I Think Everything I've Done In Life Has Been In An Effort To Be Loved More

a girl of fear, a woman of anger— look how we've grown

The Mughals were conquerors, not colonizers, and equating them to the British is ahistorical at best. The Mughals settled in India, made it their home, and integrated into its cultural and political fabric, even if their rule was far from perfect. They built monuments like the Taj Mahal and Red Fort, not as gifts to the locals, but as symbols of their power—just as Hindu kings built temples and palaces for their own glory. Yes, Aurangzeb reimposed the jizya and destroyed temples, but let’s not pretend this was unique to the Mughals; Hindu rulers also destroyed rival religious sites when it suited their political agendas. The British, however, were true colonizers—they exploited India’s resources to enrich themselves, treated Indians as subhuman, and left the economy in ruins. The Mughals may have been flawed rulers, but they were part of India’s story; the British were extractive outsiders who never saw India as anything more than a cash cow. To conflate the two is to ignore the nuances of history and reduce it to a simplistic, politically convenient narrative.

Not another post whining about why “mUgHaLs WeRe nOt cOlOnizErs” like girl, they were literally foreign invaders who forced you to speak their language, broke your temples, tried eradicating your culture and collected zizya taxes motivated by religious bigotry in hopes of forcing your people to convert! At least have some shame and consideration for your ancestors.

ON THAT ONE PARTICULAR BRAND OF URBAN LONELINESS

Nigel Van Wieck, Aron Wiesenfeld, Mitski, Holly Warburton, Maïté Grandjouan

I really don't understand how this is "hinduphobia", I have not demeaned anyone. I've grown up in a "brahmin" Hindu household. In addition, never did I once compare and came to the conclusion that one is worse than the other.

Yes, muslim rulers have destroyed temples, and this is a well-documented aspect of medieval Indian history though temple destruction was not unique to any one religion or dynasty; it was often a political tool used by rulers across faiths to assert dominance, punish rivals, or consolidate power.

Hindu rulers were no strangers to the art of destruction when it served their purposes. The Cholas, those celebrated patrons of grandeur, happily razed Chalukyan temples and Buddhist viharas in Sri Lanka when dominance was on the menu. King Harsha of Kashmir, ever the pragmatist, treated temples as personal banks, stripping them bare to fund his ambitions—because why let piety stand in the way of power? The Marathas, often painted as paragons of Hindu virtue, didn’t hesitate to target rival temples in Karnataka, proving that even the devout have a flair for hypocrisy. And the Vijayanagara Empire, while busy building architectural marvels, found time to demolish mosques during their wars with the Bahmani Sultanate.

Not another post whining about why “mUgHaLs WeRe nOt cOlOnizErs” like girl, they were literally foreign invaders who forced you to speak their language, broke your temples, tried eradicating your culture and collected zizya taxes motivated by religious bigotry in hopes of forcing your people to convert! At least have some shame and consideration for your ancestors.

i made an alt where i ramble even more thank you very much

unfortunately, to my parents’ disapproval, the one thing i truly dream of is having a home. i know i am supposed to dream big and “shatter the glass ceiling," and i do, but really, this is as close to my heart. i don't imagine the number of rooms and how big or small the house is, but i do dream about the sunlight coming through the windows, the quiet summer afternoons in the courtyard, the plants and flowers that are to be grown, along with the groceries to be bought. i dream of a gentle life with my beloved, where there will be no slamming of doors and neither of us will go to sleep with quiet resentment in our hearts that grows every day. i'll be able to hear the laughter of the children playing down the street, reverberating off the walls, and tell them stories—from the undying devotion between two lovers to the ventures of the fellow knight—while drinking tea on which too much money was spent for sugar, which leaves ring marks on the kitchen table. i dream of the books that are to be read, which will adorn every shelf and corner, and the paintings that are to be hung.

