#raj
My name is Umrao Jaan. I am a Tawaif, an Indian Classical Dancer, Singer
My other names are Saheb e jaan, Nargis, and Anarkali, many names I have
I am trained in fine arts like classical dancing and music by ustaads or teachers
My work was to entertain kings, noblemen and wealthy patrons who visited my court.
My court is known as a kotha in the Hindi Language, my residence and workplace
Here I reside with my family, my sisters in trade and our fellow musicians.
We are financially well off, but what we yearn for, love and respect, we do not get
Trained as artists who entertain kings and nobility, we are sadly now disrespected
Our services now are desired not for their true value but to satisfy desires.
The desires of wealthy men who treat us as concubines but will never respect us
Sadly, the nobility and value of our profession have been eroded completely now.
This erosion started with the British Raj when they colonised India
They never valued our services and degraded us to the level of vaishyas(prostitutes)
The evil that men do lives on after them, and the good they do is buried in their bones
Even after India gained independence, the cultural values of the Tawaifs were never restored
It died with the end of the reign of Akbar, Shah Jahan and other Mughal kings
May 25, 2025
May 25, 2025 at 4:19 AM UTC
His eyes blue green
His body Roddy
His hands distinctive
Arms strongest than pillars of marble
His hair reddish blonde
His manners unforgettable
His smile stunning
His private vessel redish too
His feet huge
His Adam leaf just right
His ancestry Irish
His heart pure gold
His soul my own
His twin soul twin flame
my very own
His voice strong masculine deep.
Soprano.
His passion wet a stallion perfectly shaped all rapture is
My voice his soprano pride
My thighs his madness
His anger his silence I fall in love.
His true loving heart my own.
His physic athletic muscular HE- MAN type body
His hight 5'8
His wealth my own
His jewels my children
His diamonds my tears my tears his diamonds his Rubies his poems.
His sonnet 75 his treasures buried for me to know his love is true
His heartbreak my own
His goals my own
His first love is me
His love making supernovae
My smile his 20 million hurried loot worth fame and great fortune.
My Knight my all
My sheikh my king of hearts
My body his pleasure his desire
My hair dark ashy moon glow over cedar- brown
My eyes vitreous reflecting colors of nature, starry looking eyes
My voice his soprano pride
My thighs his madness
My DNA his own
My height 5'4
My feet 8-1/2-9
My heart of gold his own.
My talent his own
My joy and happiness
my own
My song his delight his lyric rights
My first love him patpat
My love.
Our marriage license sleeps.
Our book; We are the authors
of our own lives and destiny..
What Dreams may come
Gone with the wind
Message in a bottle.
E. T. Phone home.
Scarlett letter A
Countless written memories.
.
Favorite places stargazing under the stars.
Boat rides waves rocking our love away.
Lover is PatRk imaginary ancient
True love.My E T.
Knight yes one King of hearts RD-present here soon.
~~~
By: Karijinbba, all rights.
Dec 25, 2023
Dec 25, 2023 at 7:09 AM UTC
in quarantine locked is the mind
never free,
when the body enslaved
you think,
you are free to dispute
this contention
or so you think...
*but when you write of your current condition,
understand you’ve lost in thinking winning
the body|mind a single singularity, so
when you smack your head against the Fifth wall,
desperate to believe, concede to conceive that
no in Hindi, same in any language, caged body
is pleased to misdirect, dress up yes, but my elder
wisdom, has read Monte Cristo, and no matter how
you count, until free in both organs,*
you can’t count as far as 1,
the nomenclature of unity.*
May 11, 2020
May 11, 2020 at 11:19 AM UTC
The Classic (Horror)
*********************
You dumb
Don't know how to do this?
You fool
Don't know what it is?
You ********
You don't know anything
Waste of a life
I wondered if
I'm good for at least eating.
He's your master
And THAT is his masterpiece
What have you got to show?
Go to him again.
Wait till he ratify you
My father brainwashed
Determined, I went back to the sir
I want to have my masterpiece
And soon I did have
My masterpiece
Not one.
Not two.
But many.
MASTERPIECES!!!
Since then
My master wasn't seen
By none
Any doubts?
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 11:59 AM UTC
I saw a lady,
In streets of daisy,
With her bright beauty.
Looking like a lily,
Walking like fairy,
And gorgeous face she carry.
Glamour in her face,
Princess in style.
Had pearl like eye,
With kindness like tie.
Shown her beautified love,
Straight haters become curve.
I asked her name
To make her fame.
"No name" said she,
Maybe she is glee.
She is like tree,
Serves everyone for free.
Devil also try,
To make this flower dry.
But never she cry.
To teach, she try
Never laugh at they
As everyone is infinite sky.
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 10:37 PM UTC