#desi tag
niche things I love about Indian culture
(Besides the awesome fashion, food, mythology, architecture, music, and philosophies)
-in Hindi, “ladies and gentlemen” is “goddesses and gentlemen” (देवियों और सज्जनो)
-how you measure age by how many monsoons you’ve seen (“he is of 10 monsoons”)
-good morning WhatsApp forwards. Yes, this is a controversial one. I just think it’s cute as hell
-how 2 Indians can each know like 4 languages but still not be able to communicate with each other because they don’t share a single common one
-men wearing lots of jewellery especially gold hoop earrings
-nose rings (I got mine when I was a kid WITH my parents’ approval)
-the fact that Indian English uses so many archaic words and terms. And also so many terms that sound like they’re from the year 2050 (like “biodata” for resume)
-“where should I put this?” “On my head.”
-the expression “sucking my blood” in Punjabi when someone is annoying you. “Stop sucking my blood,” “He’s really sucking my blood.” Also “He’s eating my brain” in Hindi is a good one too
-how shop owners serve you food and chai and how the men drape saris over themselves to model them for you
-impromptu poetry sessions (“वह क्या बात है!”)
-there’s a reason so many animes are inspired by Hinduism and Buddhism. The original spirit bombs and other magical energy weapons were in the mahabharat lol
-really off the wall units of measurement. Lakh makes perfect sense. Crore makes a bit of sense. But why is a mahakalpa 311,040,000,000,000 years. Why does an akshauhini consist of 21,870 chariots; 21,870 elephants; 65,610 horses and 109,350 infantry. That is so specific
-the fact that no one’s gonna top the party we’re gonna throw when the queen dies
kk sang “aankhon mein teri ajab si ajab si adayein hain, dil ko banade jo patang saansein teri woh hawayein hain” and my life has not been the same since
The bollywood urge to call your lover your god and your religion
Sometimes I forget that Doraemon is not actually a desi cartoon.
the day gay marriage gets legalised in India I’m literally not going to believe it I’ll probably say something like oh lol k nice try and go back to like crocheting blorbo 87 or smth
srk starring in a rajkumar hirani film i always win
I don’t know since when the sadness is living
In the lonely house of my heart
مرے دل کے اکیلے گھر میں راحتؔ
اداسی جانے کب سے رہ رہی ہے
ISTG all the countries of the Indian subcontinent would be besties if they were headed by Desi Tumblrinas
Oh to be the only daughter of the rich scholarly couple from 50’s India, driving a Morris Oxford to University, speaking fluent Hindi, Urdu, Bangla, English and French, lounging in my summer cottage in Shimla, going shopping with Anglo-Indian friends in the local market, either being the subject of envy or disdain of other women, smoking a cigg from my pearl studded gold case that was a gift to daddy from some royalty with one of my many flings, flying off to Paris for vacations, attending meetings with the top leaders and not giving a fuck about getting married because daddy’s rich enough to buy me a trophy husband. All this while clad in elegant yet sexy chiffon saree.
the line “mera chain vain sab ujda” isn’t just a song lyric anymore
i had goals and now i am a useless brain fucked anxious kid who sob, cry, weep, shed tears, wail, bawl, snivel, grieve, mourn, tear up every hour of the day
For all my desi royalty core fans who are yet to read my book, here’s me sharing it’s playlist to convince you.
Who will hold my hand and tell me it’s warm, as opposed to my heart, which is cold?
desi girls who were tomboys in their teen years grew up and realised they were queer this whole time
I wanna be rich enough to be able to feed every street dog I come across without giving a f*ck
life mostly sucks but you still have dogs to pet, books to read and art to make.
It’s always I’m blessed to have you, never “tum mujhe kisi neki ke badle mili ho, kisi sachhe dil se nikli hui dua ke badle”.
“The river ebbed at her feet.
A stream of waterfall cascaded from the stygian valley of her hair.
The droplets teetering at the edge of her sharp collar bones before abandoning the contours of her body to form a commune with the ripples that flowed around her in wordless whispers.
It was as if the water carried secrets that could quench her dessicated mind but chose to torture her anyway, chose to show her no mercy.
Instead it mocked her with the illusion of reverence, the echo of the sky above kneeling in faithless worship.”
- An excerpt from my book on wattpad
Please support your dysfunctional desi wattpad writer
I’m going through my Hindi songs playlist and I just remembered a parody of Kuch Kuch Hota Hai that my friend told me way back in sixth grade that her older sister had made
Test paas aaye
Dil ghabraye
Teacher ne na jaane kya paper sajaaye
Ab toh mera pen ruk ruk ke chalta hai
Kya karoon haye kuch kuch hota hai
I don’t know if her sister had actually made this or if she had found this somewhere else but this made me so nostalgic. Just leaving this here for the desi peeps
OK but like b e w a r e of diaspora Hindutva trying to use American social justice terminology to drive their agenda forward.
