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#destiny's rainboww
khudrang · 8 months
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My days are constituted of elements of three- longing, anticipation, and thee. My eyes curse me with scarlet tributaries branching through the snowy landscape, my spine longs for a linear alignment, but I disregard these trivial corporalities and yearn- yearn like the traveller does for a tree and the farmer does for the rain. I was born for soul crushing devotion, and I was born with it to a fault. The sun rises not when it pours in its honey-coloured self onto my bed, but when you acknowledge the inherent optimism in that hour of the day. Having a schedule is so unromantic, so instead I plan my days around when my screen lights up with your name. The darting eyes towards that elaborate nom de plume, the urgency playing at my fingertips showing itself as an itch, the strenuous exercise in self-restraint that leaves me exhausted, the well-adjusted norm of being orderly and even-tempered that I shrug off with a trancelike ease, in possession of the knowledge of what character it would make me in a romance novel, but oh dearest one, it seems like I’m an ill fit for civilization, for you see, I am uncivilized for loving you like I do. 
-destiny
@keats-and-shauq
moodboard and prose by me
(image credits to their respective owners on Pinterest and Tumblr, except the center-most image- that's me and my beloved)
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khudrang · 19 days
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made this for my LinkedIn cover teehee gonna remain unemployed 4evr
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khudrang · 2 years
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forbidden love
léon morin, priest (1961) dir. jean-pierre melville// fleabag (2016)// black narcissus dir. michael powell (1947)
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khudrang · 2 years
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qayamat khaiz hain tumhari aankhen,
tum aakhir khawab kiske dekhte ho?
-Jaun Elia
your eyes are bearers of the apocalypse
who, then, is the one you see in your dreams?
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khudrang · 5 months
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diwali- hometown edition
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khudrang · 9 days
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lootera ft. sunflowers by low
edit by me
no copyright infringement intended
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khudrang · 1 year
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diwali and its colours
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khudrang · 2 years
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Mirabai and Krishna
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Hark! The Dark One speaks of his most beloved:
O Meera! The bounty of love, the chalice of desire,
Why, pray, do you beg for the nectar from my lips?
Your words, through the centuries, have carried more nectar
Than could ever suffice inside this humble cowherd
Why then, must you await my footsteps
When your strains have brought milllions of them to my threshold?
O Devotee! Some may call you deranged, mistake your courtship for madness
But who else would give up the body adorned with jewels
Sitting on a throne, but the wisest of all?
Know this, Dear One,
that love that you wait on
the one needed to unfurl yourself,
is ever-present
sometimes beside you, sometimes inside you.
-destiny
edit and poem by me
(text at the bottom right reads:
mere toh giridhar gopal doosro na koi
jaake sir mor mukut mero pati soyi
mine is giridhar gopal, no other is mine,
the one who bears the peacock feather on his head is my husband)
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khudrang · 2 years
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They call it a tale of brothers
But not a tale soaked in the fraternal blood
They call it a tale of familial love and rivalry
But not a skeletal view of sanguine bonds
Was it a war, or was it a claw?
Was it about the victorious righteousness, or its inherent desolation?
(ask the man who made it to the top of the mountain)
Was it the slip of a domino, or the dictate of a feather-crowned being?
When they say that words have a power of their own,
They whisper that the victors renamed their rivals.
Who, then, called it an epic, something so grand it cannot be contained,
when it is contained within each one of us?
-destiny
Sundaralekhan Day 9: Mahabharata @sundaralekhan
tagging me mates: @hindumyththoughts @ambidextrousarcher @kiriti-savyasachin
and event mod @allegoriesinmediasres
edit and poem by me
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khudrang · 2 years
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rozay ke zarra zarra shavad, ustakhan-e-man
ba shad hanoz dar dil-e-veesham hava e tou
-Amir Khusrau
when my bones are nothing but shattered bits may my heart carry on its quest of Thee
source
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khudrang · 4 months
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The plasticine blades move in an obsequious circle; the wings of a man-made butterfly. A beam of light penetrates the space and deposits itself onto this shuttering circumference, it being from a ball of fire as circular as the axial rotation. The blades seem to slice through the beam, but to no avail; it remains as solid as the will of Prometheus, bringing those flames akin to mankind, striving to bring man closer to the gods. It angered them, made them burn like woodfire, and they punished Prometheus for this transgression, for they knew, a transfer of knowledge means a transfer of divinity. The skies above hold the superlatives, and can be accessed by no mortal. But a longing must be fostered, strata must be established, distinctions must be made, for without them, the gods are rendered futile, lost and obsolete. So they send their soldier called Morpheus, who visits the puny mortals time to time, and churns out a show reel of Paradise- a illusion of a geography, where the feasts replenish themselves, the streams mirror crystals, and the only war present is that between the Sun and Mother Earth, the former throwing tantrums about setting into a slumber, and letting his sister have her playtime with the surrealist vapours prancing against the blue, yellow, orange, red, or was it black? backdrop. He instills these images in the meager, mortal minds, and lulls them to a place that exists nowhere but in their imaginations. 
