#Indian dad

[sosuigeneris]

girls, i signed up for a pole dancing workshop. Let’s collectively pray that my Desi father doesn’t find out.

It’s a one day workshop, scheduled for next Sunday. It’s meant to be a group class in my area and I’m curious to see what it would be like. Apparently you require a lot of core strength to be on the pole!

I’ve decided that I’m a very boring person.

Why am I boring person?

Because I have no stories to tell.

Why do I not have stories to tell?

Because I don’t have a life.

If I had a life, I would go out, meet interesting people or having interesting hobbies. This year, I’m going to become the most interesting version of myself. I’m going to learn the art of story telling and learn how to make even the most mundane incident into an exciting story for people to listen to and y’all are my testing ground so be ready for lots of stories from me. I’m going to experience lots of new things for myself, my brain, my peace of mind and my soul.

-cherry 🍒

[kunaljainblog]

नया साल ओर नयी प्रेरणा “restart”

नये साल पे कुछ लिखने की सोच रहा था। अचानक मन किया कोई नयी हिन्दी मूवी देख लेते है फिर लिखेंगे। मनोज की कहानी हॉटस्टार पे देखी। वाक़ई में क्या फ़िल्म बनाई है। पूरी फ़िल्म देखते वक़्त पता नहीं कितनी बार मेरे आँखों में आंसू उतरे। नाम से ऐसा लगता था कि शायद मेरी कहानी हों। में भी १२ वी में फेल हुआ था। पिताजी की ज़िद थी इंजीनियर बनूँ , विषय बदला ओर बड़ी मुश्किल से आर्ट्स में ग्रेजुएशन हो पाई। दिल्ली…

[youaremysunshine-court]

Hi we did it

[causereyna-artie]

Just incase you're having a bad day, I want you to know that in some universe Fleamont Potter is probably throwing it back Desi drunk dad style at a jegulus wedding

[bucephaly]

It's kinda shocking to me how few people seem to know how prevalent the 'my great grandmother was cherokee' myth is and how it's almost never actually true, especially when it comes with things like 'never signed up' or 'fell off the trail' or 'courthouse burned down destorying the documentation' etc etc.

People just don't even seem to know the history like.. when the Trail happened. My great great great grandfather was 2 years old during Removal in 1838, so peoples 'my great grandmother hid in the mountains!' is so clearly wrong. And we have rolls. From before and after removal, rolls done by cherokee nation and others by the government, rolls that were not stored in one random flammable courthouse. It's not difficult to find the actual evidence of ancestry.

And just.. there are lots of ways those family stories get started. It was a practice during the confederacy to claim cherokee ancestry to show one's family had 'deep roots in the south' that they were there before the cherokee were removed. Many people pretended to be cherokee and applied for the Guion-Miller payout just to try to steal money meant for cherokees - 2/3rds of the applicants were denied for having 0 proof of actual cherokee ancestry. [We even see lawyers advertising signing up for the Miller roll just to try to get free money.] And the myth even started in some families in the cherokee land lotteries, where the land stolen from us was raffled off, including the house and everything that was left behind when the cherokees were removed. We have seen people whose families just take these things stolen from the cherokee family and adopt them into their own family story, saying that they were cherokee themselves.

If you had some family story about being cherokee and you wanna have proof one way or the other, check out this Facebook group run by expert cherokee genealogists that do research for free. Just please read the rules fully and respect the researchers. They run thousands of people's ancestries a year and their average is only around 0.7% of lines they run actually end up having true cherokee ancestry.

[seonne]

"Your Barbie!"

"Grandpapa! Grandpapa!"

The pitter patter of tiny feet on the wooden floors caused a small smile to form on Masaru's face as he folded up the newspaper he was reading to be greeted by his very smiley and energetic granddaughter. She put up her tiny little arms and made grabby hands at him, successfully melting his heart enough to pick her up and put her on his lap.

"What is it, Erica?"

The 5 year old grinned widely as she leaned on her grandfather's lap.

"Grandpapa! Mumma told me to tell you that- ... that.... um..."

Her voice trailed off as her eyes darted back and forth around the room.

"That.... um...."

Masaru snickered softly.

