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@janetsnakehole02
A hindu man was beaten, stripped naked and burned alive in Bangladesh recently for alleged blasphemy against the prophet of Islam. This is another such lynching in a series of attacks on the Hindu minority of the country following Sheikh Hasina’s ouster.
Aalam bhai sidelined
Uzair and Pinda hitting on Sushant Bansal-??
YE GHAR MEIN CHAL KYA RAHA HAI JASSI-?!?!
Kanhaiyya
Yaad hai kuch bhi humari, Kanhaiyya?
Kanhaiyya was the epitome of a thief.
The loose trousers, now ripped at his knees? Begged. The flashy T-shirt which had lost its colours? Borrowed. The Motorola MicroTAC phone in his pocket? Stolen.
Over the years, theft had become more of a habit than a skill. The city of Bareilly provided a buzzing site for it, filled with locals and tourists who came in search of the jhumka of Bareilly. Some of them would go home and realize that they had lost one of their belongings.
But, Kanhaiyya was a soft-hearted boy.
The elders of the village had accepted him as their collective son. They had often condemned his unethical ways. They had tried to reform him, but all in vain. He used to joke around with them whenever they scolded him for his thievery. Especially in front of Vikas Baba who was a priest in a nearby Krishna temple.
“Tumhara Kanha kare toh natkhat, aur ye Kanhaiyya kare toh jurm!”
He used to flex whatever he had stolen- sometimes a gold luxury watch,other times a wallet filled with cash, rarely a phone, and used to argue fervently, without meaning any of it.
“Ab jaisa naam, waisa kaam!”
Vikas Baba then used to run behind him with a stick despite his weak knees.
“Bhagwan maakhanchor the! Paaketmaar nahi!”
Kanhaiyya’s laughter echoed loud in the temple’s courtyard.
One summer morning, as Dadi sat under the shadow of the banyan tree enjoying the kulfi that Kanhaiyya had bought for them, her eyes narrowed at him. She clicked her tongue in disapproval of what he had become.
“Ye chori-chakari karke tujhe kya milta hai?”
Kanhaiyya threw a disinterested glance at her and muttered.
“Do time ka khana, kapde aur ek makan.”
He had had this conversation many times.
“Woh toh mai bhi tujhe de doon!”
“Aur jab aapka beta aapko Banaras bula lega? Tab kya? Bheek maangne pe utar jau?”
Dadi knew she would never get invited to her son’s house now that her daughter-in-law did not like her interference. All she wanted now was that Kanhaiyya, her son not in blood but bond, would make a good life for himself.
“Ye chori ki cheezein kabhi tikti nahi hai! Achaa kaam nahi hai, Kanhaiyya!”
There was a long pause. If not her scoldings, if not her lectures, then at least the faith of his dead parents could budge him. That was what Dadi thought.
She bent down to caress the back of his head, and asked.
“Tere maa- baap tujhe swarg se dekhenge, toh kya sochenge tere baare mein? Kaisi zindagi banayi hain tune apne liye?”
Kanhaiyya knew nothing of his parents. Except for the tale that Dadi had told him once. It sounded like a poorly made-up sad story to his teenage self. His mother had died while giving birth to him. His father, a patient of terminal illness, had wept and wept in the hospital. He had lamented that there would be no one to take care of his newborn son.
Dadi was there at that time. She had assured his father that if he ever needed someone to look after his son, she would be there. Only eight years later, his dying father had found Dadi’s address in Bareilly. He left his young son at the station and headed straight to the hospital. When Kanhaiyya turned up at the doorstep of the scribbled address, he had found the door locked. As it turned out, Dadi had gone to Banaras to stay with her son.
Poor Kanhaiyya was left to fend for himself all alone in this unknown city. He slept outside Dadi’s house at night and wandered around during the daytime. It was then, that he had taken to stealing. It started with food. Rotis, sweets and prasad. Soon he was stealing money when he realized that it brought greater returns than anything else.
Dadi returned a whole year later. The old woman who lived alone in her shabby house had recognized this boy in an instant. She took him in her arms, and apologized for her absence. It was her who had given him the name- Kanhaiyya. She used to say that he was in Gokul now, and that she was his Yashoda Maiya.
Like any other person, he should have felt grief at the thought of his long gone parents. But he felt nothing. No matter how much he tried. He gave a slight shrug, and answered.
