Tumgik
#this is my punjab
ehmerapunjab · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
1968 picture of Akal Takht. Amritsar, Punjab, India from the Wim Swann Collection.
11 notes · View notes
evviejo · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
the thirteenth doctor & gender
2K notes · View notes
zindagi-se-darte-ho · 3 months
Text
What's god to a woman's love anyway
Ranjha became deewana (mad) in his love for Heer, even though he could not marry her. Heer was married off to another man, yet Ranjha kept loving, loving her a little more with each passing day. He trusted his love, he trusted her with his love. And what power did Heer's family hold —mere humans as they were— to separate lovers who loved with such sincerity? What's the rules of the world, compared to a woman's love? What's stronger— the hatred spewed by the world or the love of determined lovers? So they were to unite in holy matrimony, until Heer trusted her uncle enough, consuming food that had been poisoned. Upon the incident coming to his knowledge, Ranjha was quick to follow, eating from the same bowl as of Heer, falling dead by her side. So they were united, finally, in spite of the zehr-e-nafrat (poison of hatred) spewed by the jahaan (world).
kyon-kay aakhir aik toh hona hee tha, chahey duniya-jahaan ke iss taraf ho ya uss taraf.
highly inspired by maybecowboycore's original post.
30 notes · View notes
justahumblememefarmer · 4 months
Text
Ultimate Doctor Who Poll Round 2 - Matchup 1
Episode Summaries under the cut
Tumblr media
11: Demons of the Punjab - Season 11, Episode 6: Yaz asks the Doctor to take her back in time to learn more about her grandmother's life. They arrive shortly before the Partition that separated India and Pakistin, and just in time for her Nani's wedding, to a man who is not her grandfather. The political divide of Partition causes tensions in the grooms family, including his brother, who has sold them out and is responsible for the murder of several people. The groom decides to hold his brother off and tells Yaz's Nani and her family to escape, while he stays behind and is killed. The Doctor and her family take off in the TARDIS, as interfering would wipe Yaz from existence.
Tumblr media
139: The Sontaran Stratagem/The Poison Sky - Season 4, Episodes 4 & 5: Martha calls the Doctor to return to Earth where she is working with UNIT to investigate alien involvement in the development of GPS units that have caused several deaths. The Sontarans have used the GPS's to convert cars around the globe into emitters that will alter Earth's atmosphere to adapt it into a Sontaran clone bay. The Doctor destroys the gas to save the Earth and the Sontaran ship is destroyed.
(Beat #118: Love and Monsters in Round 1)
20 notes · View notes
Text
Feelings about Bringing Back Moffat For RTD2 + Other Writers I Think Should Get the Chance
Whelp, just found out that Steven Moffat is going to be writing an episode of Fifteen and I'm just like...eh? about the whole prospect. Like, not as terrified as I once might have been but like...hoping he grew as a writer. Because even though I vastly prefer his one-offs to his overarching season ideas...let's not pretend that you couldn't see the warning signs looking back. The focus on either women as mothers (Doctor Dances) women companions as operating in service/deference to the Doctor (Empty Child/Blink) or women as the Time Traveller's Wife (Girl in the Fireplace, Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead). Empty Child/Doctor Dances, Blink, and Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead are all fantastic episodes and I think Blink is the strongest one-off (though let's all remember that the ending was suggested by Gatiss, not Moffat) though I will adore Empty Child/Doctor Dances until I die (though let's not forget that Jack Harkness was an RTD invention).
I really hope he learned his lessons through writing latestage Clara and Bill as companions, but I'm honestly just as scared of his racial undertones as am of RTD's. Let's not forget that both of the black companions under Moffat (Bill&Danny) were both dehumanized/turned into Cybermen in order to service Clara and the Doctor/Missy's arcs (though Bill's ending is far better handled in terms of giving Bill her own ending than Danny's, imo), just as RTD really callously handled Martha's treatment, especially in historical episodes. That is not to say that I don't have some hope due to how Bill's race was handled in Thin Ice, but let's just say I'm cautious about getting super excited like some people are.
All of which is to say...I want Toby Whithouse to write a one-off in the RTD2 Era. Or many. I want his examination of the fucked-up and complicated psychological aspects of the Doctor/Companion relationship and even the Doctor themself (I mean he is the one who wrote School Reunion, God Complex, A Town Called Mercy, Under the Lake/Before the Flood, and Vampires of Venice).