"Did you forget, sweetheart?-"

"NO! I remember! She told me to tell you that... um..."

She put up her chubby little hand to his face and looked away with a serious frown.

"I can remember it..."

"Yes you can, sweetie. Think harder, I'm sure you'll remember."

The little girl thought for a few more seconds before jumping off her grandpa's lap.

"Wait! I'll be right back!" And she zoomed out of the living room to the backyard. Mere seconds later, she came hurtling back with the biggest grin.

"I remember! Mummy told me to tell you that Papa said he got you barbie ready!"

Masaru raised an eyebrow at her.

"My barbie?"

"Yeah! Your barbie! It smells delicious!"

Masaru looked at Erica and blinked at her before the smell from the backyard reached him.

"Oh you mean barbecue!"

The toddler grinned.

"Yes! Your barbie!"

Masaru chuckled as he picked up Erica and brought her to the backyard.

"Thank you for calling me, Erica."

Her tiny arms wrapped around his neck.

"I love you, grandpapa."

He pressed a kiss to her temple as they stepped outside, where Katsuki, Mitsuki and you were plating up the barbecue you had grilled. He smiled, sighing contentedly.

"I love you too, sweetheart..."

Thank you for reading everybody! Please comment if you liked and let me know if you have any requests. Visibly, I'm quite free right now, so don't leave me jobless please-

Regardless! Any likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated! I've seen many creators say that interactions are very sparse and unmotivating and yes, it's true. So, if you liked it, please do leave a note behind! Makes my day, really.

And follow for more updates!

[sandaap12]

Desi hottie with and without clothes series #14

[burgirrrr-rants]

"when little girls can't fix their fathers they will spend the rest of their lives trying to fix their lovers" SICK TO MY STOMACH BRO

[nixcraft]

Me: This butter tastes great. Them: Actually, it’s ghee. Me: Ah, thanks for clarifying.

[valiantstarlights]

Chef Hob's family and the food truck's origin story

Hob is half-English and half-Indian. His father, Mr. Gadling, is from London. His mother, Mrs. Dandekar-Gadling, is from Mumbai. Hob was born in the UK.

Unfortunately, Hob was orphaned at an early age. And since his father had no remaining living relatives, (his paternal grandparents died a long time ago and his father was an only child), Hob was taken in by his maternal uncle's family in Mumbai.

His uncle, Sanyam Dandekar, is the current head of the family-owned and operated restaurant in Mumbai. It's small but thriving, and is well-regarded in the community. As the restaurant is on the ground floor of the building where the Dandekar family live, it's hard to escape the tantalizing smell of food wafting constantly from below.

It's from Sanyam that Hob learns to love food, to cook well, and to love making people happy through his cooking.

His aunt, Priya, always encourages him to go after his dreams. She was there for him every step of the way when he applied for a scholarship to go to a fancy culinary school in the UK. When he was accepted, she was the first person he told the news to, and she was so proud of him that she immediately called up her friends to share the good news with them. (Hob had had to endure maybe half a dozen aunties trying to introduce him to their daughters and nieces.)

His female cousins, Kala and Daya, love Hob very much and treat him as their older brother.

Kala has always been very intelligent even as a child, and she got bullied for it at school. Hob was quick to put an end to that and told her to reach even higher so she can leave everyone in the ground while she sails among the stars. Kala shyly told him she would build a spaceship for their entire family so she wouldn't have to sail the stars alone.

Daya was the more easy-going sister. She tried her best to teach Hob to dance, and never made fun of him even when he eventually accepted that he had two left feet. When she was rejected by a boy who told her she was so ugly that she'll never find anyone who'll love her, Hob got in trouble for beating the shit out of him, but he has no regrets about it. (Kala did not get in trouble for setting the boy's schoolbag on fire because she didn't get caught.)

Hob was so afraid when he found out that he was bisexual, but his family accepted him and treated him the same as they always did. His aunt Priya even promised not to matchmake him with anyone even though he's such a catch. They'll all just wait and see who he brings home. No judgment or pressure whatsoever.

He misses them fiercely when he gets to the UK. Especially when Kala gets married and he couldn't travel back because he had back-to-back exams, both theoretical and practical.

Still, he pushes himself to study hard, graduates with distinction, and eventually becomes a professional chef at a fancy hotel.

