lotus-eyes:

pyotra:

SUMMER IN G0A 2001 ESSENTIALS: A MIX

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

1) sabah - ya tayr ettayer ello
2) swarnalatha - akadanu naanga
3) yassmin - shaklak hatouwhachni 
4) alisha chinai - vah vah vah
5) sean paul - i’m still in love with you (ft. sasha)
6) ayshay - warn-u 
7) sunidhi chauhan & kailash kher - jhuki jhuki
8) alka yagnik - dilbar dilbar
9) danity kane - show stopper (instrumental)
10) assi el helani - ya naker el ma3roof
11) nina sky - move ya body
12) anand raj anand & kalpana patowary - uncha lamba kad
13) lake r△dio - chant II
14) alka yagnik & udit narayan - ankhiyan milaon kabhi 
15) zion - fantasma
16) k.k. - dil nashin dil nashin
17) meriam fares - la tesalny 
18) nancy ajram - sheikh el shabab
19) sunidhi chauhan - baras ja badal
20) n.o.r.e. - oye mi canto (feat. nina sky)
21) hakim & olga tañon - ah ya albi

* ~ * ~ * ~ * 

For + conceptualized by spring1999, featuring arabic pop, 90/2000s hindi pop, latin fusion hits, & dancehall so u can be a yung n fun tropicale princess + rebel against the stigma placed on “unsophisticated world music”.  

(Source: SoundCloud)

1:35 am  •  19 June 2013  •  408 notes

#officelqqks #whatever #desi #watchingtoomuchzombietv

1:30 am  •  19 June 2013  •  3 notes

“my english is broken.
on purpose.
you
have to try harder to understand
me.
breaking this language
you so love
is my pleasure.
in your arrogance
you presume that i want your skinny language.
that my mouth is building a room for
it
in the back of my throat
it is not.”

— i have seven different words for love, you have one, that makes alot of sense, nayyirah waheed (via nayyirahwaheed)

(via enumerate)

1:15 am  •  19 June 2013  •  1,993 notes

just bought a one way ticket to oakland?! #freakingout 

10:18 am  •  23 May 2013  •  1 note

(Source: getoffmybloghoe, via thetenderestheart)

12:31 am  •  6 May 2013  •  214,403 notes

i should prance around smith like this 

(Source: ssupaman, via kalisherni)

12:30 am  •  6 May 2013  •  104 notes

returnthegayze:

after 9/11 your hindu temple

— that one in small town texas where you

grew up believing in america

and god

and other things bigger than yourself –

made new t-shirts:

american flag printed on the back

“we will never forget 9/11. god bless america”

 

and you wore that shirt to school the next day, made sure it fit just right

like the english on your tongue,

like the bible in your hand,

like the sunscreen behind your ears

and you hoped that its crisp

(white) would distract your classmates from

the terrorist threat of your skin

— that day you woke up

and found that you were

afraid of yourself —

 

and at lunch your (white) classmate asks you

“why your people did this to us”

and you point to your shirt

and you point to your flag

and you point to your god

but these are things that no longer belong to you.

 

and for the first time in your life you

feel i’m not muslim, but…

feel we are not them, we are…

feel brown

 

when they call you a terrorist

you believe them the way you

believe in the cool edge of your father’s razor

as it slices your cheeks —

keep it back,

bleed for your country.

and we are bleeding for your country america:

we, 1501 attacks against people of middle-eastern descent in the US in 2001

we, new york taxi driver stabbed after a passenger asked if he was muslim

we, shaima alwadi beaten in her home “go back to your country, you terrorist”

we, hundreds of thousands of civilians annihilated by your wars (i mean, ego)

we, nine sikh murdered in prayer in wisconsin

 

and how many of us must you deport before you feel white again, america?

and how many of us must you torture before you feel like God again, america?

and how many of us must die before you lower your flags (and remove them from our lands), america?

 

and the democratic national convention was last week

and your president – the one who

visits your temples, and mosques in the US and

burns them across the ocean –

tells you that america is the greatest nation on earth

and you hear them clapping

and it sounds like the gunshots

on the other channel.

 

“God Bless America”

is nothing more than a campaign slogan

and is this your blessing?

and is this your remembrance?