ALSO more women and writers of color. I want to see what kind of new voices in sci-fi can be brought to the table and explore more aspects of their experiences, especially as it pertains to historical/future episodes. I'm done with pretending that Demons of the Punjab wasn't one of the best episodes of Doctor Who, and that was specifically because an Indian writer (Vinay Patel) was brought in to write it. (Also, can we see Vinay back as well? He also wrote Fugitive of the Judoon which was another banger. He's also really good at exploring character feelings/implications of time travel/memory.) I also think that Joy Wilkinson, who wrote the Witchfinders, could be a fun choice as well. I really liked the Witchfinders and I'm curious to see how she might tackle a subject matter like that again.
10 notes · View notes
Text
your single look is enough to draw charge into my body
your single look is what makes me shiver and want to fall in your arm
and to feel your body's warmth
you are the candle which lights me up when i feel moody
~jaismeen kaur
15 notes · View notes
molkolsdal · 2 months
Text
thinking about the identity crisis i went though as a kid cuz my parents had told me very simply that my mom was pashtun and my dad was punjabi and they were both from peshawar and that was that. understandably they had simplified it so much for me cuz i was a kid, but whenever other brown people asked where i was from or "what are you" and i mentioned punjabi and they'd be like oh wow where? lahore? and i'd just be like nope lol peshawar and they would press me about how my dad could be punjabi if he was from peshawar and i just didn't have an answer. when i got a little older, i started saying well borders are manmade, you don't necessarily have to be from one ethnicity cuz you're from a certain area (and i was right! i just didn't know at the time why i was right).
as i got older and i found out more about our family background, it all made more sense to me as i came to know that the punjabi side of us was allegedly from a great-great-great grandfather from gurdaspur who had moved to bannu way back when. but as my interest in linguistics and anthropology and history grew, i realized that my old explanation of "borders are manmade" was true anyway!!! prime examples being speakers of Hindko and Derawali, as well as the Hazarewal community in general. anyways, i could go on about this, but it's all just so endlessly fascinating that i wouldn't know where to stop so i'll stop now.
10 notes · View notes
the-brown-man · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
15°C in Punjab hits differently lmao
12 notes · View notes
sapphichymns · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
'Cause I filled my bed with my regrets But it hasn't killed me yet None of it mattered None of it mattered And the mess we made on Fridays Gave me Sundays on my knees But you still matter You still matter
306 notes · View notes
ladystormcrow · 11 months
Text
My Phantom OT3 brainrot is not going away, and now, against my will, I’ve come up with something resembling a (very sappy and ridiculous) short story idea. I’m writing it here to vent it: 
I have a headcanon that, despite his many other musical talents, Erik is not good at dancing -- he knows it in theory just fine, but actually practicing it requires a partner who’s willing to touch you, and he’s never had that. 
So in my vaguely-imagined AU where Christine and Raoul take him with them at the end (and the three of them leave France for a time while they all heal and Figure Things Out), Raoul decides to teach him. The book (which I have read, though my vague AU is kind of a mishmash of that and the musical) describes that Raoul was mostly raised by his older sisters and other female relatives, so I like to imagine that they taught him ballroom dancing when he was a kid, and he just copies their methods exactly when teaching another man to dance:
Raoul: Just put your hand on my waist. Erik: We are not doing this. Raoul: Come on, lead me!
24 notes · View notes
Text
So Then I Took My Turn
Fandom: Doctor Who
Ship: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Summary: The Doctor and Yaz need to stop by her parent's flat to pick up some supplies, only someone unexpected is there - and she wants to speak to the Doctor. Thirteen finds herself reevaluating decisions she's made. Title from Yellow - Jodie Whittaker (Coldplay cover)
AN: A conversation between these two is something that's been floating about in my head for a while - enjoy :) and massive thanks to @logically-blue for reading this for me <333 Read on AO3
The Khan family flat was usually quiet this late on a Sunday evening; Sonya absent-mindedly watching the Real Housewives while scrolling through Instagram, occasionally interrupted by Najia and Hakim bickering over the cleaning. So when the doorbell rang seven times in a row, followed by rather anxious knocking, naturally they were all surprised, even more so when Najia opened the door.