Hob's family are very proud of him and always call him to tell him so. Daya begs him to return and cook for them. Hob says he's still saving up enough vacation days. Rajan, Kala's husband and the current CEO of a major pharmaceutical company, offers to pay for his transportation. He graciously accepts because he's not an idiot.

After a couple of years, he finally accumulated enough vacation days to travel back to India for a long visit. The first thing he did is to cook a feast for his family (which now includes Rajan). He cooks traditional Indian food as well as food from other countries that he thinks they'll like.

(He adjusts the recipes to fit into their religion-based dietary restrictions, and adjusts some more when some ingredients are not readily available. He's a professional chef, after all.)

Daya is all about the taiyaki. Kala is in love with the vegetable lumpia. Rajan has strategically rearranged the dishes on the table so the plate of jollof rice is always close to him. Priya asks him to give his uncle his recipe for the vegetable moussaka. Sanyam is in tears because of how proud he is of Hob and how delicious everything is. He tells Hob that when he dies (far, far into the future), Hob is welcome to take over the restaurant.

Hob spends most of his time in India in the restaurant's kitchen with his uncle, and they experiment and add new things to the menu. Hob gets to talk to customers he's known ever since he was a child. They are all very proud of him and sing praises for the restaurant's new menu items.

Hob leaves India a month later with a much lighter heart.

When he returns to being a chef in the fancy hotel though, he finds that he is increasingly frustrated and unsatisfied. He feels like he should be happy and grateful. Instead he feels burned out.

He calls Kala, who is the closest to him age-wise, for advice. She simply asks him, "What do you want?"

He sighs and says, "I thought I wanted to be a chef. But now that I am one, I feel lost."

Silence. Then Kala says, "May I say something potentially controversial and not have you hang up on me?"

Hob chuckles and tells her to go ahead and say what she needs to say. In fact, maybe he needs to hear the potentially controversial thing to snap him out of this wretched state.

"I don't think you really want to be a chef."

Wow. "So far, so bad. Go on."

"No, listen: you have always loved cooking for us. You and dad. It's how you show your love. But where you're working currently, it's like you're a machine. Day in and day out, you're just completing orders. How many times since you started working there did you go out of the kitchen to talk to the guests? How often do you get to experiment with new culinary creations without anyone trying to stifle your creativity?"

Kala's tone implied that she knew the answer. "You might say that it will get worse before it gets better, but will it really? If I ask you now what your happiest memory is of your workplace, what will you tell me?"

"I--" Hob clears his throat and blinks away the tears that had snuck up on him. "When the hotel called me to tell me they had accepted my application. I immediately called home and all of you were so proud of me. I even heard Uncle announcing it to the entire restaurant in the background."

"Oh, Hob..." And now Kala sounded like she was gonna cry too. "I wish I were there so I can give you a hug."

"Virtual hug accepted. Is that the end of your controversial pep talk or is there more?"

"I think that's enough controversial things for now," Kala says. "Rajan and I are going to London in a couple of weeks for pleasure. We should meet up so you can show us all the good spots to eat at and then we can talk more."

They said their goodbyes soon after. Hob spends a lot of time that night just looking at the ceiling, not wanting to go to work but inevitably has to when his alarm goes off.

Kala was right. Being a chef granted him all sorts of qualifications and symbolized that he is a master in the field, but he isn't in it for the title. His uncle isn't a professional chef, yet Hob wouldn't claim to surpass his skills. And between the two of them, he knows who the happier one is.

Rajan and Kala arrived with a couple of bodyguards named Vikram and Wolfgang. Hob remembers them from his visit to India. Vikram is as stoic as bodyguards come, but Wolfgang has a different, more dangerous kind of intensity.

Hob shows them all the good dining spots he has discovered over the years, and all five of them eat well.

It was during their outing that Hob notices the food vendors on the street. They look...happy. They work just as hard as the other chefs in the hotel, with the main difference being that the customers are right in front of them, and they get to see their reactions.

It was very heartwarming to see tourists trying the local street food and seeing their faces light up after their first bite.