And so the mortal opens his eyes, and looks up at the sunlight in his room across the ceiling fan, run by electricity, a modern man-made miracle. The gods never wanted them to have fire, yet they have discovered heat of a superior utility and efficiency. Why, then, was the primitive Paradise the ultimate desire?
A gust of wind shut the door and the room succumbed to darkness. He listens to the dance of the leaves outside, rustling in a rhythm, their paternal figures smashing into the electric wires above. It was then that he understood; Paradise is not a place, it is a man’s longing not to be man. 
-destiny
(prose and moodboard by me)
(all image credits to their respective owners on tumblr)
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khudrang · 1 year
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Both of us, the product of our circumstances
Both of us, the product of our impulses
Both of us, the bearers of expectations
Both of us, the flames in our fathers’ eyes
Both of us, tormented by the fate of the Five
Both us, harbingers of their desolation
Both of us, trying to weave our paths,
Both of us, powerless to His wills (and especially His whims)
Both of us, born out of Divine necessity
Both of us, dead because of pure mortality
Both of us, stubborn as Yama’s bull
Both of us, bowing down to his design
Yes, indeed, it was the both of us
But, tell me so, wasn’t it all of us?
-destiny
for Havan, Day 3, "Relationship"
Rivals: Duryodhana and Draupadi
wanted to draw on the similarities between them bc i haven't seen it done often
tagging event mod: @chaanv @agnisuta
and the besties: @hindumyththoughts @ambidextrousarcher @kiriti-savyasachin
edit and poem by me
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khudrang · 1 year
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The face that launched a thousand ships,
A beauty so divine it drove the gods to madness
His eyes resemble daffodils, bright and alluring
Lips like the diagonal of a rose
But what is that I see?
Why has dew set upon the petals, o fairest of all?
Why, you ask? Why, I shall tell
Of what avail are these velvety palms, if they are to launch harm towards my brethren
Of what avail are these twinkling eyes, if they are to witness the spilling of the domestic red
Of what avail is this luscious mane, if they are to be matted under the metallic armour
Of what avail are these bee-stung lips, if they are to make utterances of mortal termination
Of what avail are these rugged arms, if they are to carry lifeless shells to their ultimate haven
Of what avail are these stallion legs, if they are to be sat idly atop a spent equestrian accessory
Of what avail, o Dear One, is this celestial form, if it is fated to be responsible for the disfigured in this realm
-destiny
for Havan, Day 8 , "Pandava"
Modern AU for Nakula, the most handsome of the Five
tagging event mod: @chaanv @agnisuta
and the ride or dies: @hindumyththoughts @ambidextrousarcher @kiriti-savyasachin
edit, poem, and playlist by me
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khudrang · 2 years
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flowers in a bazaar
by me
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khudrang · 2 years
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aashna dard se hona tha kisi taur hamein
tuu na milta toh kisi aur se bichdey hote
-Nasir Kazmi
alas, it was my fate to be acquainted with grief
if not you, I would be parted from another
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khudrang · 2 years
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a promo
2nd picture text reads:
chadh gayi saans jhuk gayi nazre,
rang rukhsaar mein simat aaya
zikr sun kar meri muhabbat ka
itne baithe the, kaun sharmaya
-Jaun Elia
(a breath was hitched, eyes casted down
a flush of colour ran to the cheeks
upon hearing me mention my love
who was found shrouding in shyness, out of all that were present)
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