps a bowl of sliced mango. when it’s time to close up my cart for the day, I savor the sweetness of my people and hope that I did some good today. 

I go home to people who love mangos just as much as I do. I go home to a house that is supported by the mango tree and the mango cart, and it’s just enough. I sit in the angan, the courtyard, of my house with a cup of chai and the worries of the world begin to weigh on me again – I let them linger, but I don’t allow them to overstay. I breathe deeply, just like I do when I sit under the mango tree, and I listen for the sounds of living. 

I hear a group of kids playing outside the front gate, I hear the clang of pots in the kitchen, I hear the azan, the call to prayer, for Maghrib from the masjid down the road, I hear someone I love call for me from another room. the worries wash away as I am reminded that I have everything I need. I am reminded that the mango tree and the mango cart sustain me, and the urgency to live a different kind of life fades. when my head hits the pillow, I sleep just like I live – peacefully.