“Jo sochna hai woh soch lenge. Mujhe toh ye bhi nahi maloom woh kaun the. Yaad bhi nahi kaise dikhte the.”
Dadi sighed heavily, her heart had always ached for this boy orphaned too early.
“Woh chhod! Kal ko tu shaadi karega! Tere biwi bachhe honge! Tu kya chahta hai? Tere bachhe tujhe aise yaad rakhe?”
Kanhaiyya was getting irritated. He didn’t want to get married. Or have kids. It would be considered a success if he was able to die with a respectable profession to his name. He threw aside the stick of the kulfi and stood up abruptly. His voice came louder than he intended it to.
“Koi mujhe yaad rakhe ya na rakhe, mujhe koi farak nahi padhta!”
“Koi aur yaad rakhe na rakhe, bas tu mujhe yaad rakh! Mujhe achaa lagega!”
Aalam remembered the words he had spoken before sending Hamza back outside. Now as Omar grabbed him by the throat and demanded who else was with him in this espionage, he waited eagerly for death. Although he knew, it would not come to him so kindly. Maybe now was the time that he might have to pay back for his sins, for all his thefts.
When Hamza walked in a moment later, Aalam looked at him. Even as the blood from the cuts he had made himself seeped into his eyes, it could not hide the pride that flickered in Aalam’s gaze for Hamza. Jaskirat.
The day Hamza Ali Mazari had successfully killed Rehman Dakait and had made everyone believe that he had tried to be the saviour once again, Aalam knew this boy would go places. And by places, he meant Lyari, Karachi and the rotten terrorism inside Pakistan.
His job would be done then. It might have been considered done that day as well.All he had to do was bring Hamza till here, lead his way up to Lyari’s throne. Teach him patience and give him tactics until he could handle everything on his own. He was Hamza’s charioteer. Saarthi.
Hamza had it in him to become Arjuna. Hamza would be the Mahanayak. Aalam had done his job as his Krishna.
He wasn’t expecting Hamza to raise his gun at him.The first bullet hit him and a sharp pain shot through his abdomen, blood splattering on his kameez. He barely registered the second and third bullets, until all he could feel was warm blood seeping out and the strength in his body giving out.
As his body fell limp in Omar’s hold, he thought of the favour Hamza had done for him. A favour he hadn’t even asked for, a favour he wouldn’t be able to repay in this lifetime. The favour of death. A peaceful one at that. He knew it must not have been easy for him to press the trigger, but he had done so.
It was as if this Kanhaiyya had whispered in his Arjun’s ear.
“Yudh karna tumhara kartavya hai, Parth! Shastra uthao!”
As his breaths shallowed in his burning chest and darkness enveloped around him, he heard Hamza’s low voice. Jala do inki laashe. Burn their bodies.
Not only had his Hamza given him a peaceful death, but also a ceremonious funeral. In his last breath, Kanhaiyya felt grateful that his immoral life tainted with thefts and lowly crimes had attained a legitimate end with a sacrifice for his motherland.
Months later, when Hamza travelled to Dubai for his meeting with Sanyal Sir, he carried the cremated ashes of Aalam Bhai and Pinda with him. He requested Sushant Bansal to scatter Aalam Bhai’s ashes in the Ganga river.
Aalam Bhai never got the chance to tell the story of his life. But Hamza remembered that he was from Bareilly. Flowing through the Ramganga river, he hoped that his ashes would reach the banks at Bareilly and Aalam Bhai would reunite with his motherland once again.
[Authors Note: I was inspired to write this after reading a comment under this song on YT. Also, this sounded way way better in my head. I had also written more than half of the backstory of Aalam Bhai (how he was recruited), but it wasn't satisfactory. Also, I have my entrance in a week . So I thought it would be wise to post at least this much. If and when I complete Aalam Bhai's backstory, I will post it in a second part or maybe, edit this one if its possible.]
this may be one of the most heartwrenching things i’ve ever read 😭😭 the concept that aalam’s real name could be kanhaiyya didn’t occur to me till now but you work it in so beautifully and i love that he gets a peaceful reunion with his motherland, this is truly such thoughtful writing ❤️❤️
Dear Pretty Girl
yaar comment vagera kar diya karo mein motivate ho jati hu
I am sorry anon if its too short
Pairing: Sushant Bansal x Anvika Mittal
Note: this is a work of fiction. It has no connection with real life. It does not promote any violence or support the real life actions of the people mentioned. All characters rightly belong to Aditya Dhar except my oc. Plagiarism is strictly prohibited.