At the end of the day, Hob tells Kala of his food truck idea. It's almost embarrassing how excited he sounds, but Kala is excited too. She grabs Rajan and tells him about it. Rajan grabs Wolfgang and asks him about it. Hob almost expects Wolfgang to grab Vikram too, but Vikram just looks on, looking amused.

In the end, Wolfgang shrugs and says it's doable, and just like that, they're drawing plans and trying to come up with names.

("What about 'Gadling's'?"

Kala hummed. "I guess...I mean, that is your name. No one can argue that."

"I feel like you just insulted me, my father, and my paternal ancestors."

"Hob, our family restaurant's name is Dandekar. We are all basic here.")

("Glad Tidings?"

Wolfgang huffed a laugh. "No, Rajan."

"I think it's a good name."

"I think you need to go to sleep. How many hours has it been since you slept? Forty-eight?"

"Are you the sleep police now, my wolf?"

"Kala, I'm taking Rajan to bed."

"Alright," Kala says distractedly. She is currently looking at the kitchen plans, specifically the stove set-up. "Have fun. Don't hog all the blankets."

Hob's eyebrows have migrated to the ceiling. He doesn't think they quite know what they let slip, but he isn't going to pry until they're ready to talk to him about it. He looks at Vikram to see his reaction, but the man just looks like this is a thing that happens often and isn't bothered in the slightest.)

They videocall six people all over the world--mutual friends, Kala says--and all of them put their heads rogether to make Hob's food truck idea into a reality.

Hob is overwhelmed by their support. Rajan has promised to fund everything if Hob lets him eat for free when he's in town. Sun from Korea seconds him and agrees to lend monetary support as well, and to help him expand to Korea if the venture is successful. Capheus, the matatu driver from Nairobi, is flying to London to help customize the food truck. If possible, he sounds even more excited than Hob himself. Nomi from San Francisco and Will from Chicago volunteers to get the papers and forms sorted. Actual famous actor Lito Rodriguez from Mexico promises to promote his foodtruck when he goes to London to shoot a movie.

"When and where did you meet and befriend all these people?" Hob asks Kala. They all sounded like old friends and had inside jokes that Hob didn't understand. (What in the world is a tequila-squared?) Kala just smiles at him and says, "The internet exists for a reason, you know."

"Let me guess," Hob said in a low voice so the others won't hear. "An online dating site?"

Kala shrieks with laughter and hits him with a throw pillow.

Soon, the food truck is ready and Hob is in awe of everyone who pitched in and helped. He literally could not have achieved this so quickly without any of them.

Kala hugs him tight. "You deserve to be happy, Hob."

Hob hugs her back. Every person they videocalled (and Wolfgang's brother Felix) is coming to visit with their plus ones and twos to try out Hob's menu to taste-test before opening, and will stay until the grand opening a week later to help in promoting the foodtruck. They even have Riley from Iceland going to DJ for them.

"Should we invite aunt and uncle and Daya?"

"Do you really think we could stop them if they want to be here?" Kala asks him incredulously. "Have you met our sister?"

Hob has handed in his resignation notice as soon as the food truck's kitchen had been operational. That had been two weeks ago. He feels like a huge burden has been lifted from his shoulders the moment the e-mail was sent.

It can only get better from here.

--

P.S. I'm basic as hell at naming, so if you have ideas on what Hob's food truck should be called, speak now or forever hold your peace.

[ruthlesslistener]

bro how tf are they teaching bio in india because every single indian teacher or tutor ive had for this subject has been fuckin on point for balancing clear answers with a good challenge and a chill vibe about learning what sorta secret bio magic are y'all on

[bitchvinaigrette]

I do love the movies but katniss makes no sense to me as a white person. she simply isn’t white in the books and like…the white author very clearly wrote her to be informed as a person by not being white like the merchant class and how her parents interracial marriage informed their experience of extreme poverty in an area that is prejudiced against people with her racial characteristics and like. that is how she developed her personality and the unique, often unpleasant way she relates to other people??

that kind of energy doesn’t just go away

[drksanctuary]

You know what, fuck it. Desi’s your Alabaster:

[ruskandruskin]

when your dad says “aaj yaha bada khana hai” and you're having karele ki sabzi in dinner <<<

[sandaap12]

Pure Desi Click and pic of the year 😘