"Yasmin Khan!! It is 10:45pm, is this really the best time you could come up with to visit??" she scolded, but fondly, as she pulled her daughter into a warm hug. She couldn't even remember how many weeks it had been, but based on the guilty look on Yaz's face, it must have been longer than she had liked.
"Sorry, sorry. Can we come in, mum? We needed to borrow some stuff. And all the shops are closed."
"Course, love, come on. Wait, we?"
"Hiya, Yaz's mum!" said a familiar voice from behind the door, although Najia noted a tinge of apprehension that she hadn't before - was the Doctor seriously scared of her after their last conversation? She couldn't help but smile to herself at the thought.
"Doctor, hello. Right, let's get you lot some tea - hang on, where are your other friends?"
"Oh, they're uh. Asleep?" Yaz quickly responded, sighing at herself for not being able to come up with a better alibi. Najia didn't appreciate knowing her daughter was lying to her, whilst also knowing there was no way she'd have it explained to her any time soon.
Setting her annoyance aside, she ushered the pair of them in, and waved them towards the living room as she put the kettle on.
The Doctor walked behind Yaz down the corridor, unusually silent.
"Come on Doctor, what's the big deal?" she thought to herself."It's just the Khans. You love the Khans! Okay, well, yeah. In fact, Doctor, maybe that's the issue. Why do they make you so nervous? Maybe you are just socially awkward. Or is it because-"
Her reasoning with herself came to an abrupt halt when she made contact with a pair of eyes she hadn't seen in a while. Well, it hadn't been so long for her. For Umbreen, it had been 75 years.
"Nani! I didn't know you were here" Yaz beamed at her grandmother, "this is my friend. You can call her the Doctor".
Suddenly, Yaz realised the weight of this meeting. Surely, Umbreen wouldn't recognise her? It had been so long, after all. She felt her heart pound as she looked anxiously between the two of them. She thought that her Nani had a certain glint in her eye, although that may have just been a response to the Doctor's bum bag, which she had insisted on wearing yet again.
"Doctor, lovely to meet you" she said, "how did you two meet?"
This question was monumentally less intimidating than when her own daughter had asked it years ago, and Yaz found herself able to answer this time.
"We met while I was on the job, and we've been travelling a little with our other friends.(Not even technically a lie, nice one Yaz)"
Umbreen didn't respond, but smiled softly. Knowingly? The Doctor looked at Yaz, both clearly thinking the same thing. The eye contact didn't end, and somehow didn't feel awkward, but they both felt the weight of their conversation only the other week weighing down on them a little more with every second they didn't look away. The Doctor gave Yaz a little smile, and she finally forced herself to turn her head.
That just wasn't fair, Yaz thought. For the Doctor to look at her like that, to smile at her like that, when she was the only thing stopping them from being together. And that isn't fair either, she thought, to be thinking that. It seemed as though the universe was doing its best to get in the way of them. It wasn't the Doctor's fault, she knew that, but in moments like this it felt better to have something to hold against her. It felt easier then to pretend she wasn't that bothered by it. That she could even be in the same room as the Doctor anymore without thinking of the beach, the stone, the jokes, the tears.
That damned beach.
Umbreen, meanwhile, had been watching this intense eye contact, followed by uncomfortable silence, intrigued by this side of her granddaughter she hadn't seen in, well, ever. But she knew Yaz well enough to tell that she was hurting, no matter how hard she tried to pretend she wasn't, and she imagined it had something to do with this woman decked in rainbows. She'd have to do something about that.
Everyone exited their respective trains of thought when Najia came rattling in with cups of tea.
"Your dad's on his way to pick up Son from some party." she explained, as she passed the drinks around. "What was it you needed to borrow, love?"
"Oh, the Doctor needed something for a... a project she's working on..." she looked towards the Doctor expectantly, who was again looking a little less assertive than usual. Yaz knew how much her mother would be enjoying this.
"Just some coffee beans! I've got pretty much everything else I need, but the TAR- um, my... landlord? Yeah, my landlord, she does NOT trust me with coffee. Neither does Yaz, actually. Or anyone." she continued a little sheepishly.
"Right... well, you can help yourself, there's plenty in the kitchen" Najia responded, barely surprised at this bizarre statement.
The Doctor got up, and Yaz was just about to follow her, when she felt a hand on her arm.