Sushant Bansal and Anvika Mittal had known each other for their whole lives now.
Sushant's father Harish Bansal and Anvika's father Sanjay Mittal had been school friends who soon became neighbours.
Even though they are no longer neighbours now, they are still best of friends and that has led to Anvika meeting Sushant at every occassion, festival and birthdays.
It was safe to say that she had developed an infatuation for him which soon became a crush and now at 25 Anvika was sure that Sushant was the love of her life.
However, she could never gather the courage to confess her feelings to him, the main reason being her insecurity towards her weight and appearance.
So she choose to admire him from afar. Hoping that one day he might see her.
So Anvika would be present everywhere Sushant was, stealing glances at him across crowded rooms, treasuring every casual smile he gave her as though it meant something more.
And perhaps that was her biggest weakness — she kept hoping that one day, Sushant would look at her the same way she had always looked at him.
Anvika who was a doctor knew all about her PCOS and how it affects her weight gain. She also knew that even if she takes precautionary measures it is not something she can cure overnight.
Her weight always fluctuates, sometimes decreasing suddenly but mostly it would shoot up.
She had grown insecure of this over time, because at every gathering she would recieve backhanded compliments from the people.
“Such a sweet face, bas thoda weight kam kar le.”
“Pretty toh hai…”
These were some constant in her life.
That evening when she returned home, it had been pretty normal. Anvika had greated her mother, changed her clothes and finally sit down to eat dinner with her family.
"Aaj sushant ka rishta pakka ho gaya" her father informs them, his tone very random.
Her mother replied with something but Anvika did not hear a word. Her father's words kept ringing in her head.
She felt her heartbeat quicken with anxiety and Anvika could swear that she literally felt her heart being broken.
She gulped the bile that was threatening her to cry and blinked away the tears that had gathered in the corner of her eyes. She put on a fake smile for her parents as to not break their hearts.
---
The next week passed in blur for Anvika, she avoided Sushant like a plague. Any other day she would have excitedly taken the opportunity to go to his house, sometimes to deliever some dish her mother made or other times just to give his mother company.
But in the last week, she did not take any initiative to go to his house. She spent her free hours at her house, imagining every thing she ever dreamt being broken into pieces. It was pathetic really, but that was her comfort mechanism.
On the Saturday night, her friends randomly dragged her to a bar. It was not anything fancy rather a simple bar in delhi that offered drinks and karoke.
And no, Anvika had not planned on drinking at all. She was an occasional drinker. But that night the idea of drinking her sorrows away sounded good to her.
The bar was loud, filled with noise and Anvika felt her head throb with pain. Perhaps that was the alcohol.
Her friends were too busy screaming the lyrics of old Bollywood songs near the karaoke stage to notice how unusually quiet she had become.
Anvika was not a reckless drinker. In fact, she hated losing control over herself.
But tonight everything hurt too much.
The thought of Sushant Bansal marrying someone else felt like someone was slowly crushing her chest.
It was stupid. Pathetic even. Because Sushant had never promised her anything. He didn’t even know how deeply she loved him. Still, the pain remained.
“Anvi,” one of her friends nudged her, “you okay?”
She laughed weakly. “Fantastic.”
“You look like you’re about to murder someone.”
“Maybe myself.”
“ANVIKA!”
“I’m joking,” she giggled before taking another sip.
And perhaps that was the problem. She had crossed the line between tipsy and emotional.
Very emotional. Very stupidly emotional.
Her phone buzzed against the table, his name displaying on the contact.
Anvika's breath hitched in her throat. Why was he calling her? For a moment she stared at it before picking up with shaky hands.
"He-Hello?" 'Why the fuck am I stuttering?' Anvika thinks bitterly.
"Tum kaha ho?" Sushant's deep voice asked from the other side. He sounded firm maybe even frustrated because he had to deal with her mess.
"bahar hu" she replies and then after a pause asks "tumhe kaise pata mein ghar par nahi hu?"
"Bahar kaha?" Sushant demands ignoring her later question.