 

and 9/11 is

not over, today your president is flying

drones to pakistan, today your patriots

are raping women in iraq,

but you do not see us, america

our brown bodies, the dirt you must step on in your journey to freedom (propaganda)

our brown bodies, the sand you must wipe out of your eyes for clearer vision (imperialism)

our brown bodies, the shit you must use

to grow your food, your children, your economy (capitalism)

 

and i no longer wear your shirts

and i no longer sing your anthems

and i no longer believe in god (or america, is there a difference?)

 

but i believe in the brown of my skin,

— believe it the way the waiter at the restaurant calls me brother —

the gospel of our people,

(keep it close)

this devotional,

all you have left for us to

cling

on

to

 

God Brown America!

and this is my blessing

and this is our sacrifice

and these are our soldiers

(rest in peace)

(via enumerate)

10:15 am  •  21 April 2013  •  295 notes

46 more days until graduation - thank all the goddesses

get me the fuck away from new england, hippie lesbians, white orientalists, basic bitches, etc. 

1:36 pm  •  3 April 2013  •  2 notes

“counterstorytelling: Take up the white woman’s burden
Screech “oppression” from your neocolonial soapbox
All the world’s women are yours to save
From their own people. Fly in on the back of a drone
Or maybe the white horse of military intervention,
Smiling benevolently,
Offering your “sisterhood” with one hand
As you hold the white man’s hand with the other. Reduce them to the “veil”
And then try to yank it off.
Shower them with birth control, Little pills of “emancipation”,
While their homelands are showered with your bombs.
Women should have the choice, right?
(But only the one’s we give them) Whisper in their ears, the problem is your Islam
Your fathers, your brothers, your husbands,
Your country, your culture, you. The problem is you. Not this treacherous sisterhood,
This fake solidarity,
Not this “War on Terror” that liberates women
by turning their bodies into
COLLATERAL DAMAGE.
Not violence. Not silence.
The problem is you. Divide and conquer
The colonizers knew it well, so do the White liberal feminists.
But in the end, even they don’t win —
Empire does.”

— Veilotics: White women’s burden 

8:08 pm  •  22 March 2013  •  877 notes

“

Not saying Quvenzhané’s name is an attempt, consciously or unconsciously, to step around and contain her blackness. Yes, sometimes black people have names that are difficult to pronounce. There aren’t many people of European descent named Shaniqua or Jamal. Names are as big a cultural marker as brown skin and kinky hair, and there’s long been backlash against both of those things (see: perms, skin bleaching creams, etc.). The insistence on not using Quvenzhané’s name is an extension of that “why aren’t you white?” backlash.

It is easier to be colorblind, to simply turn a blind eye to the differences that have torn this nation apart for centuries than it is to wade through those choppy waters. And Quvenzhané’s very existence is enough to make the societal majority uncomfortable. She is talented, successful, beautiful, happy, loved, and adored–all things that many people don’t figure that little black girls with “black” names could, or should, be. Their answer? Let’s make her more palatable. If she insists on not fitting the mold of the ghetto hoodrat associated with women with “urban” names, let’s take her own urban name away from her.

Refusing to learn how to pronounce Quvenzhané’s name says, pointedly, you are not worth the effort. The problem is not that she has an unpronounceable name, because she doesn’t. The problem is that white Hollywood, from Ryan Seacrest and his homies to the AP reporter who decided to call her “Annie” rather than her real name, doesn’t deem her as important as, say, Renee Zellwegger, or Zach Galifinakis, or Arnold Schwarzenegger, all of whom have names that are difficult to pronounce–but they manage. The message sent is this: you, young, black, female child, are not worth the time and energy it will take me to learn to spell and pronounce your name. You will be who and what I want you to be; you be be who and what makes me more comfortable. I will allow you to exist and acknowledge that existence, but only on my terms.

”

—

Brokey McPoverty, “What’s In A Name? Kind Of A Lot,” PostBourgie 2/26/13 (via racialicious)

CHILE THIS!

(via witchsistah)

so so powerful to read this for someone who (is not black but) also does not have a normative European/white name! thank you for this. 

(via grrlyman)

9:04 pm  •  27 February 2013  •  6,533 notes