"You stay here and catch up with your mum, beti. I'll go and show the Doctor where everything is." Yaz opened her mouth to argue, but Umbreen made a face at her that she knew better than to talk back to, and moved towards the kitchen.
The Doctor was already busy foraging through cupboards when Umbreen came in. The rustling of packets was interrupted with a calm, yet attention-commanding statement.
"I haven't forgotten, you know."
"Crap. Crap. Shit! Oi, language, Doctor. But seriously, what now??" her mind raced as she tried desperately to avoid eye contact, without seeming any more suspicious than she already did.
Umbreen sensed her trying to wiggle her way out of this, and thought it best to keep going.
"I mean really, Doctor, a hyperactive blonde in a big bright coat with a magic wand is not something I saw every day in Lahore. Especially not one who spoke Punjabi! What did you expect?"
"Yeah, maybe should have thought that one through a little. Could have gone a tad more local. Or not come at all... I told them! I said to Yaz, very tricky business! Too many risks! But she kept asking, and you know I couldn't..." the Doctor stopped herself abruptly.
Umbreen smiled. "It is hard to say no to that sweet girl's face, I know."
The Doctor felt herself smile too. Relax a little, even. Najia and Yaz were well out of earshot; she heard them chatting faintly, and she smiled a little more upon hearing Yaz laugh - a proper, happy laugh. One that sounded like those first few months of travelling together. One she didn't hear so much anymore.
"And whose fault is that, Doctor?"
The smile fell. Silence, too, for a moment.
"Doctor, may I ask you something?"
"Yeah, course."
"You knew Prem and I would not have the life we dreamt of. And yet, you married us, bound us together. You told us about love and hope and faith. Why?"
"Just like I said. You were so certain in each other. Nothing - no forces, no hate, no demons - no-one could ever come above that."
"Would you not rather have saved us the pain of losing each other? Made it so that we had nothing to lose? Tell me Doctor, what was the point if we had no hope of forever?"
The Doctor paused. Umbreen saw pain - veiled, but there - flash across her face. "A wonderful person once told me this, and I might not like it, but I do stand by it. Happy ever after doesn't mean forever. It just means time."
"Wait."
The point of this conversation clicked.
"Umbreen." the Doctor sighed, "This is a more difficult situation than I can really convey. I understand, truly, I do, but I... I don't HAVE time. I have nothing to offer anyone that won't end in pain. Pain that will last lifetimes. Not just for me. For them too. ...For her."
"I never said you did. My question is, did you ever offer it in the first place?"
"You want to see her get hurt? Because that's where this goes, Umbreen. That's where this always goes. I know you see it between us, the whole bloodyuniverse,seems to see it, but it's too late. It was always too late. No matter when I start, no matter what I do, I will never,ever, have enough time left. Never enough time to keep them safe, to explain it all, to give them what they deserve. It's not worth the pain. It's not worth another ending."
"That does not seem like your choice alone to make."
The Doctor sat, a look on her face that said the conversation was over. That it was all fine. But beneath that, Umbreen could see pain. It reminded her of her own Yasmin, all those years ago. The face, the smile, that screamed she was fine, but the eyes that pleaded for help. She didn't know this mysterious figure enough to push much further. Only one card was left for her to play, the one she used without fail, time and time again, on her children and grandchildren alike.
"How would it feel if this were happening to you?"
"...What?"
"How would it feel if someone, who had lifted you out of loss and pain and darkness, told you no? Not letting you choose the difficult road that meant more time with them? Even if you knew that time was short?"
Frozen between one heartbeat and the next.
"If they told you that you weren't getting a say. That their mind was made up and it was too late to do anything about it."
Push that button, Doctor, it will go off in your own face.
"That they wanted you to move on with your life and find something better, to pretend they never meant anything to you!"
Tell me about her.
"I know you think you're being kind, Doctor. I don't doubt that for a second. But I know what truly hurts my granddaughter the most. And it's not rough days, because she knows how to get through those. It's not endings, or sadness, or loss. It's the feeling that she isn't worth those things." Umbreen silently left both the kitchen, and the loud thoughts that she could almost hear the Doctor thinking.
People like me and you, we should say things to one another. And I'm going to say them now.