My loved ones are always welcome, irrespective of whether they want company, help, or words of kindness during trying times. i dream of the mehfils that are to be held, the ghazals that will be sung, and the shayeris that are to be recited. there will be winter nights spent huddled around the fire with my friends, where the courtyard will witness us dreaming aloud and revisiting old jokes. there'll be new recipes i'll learn, cupcakes i will bake, a favorite song i'll hum, and movies i'll watch. after all, some dreams are not about leaving legacies or achieving success in boardrooms; they do not call for applause, shine under spotlights, or get remembered in the pages of history. some of mine are more fragile, steadier—ones that have the comfort of a voice that calls for dinner, the creak of familiar wooden floors, the smell of fresh bread and candles of jasmine, with the last note of the serenade lingering in the air.

i sometimes forget that this is everyone’s first time on earth too. like. this is my first time seeing a butterfly this color. but its that little girl’s first time seeing any butterfly, ever. and i accidentally left a bag of groceries at the store after paying and now i’m cursing under my breath and it’s like. there a thousand other people out there who did that today too. and a thousand more from yesterday. and. like. we’re not actually alone. and we’re not actually failing. at least not in a way that a few billion people haven’t before you

liking people who live in the same city as you is so weird like i passed the flyover that connects our homes you made fun of me for not knowing it and now i do and you probably live here somewhere and i want to click a picture and send it to you and be like look!!! it's the colorful cable bridge near your house!!!! but i can't. because we don't fucking talk anymore 😭

PLEASE SPREAD AND HELP!

Ghada's campaign on GoFundMe has had it's transfers paused without cause. She relies greatly on donations to survive and now she is in desperate need of support. These are her words. Please donate and share.

Hello, I'm Ghada Mhasen, 20 years old, mother of a child born in war. She married shortly before the war and became pregnant a month before the war. The war came and killed my joy with my pregnancy and marriage, as we were forced to leave our house and flee. I left my belongings and things behind. I couldn't take anything. It was a difficult period with great difficulty. We found a tent to shelter my husband and me, because we had nothing. No one helped us. We tried to manage our affairs with the simplest and least things, but we also had to flee again, as we fled to Rafah. I heard the news of my house bombing and it was shocking news for me because it was all we had. My condition deteriorated and I was afraid for my unborn baby. Time passed and we tried to manage our affairs, but we almost died of hunger and almost lost my child, but thank God he remained fine. We continued to be displaced and our condition worsened. My husband and I were very tired until we visited Khan Yunis for the last time. It's time for me to have children and be born in a tent, a contaminated tent. There was no medical supplies. My condition was critical, but thanks to God, my child and I survived. Now I can't provide for his basic needs. We put below zero. I have now resorted to creating a Chuffed account to ask for help from you. Please help me, please. We need a tent to accommodate us from the winter and the needs of my child. We need food and drink. We need medicine. My husband worked hard to provide the simplest things for us, but while he was working, a wall fell on him and broke his foot. Now there's no way to help us live except for this donation link. Please save us. Please, every donation is important. It would have saved us from war, hunger and cold. We are not in one war. We are in three wars: the war of Zionism, the war of hunger and the war of cold. I ask you to save us. Every donation, up to $20, will save us from these wars. I am now living in a cloth that covers four sides without a roof. If winter really comes, we will die. Save us. Thank God, now after the end of the war, we are still living a very difficult life. I still can't provide for my child's needs or provide any of our needs from eating and drinking, even water with difficulty, we bring it. We always wait for any help to come to us, but unfortunately, my child does not come, he is exposed to a lot of infections because of the bad Pampers that we use for. I just want to provide what is necessary. I want to ensure a good life for him most of the time. It's rainy, uninhabitable tent. We always sink. I hope you to help us if in $50, please sympathize with us and my child. I trust you and thank you.

Chuffed

Help Ghada and her family rebuild their lives

Hello, I'm Ghada Mhasen, 20 years old, mother of a child born in war. She married shortly before the war and became pregnant a month before