#IF THEY START WHINGING ABOUT HOW THE ARYAN INVASION THEORY IS A BRITISH CONSPIRACY #IF THEY SAY INDIA’S COLONIZATION BEGAN WITH THE MUGHALS AND CONSIDER MUGHALS THE SAME AS THE BRITISH #IF THEY TREAT HISTORICAL MUSLIM RULERS AND FIGURES LIKE FOREIGNERS AND EVEN MODERN INDIAN MUSLIMS AS FOREIGNERS #IF THEY CLAIM INDIA IS A HINDU LAND #NO AMOUNT OF ‘POC’ AND ‘CULTURAL APPROPRIATION’ IS GOING TO MAKE THAT NOT HINDU NATIONALIST BULLSHIT #THAT’S SPRAYING PERFUME ON A MOUND OF COW MANURE
Salman Khan ki comedies romance aur action movies enjoy kijiye!!
Hua hai aaj pehli baar jo aise muskuraya hoon Tumhe dekha toh jaana ye ke kyun duniya mein aaya hoon
Ye jaan lekar ke jaa meri tumhe jeene main aaya hoon Main tumse ishq karne ki ijaazat rab se laaya hoon
Maybe its been a thousand years since I fell in love with you. Maybe it’s been an era since I bound my lines of fate with yours. Maybe we never existed in flesh and blood. Maybe we are lines and dots of the world’s most beautiful poem. Forever etched on some parchments, fading at the same time. Who is God? What is God? God is us, our heartbeats, our mingled breaths, our falling tears, our confessions of love. Each passing day the universe burns in our passion and we fall deeper and deeper in this haze. You are me and I am you. Where do we begin and end? We are time embodied, eternity is our collective destiny.
तू जहाँ जहाँ चलेगा
मेरा साया साथ होगा
मेरा साया साथ होगा…कभी मुझको याद करके, जो बहेंगे तेरे आँसू
तो वहीं पे रोक लेंगे, उन्हें आ के मेरे आँसूमैं अगर बिछड़ भी जाऊँ, कभी मेरा ग़म न करना
मेरा प्यार याद करके, कभी आँख नम न करनातू कोई जनम भी लेगा
मेरा साया साथ होगा…
I would have opened this letter with a ‘dear’, however I wondered for a long time if it would indeed be a correct way for me to address you, after all this time. A lifetime seems to have passed between that evening of 1952 and now, sometimes even making me feel that I have slept through the last 30 years. I would often look at faces of my children and grandchildren, wondering if I am stuck in some never ending dream from which I might wake up any minute now. My hair has greyed in the fringes of my temple and forehead, my smile is showing signs of wrinkle and my fingers feel heavy. It’s not a terrible feeling, I enjoy my experiences most of the time, but sometimes my body feels like it is living the life of someone else. And that in a different timeline I am still there playing with you behind that tree. Is it still there? I was so sure I will forget everything, you, those lanes, that house and all else. Are you also there? Do you also, like me, go to sleep in the expectation of reliving our lives till 16 years of age again and again, like listening to a record on loop or going to see one particular cinema multiple times? If you are coming back from there, can you accompany me back to myself as well please?
This night seems to be taking all away from me again. The moon is cruel.
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ये गलियाँ ये चौबारा, यहाँ आना न दोबारा अब हम तो भए परदेसी के तेरा यहाँ कोई नहीं |
कल भी सूरज निकलेगा, कल भी पंछी गाएंगे सब तुझको दिखाई देंगे, पर हम न नज़र आएंगे |
आँचल में संजो लेना हमको, सपनों में बुला लेना हमको; अब हम तो भए परदेसी के तेरा यहाँ कोई नहीं |
ye galiya ye chaubara, yaha aana na dobara ab ham to bhaye pardesi ke tera yaha koi nahi
kal bhi suraj nikalega, kal bhi panchi gayenge sab tujhko dikhayi denge par ham na nazar aayenge
aanchal me sanjo lena hamko, sapno me bula lena humko; ab ham to bhaye pardesi ke tera yaha koi nahi
Tum ne jo ab apni khudgarzi me mujhko kho diya, ab duhaiyaan na dena. Toofan sare jo ab khatm ho chuke hai, aansuon ko apne sambhal kar kharch karna. Humari mohabbat ka sila jo judaai likh diya hai, humari dosti ko apne dil me humesha ke liye panah dena.
in light of swedengate i think we need to get on another important cultural debate: cash bars at weddings. like i want to know
- if you think guests should pay for drinks at a wedding
- if weddings in your culture tend to have drinks at all
- what your cultural background is