The walk back to the TARDIS felt at least five times as long as usual."Maybe it is, maybe you've moved" thought the Doctor, "if you're trying to get me to talk to her first.""Maybe I should do it now. So if it all goes wrong and she never wants to see me again, at least she hasn't got as far to walk back." The Doctor was snapped out of her thoughts at the feeling of a cold hand brushing lightly past her own, gently bumping into her as they walked.
"Are you alright?"
Yaz wondered if she would ever get an actual answer to that question. Try rephrasing, maybe.
"...what did Nani say?"
The sound of footsteps stopped.
"Did I really make you think you weren't worth it?" she replied, her voice cracking a little.
Yaz looked up, and was shocked to see tears brimming in her shining eyes.
"Doctor, what do you mean? Worth what?" she took the Doctor's trembling hands into her own, looking to her for permission. The Doctor held on as if Yaz's touch could undo these months, years, decades of hurting.
"I didn't... I neverwantedto shut you out. I was only ever trying to protect you. I have never, for a single second of our time together, thought that you weren't worth the pain. Really, not once. Scout's honour. I just-"
The Doctor felt Yaz's thumb rub gently over her own, encouraging her but never rushing her. She felt her cold metal rings, the two carefully chosen heartbeats that Yaz thought she didn't notice, pressing against the palm of her shaky hand.
"I just thought thatIwasn't worth that. I didn't want to take your life away from you, Yaz."
Yaz sighed. She never would understand how one person could be so quick, so bright, but also so very stupid about these things.
"Doctor, that exact thing has happened to me three times before. Once when I was in school. You know the time I mean." the Doctor squeezed Yaz's hand even tighter. "But the other two times were probably even worse. My life was taken away from me for ten months, and then for almost four years!"
"See, that's what I mean, Yaz. I couldn't stop you getting stuck in the past, how can I risk you getting lost somewhere I can't get to you?"
"It's a good thing she's cute," Yaz thought,"or I so would have kicked her by now."
"Not that, bighead. That wasn't the problem, not really.
The only thing you could ever do to take my life away from me isleave."
The Doctor met Yaz's gaze. Years upon years of nothing but kindness, patience, loyalty,carebeamed back at her.
"Now or never, Yaz."
"I know you want to look after me. The thing is, I want to look after you too," Yaz grinned, "And technically, you are still a witness from a crime scene on a train,Madam. Which means I've got to make sure you're alright. You know. Duty of care."
The Doctor gave no response except a wide-open mouth. Yaz took that as a yes.
"So... what now?"
I guess we're both just gonna have to be brave.
...Let her be brave.
Yaz felt chapped lips gently, experimentally, press against hers, a hand tangled in her hair. It was brief, unpolished, maybe even desperate, but tender. She heard a huge sigh of contentment and almost immediately felt the Doctor's cold face jammed between her shoulder and her neck, arms coiled tightly around her waist. Fighting back tears that came flooding at this moment she'd waited so long for, Yaz held the Doctor close and buried her face in her hair. She lightly kissed the top of her head before they took a step back, smiling at each other warmly, but a little cautiously. This was new.
"Yasmin Khan.My Yasmin Khan.
You wanna try that whole 'date' thing again?" End Notes: The Doctor needed coffee for a science experiment, btw. Did the science experiment involve her trying the coffee with disastrous consequences, maybe. Still very new to this writing thing, so any comments/tips much appreciated :)
58 notes · View notes
handweavers · 1 year
Text
something so specific about meeting another malaysian sikh whose ancestors came here under the same circumstances mine did. the instant kinship is unlike anything else i've experienced
25 notes · View notes
evviejo · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
thirteen's era appreciation: 345/?
306 notes · View notes
stargirl-mp3 · 4 months
Text
I'm still thinking about that great grandma college degree poll and its creator's attitude that's so insane to me both of my maternal grandparents were illiterate who never had a day of schooling in their entire lives my paternal grandmother had no education either at all like my UNCLES left school at 14 (once the family emigrated to England) and worked in a foundry for the rest of their working lives like sorry we were so poor and marginalised for our caste damn we really should have pulled ourselves out of 1000s of years of structural violent oppression to us dalits 🤪
4 notes · View notes
topnotchquark · 14 days
Text
One thing abt me, I do NOT play about Diljit Dosanjh.
5 notes · View notes
necromancy-savant · 2 months
Text
I want a new tattoo so bad
2 notes · View notes