Anvika laughed bitterly "Tumhe kya? Jao apni fiance ke paas"
Sushant sighed on the other side and Anvika had thought that he finally gave up "Dubara nahi puchunga. Chup chap location bhejo"
Anvika was just about to refuse but he added "Tumhari mummy pareshan hai"
She frowned to herself and thought of her mother. She could not worry her more than she already was. So she sent her location to Sushant.
"Wahi rehna"
He disconnected the call and Anvika scoffed to herself.
Twenty minutes later, Sushant walked into the bar looking wildly out of place.
White shirt. Slightly messy hair. Worried expression. And somehow still the most handsome man in the room.
Anvika’s heart hurt at the sight of him. His eyes found her instantly. The irritation on his face melted into disbelief as he approached the booth.
Anvika gulped as he stood in front of her towering her "You're drunk" sushant stated.
"Aur tumhe kya?" She sasses back at him grabbing another bottle from the bar.
Sushant took the bottle from her hand and placed it back on the counter.
"yeh kya nashediyo jessi harkate laga rakhi hai" (help I laughed at this)
"Tumhe kya hai? Jao apni fiance ke paas" she says
Sushant sighed (probably for the 50th time that night) and rubbed his hand over his face.
"To tabhi tum ek hafte se gayab ho?"
Anvika's heart fluttered at the thought that he perhaps noticed her disappearance.
"Tumhe kya? Tumhe iss baat ka bhi nahi pata ki I love you! Jab se we have been 12!"
Sushant grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer to him. He pinned her wrist behind her back. The bar was now lost in the background as they started at each other, their breaths mingling.
"Yeh 'tumhe kya, tumhe kya' kyu laga rakha hai?" Sushant whispers his other hand tucking a stray hairstrand behind her ear.
"Apni fiance se nahi puchunga to kisse puchunga tum batao?" He asks with a hum.
Anvika's eyes bluged out of their sockets as she stared at him "Tum pagal ho gaye ho?"
"Chalo kuch to naya bola tumne"
Ignoring his not so subtle dab at her she pushed him away lightly, though her heart begged her to pull him closer.
"Kya matlab hai tumhara?"
"Mera matlab yeh hai meri jaan ki jo meri shaadi fix hui thi na ussi ladki ke saath hui thi jo abhi meri bahon mein hai" Sushant explains
"Matlab.........tum..........mein?" she asks
"Haan meri jaan. Hum dono" this time he placed a small kiss on her cheek.
"Why me? I am not pretty. Mera weight-"
“Anvika,” he murmured, “look at me.”
Reluctantly, she did.
And the sheer tenderness in his eyes nearly broke her.
“I don’t care about these stupid stereotypes and you shouldn't too.”
She laughed bitterly. “Easy for you to say.”
“No,” he said firmly. “Easy for me to love you.”
The words hit her so suddenly that she forgot how to breathe.
“I love your smile. I love how passionate you get about your patients. I love how you remember everyone’s coffee orders. I love how soft your cheeks get when you’re sleepy.”
A tear slipped down her face.
“And I especially love,” he continued gently, “that despite the world making you insecure for years, you still remained kind.”
Anvika looked down immediately, overwhelmed. “Sushant…”
He reached forward carefully, tilting her chin back up.
“You are the prettiest girl I know.”
Her lips trembled helplessly.
“Really?”
He smiled softly. “Dear pretty girl,” he whispered, “I have been in love with you for a very long time.”
And before she could cry again, he leaned forward and kissed her gently. Sweet. Patient.
Like something he had wanted to do for years.
Bonus-
Anvika stood in the living room with her arms crossed above her chest and started at their families. Sushant leaned against the door watching the scene with an amused glint in his eyes.
"To yeh matlab aap sab ka plan tha?" She asks tilting her head back.
"Beta meine to bas plan kara tha. Execute karne ka idea iska tha" Sanjay immediately placed the blame on Harish. Harish sent a stink eye his way.
"Oh acha" Anvika says mockingly.
"Aree beta. Meine to bas execute karne ko bola tha. Sushant ko manaya to uski maa ne" Harish placed the blame on his wife Sarita who glared at him
"Aaj aap Sushant ke saath sona" she mutters to him before placing her attention back at Anvika.
