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imagine Harman and mithali but in a more negative way—it’s not a relationship but it’s about a girl looking at her idol and realising she is only human.

like, harman idolising this woman, who is known to be lady tendulkar, and has all these qualities that harman wishes she had. all calm and serene and cool.

but then come the losses and her constant comparison to men and harman sees the real woman, the one behind the idol one, the anger and the frustration to be called lady Tendulkar and not mithali raj. her need to be the best, her anger at being beaten, her anger at not being enough, her anger at not winning and her anger at being surpassed, perhaps, by harman.

harman is so different to mithali, that's what harman thinks. she sees mithali struggling and she grows outside of her idol. mithali likes her till harman is in her shadows. but then harman is coming out of them. making her own name. bringing that aggression. and mithali starts favouring smriti. because smriti is like mithali. 'a man will die but not his ideas' and mithali wants smriti to live with her ideas.

and, harman, who starts realising that mithali is not going to favour her anymore, stops expecting the praise that mithali had once showered on her. she is hell-bent on making her own name. hell-bent on showing her aggression, showing that she won't be pushed, that she'll change the game. she is building her own legacy and mithali, who has been the whole of it once, is barely a shadow in it now. so there comes mithali's withdrawal.

and then harman wins the world cup. mithali is standing there and she is clapping. mithali didn't want to come down, didn't want to meet harman. harman doesn't know if it's because mithali was ashamed of herself or was it because she hated seeing harman achieving what she couldn't. but then she sees the smile. sees the pride. sees the unshed tears at seeing the trophy finally belonging to the nation that had not been kind to her. and she is giving the trophy to mithali, offering it to her, and seeing the smile so bright on that face, of running away from the legacy, of trying so hard to make herself believe that she wasn't like mithali, only to realise that mithali was a part of her. a part of the game they played. a part of who they were.

mithali is everywhere. that's the thing. harman tries so hard to escape it, escape the legacy of the great before her, but at the end of the day, she is her successor. mithali has passed the crown to her. willingly or unwillingly. and no apple falls far from the tree.

mithali is in her, not just smriti, harman stands in front of the mirror, and sees mithali standing behind her.

once it was a ghost, haunting her, and now it's her light, guiding her.

i also think harman might have had the thought to be haughty, to show it off in mithali's face, to taunt her after all the times mithali had doubted her. but then, when she does look around, and sees mithali standing in a corner, just so proud, she can't. as if all of it didn't mean anything anymore because harman looks and realises that they are moulded of the same clay. they are the pots of the same clay. they were all fighting for the same glory.

‘there might be no trophy without harman but there would be no harman without mithali'

Are we actually serious here??

poem by @childofthenight2035 // dialogue from sanchaaram (2004) // salutation, writing by childofthenight2035 // krishna, nee enne ariyilla, by sugathakumari // renuka, by murukan kattakada // dialogue from sanchaaram (2004)

photos taken from sanchaaram/the journey (2004). additional information below.

Everyone brings a dish to share. A table full of endless choices stands before you. Some dishes are labeled correctly, others arnt. Some are extra spicy so read notes and tags about the dishes.

But as you go down the table, you have the choice for what you put on your plate. Don't pick up the pasta if you're gluten-free. Avoid the stew if you don't like onions.

You have a choice again when you sit down and take a bite. Was the tater tot casserole not really what you wanted anymore? Cool, stop eating it.

Fandom is a potluck and you have a choice to not consume the things you don't like. You don't get a choice over what others bring to the potluck. You don't get to police others for what they want to eat either.

Don't be mad that we brought egg salad when you hate it. You're the one that is forcing yourself to eat it when we told you exactly what it is.

Don't like something? Don't put it on your plate and eat it. You do not get to be a bully and be mad that someone brought it and someone else likes it.

The fandom isn't all about you and your likes. We don't have to cater to you.

If people are songs,

Written in major or minor keys,

Then you,my dear,are major.

- Our infinite fates by Laura Steven

also i know dravid was the prettiest thing back in the day but it still smacks me in the face sometimes

the madness vase, by andrea gibson // unknown quote // quote by clive barker // the wrath and the dawn, by renee ahdieh // portrait of fryderyk in shifting light, by richard siken // brutal, by andrea cohen // the third hour of the night, by frank bidart // bright dead things: poems, by ada limón // anna karenina, by leo tolstoy // sons of belial, by lola ridge // that's her, by georgiou music // the black swan, by nochi oskolkya

pictures taken from black swan (2010), and bts' black swan music video. photos by @corvusinfernus :))