"Are beta tum to janti hi ho sushant mujhse zyada Parul ki baat sunta hai. Usne manaya usse"
Parul, Anvika's mother glared at her bestfriend "Matlab hum dono ne mil kar manaya" Sarita adds
Anvika raises an eyebrow at the innocent faces and turns to Sushant. He immediately straightens under her gaze
"Aur tum. Tumhe kis par ilzam lagana hai?" She asks
"Tum par. Tum agar aake apni feelings confess kar deti to yeh plan hi na banana padta" Sushant explains.
Anvika's jaw dropped in shock and she stared at him.
"Tum mujh par blame daal rahe ho?" She questions pointing a finger towards herself. Sushant immediately nodded his head.
"Vesse beta baat to sahi hi hai." Her mother says.
Anvika groans and stomps on her feet.
"Sab pareshan karte hai mujhe!" She whines and sushant immediately hugs her while their parents laugh.
....A man who was tortured and brainwashed for decades... who was forced to kill people... should die to redeem himself for being tortured and brainwashed and forced to kill people...
Ok. Got that.
Call me a bitch, but I will always support Jaskirat's return to his motherland, even in his current spectral state. I will always support him cutting off ties with the relations he had formed across the border. He is an Indian before he is anything else. I commend his decision not to be swayed by emotional attachments in Lyari. I do not align myself with a forlorn lover or a gangster; rather, I stand with the Fauji. I stand with the young man who endured the loss of his father and elder sister due to injustice. The subsequent fates of others after his departure are of no concern to me. My allegiance is with the patriot he embodies before anything else.
‼️‼️ DHURANDHAR 2 SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT ‼️‼️
everybody is talking about “laashein jala dena inki” but you know where i’m stuck? during the call between sanyal and the isi general, the call starts with sanyal greeting the general with salaam walaikum and the general responding with walaikum a-salaam. because hamza is being held by the isi and they have full leverage right now, sanyal is reaching out to them in a language and a greeting that is familiar to them. but as the conversation progresses, sanyal gains his leverage back. after exposing the general and revealing his upper hand, by the end of the conversation, he now holds all the power. and he underlines that by ending the call with namaskar, to which the general, now powerless, responds with namaskar as well. truly underrated peak detailing by aditya dhar and i have no choice but to stan
literally obsessed with these pictures
DHURANDHAR SPOILERS BUT
peak detailing this, peak detailing that.
yes, but what about this scene where just like arjun who had to kill his family members to preserve dharma, jaskirat has just killed both his brother like friend from his homeland who is his sister's husband AND his brother like friend from a foreign land, while the background song asks this?
‼️‼️ DHURANDHAR 2 SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT ‼️‼️
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my proposed alternate ending - after jaskirat sees that his family has moved on and walks away from them, cut to a couple years later, and he’s still “on the loose” living in bareilly, running either a dhoodh soda shop or a tea stall
because “koi aur yaad rakhe naa rakhe bas tu mujhe yaad rakhna” what better way to do it than that?? 😭😭
(dhar saab if you’re listening then maybe a bonus scene for the ott release you didn’t hear it from me) (or fanfic writers if you could take a shot at it just to heal my shattered heart)
BALIDAN-PARMO-DHARMA (बलिदान परम धर्म)
ranveer singh in DHURANDHAR and DHURANDHAR the revenge, dir: aditya dhar
indian film censor board be like
“misogynistic treatment of women, item songs for tharki men to lust over, cheap jokes, vulgar dancing, and crass scenes are fine!!!! but A rated dhurandhar the revenge showing violent killings of terrorists and some swear words? a few mentions of pakistan realities? absolutely not! censor that shit!!!”
censor board will keep on censor boarding 🫠
this is what authors mean when they say “his eyes softened”😭
Being the Lady in Silver at the masquerade ball was Sophie's fantasy. Being just Benedict at My Cottage was Benedict's fantasy. But neither of their fantasies could have been fulfilled without each other.
WELL HE SURE AS FUCK GETS IT NOW
worse color grading, half the words being censored, scenes being made so much shorter that the runtime gets cut by ten whole minutes….thank god i got to watch it uncensored in the us theaters because netflix done fucked it up for me now 🥲 love how animal gets to be left as is and pushpa can be nearly four hours long but dhurandhar is where netflix draws the line yup that makes total sense babe!!
"I know how to leisure. I know how to leisure perfectly." SOPHIE BAEK in BRIDGERTON SEASON 4
