SP

My brother’s friend lives in Chicago and usually plays loud music. His neighbours specially google translated and posted this note stating Hindu values on his door. Americans are something else. 😂😂

Indians who wanted our government to get involved in this clown show between us israel iran and pakistan are ret@rded.

I wonder what IQ level do those Indians have who mock Indian PM by saying "war rukwa di paw paw" but are readily accepting that Pakistani PM brokered peace between Iran and USA

“You’re absolutely right. I meant left”

Japan and Germany were devastated during WW2 Their children didn’t become terrorists Stop making excuses for terrorists.

Two countries starts fighting anywhere in world Indian Students to Indian govt:

Every word in this tweet has a twist 😂😂

I was in same coach. This person is lying, he was touching a fellow passenger who is minor girl inappropriately. Which was noticed by other passengers and they beaten him up. Informed police too. Once police came he started religion card. Me being a Muslim i beat him twice with chappal So it is not related to Muslim

They steal Haldi Doodh and sells it as ‘turmeric latte’, They steal our leaf pattals and repackages them as ‘green tableware’. they steal our Ekadasi fasting and repackages it as ‘system detox’. They steal pranayama and calls it cardiac coherence breathing, now the new term is Medicinal smoke which we have been doing Homas for thousands of years !

They have discovered a paper by Indian scientists that first explored the effects of Dhoop & Havan on air borne pathogens. A finding ridiculed by colonized Indians then. Now the west have their own paper inspired by Indian scientists, am sure, and soon we will have "Sammy's smoke method" to purify indoor air with chemical isolates from cow dung and frankincense (सांब्राणी). The "Greek Yoghurt is so much better than hung Desi dahi" Colonized Indian losers will buy and use it for $$$.

If you click “no” you get a private invite to the next White House party

I think Instagram has become the single biggest source of human unhappiness among all social media apps.

Is there a protein powder safe for pregnant women that is also diabetes friendly? Most sugar free proteins available in the market have maltodextrin in them, causing opposite of what is needed.

can never forgive islam & can never get indian women who support islam in any sense. how can you support an idealogy, that is against your existence.

This is the man the entire left wing is asking bail for! Let that sink in.

This is the height of the human experience...

Do you know the significance of the mantra being recited? This is the essence for a Vaidik Nation, symbolising that this act is the first step towards reviving Aryavarta. Mantra is - आ ब्रह्म॑न् ब्राह्म॒णो ब्र॑ह्मवर्च॒सी जा॑यता॒मा रा॒ष्ट्रे रा॑ज॒न्यः] शूर॑ऽइष॒व्योऽतिव्या॒धी म॑हार॒थो जा॑यतां॒ दोग्ध्री॑ धे॒नुर्वोढा॑न॒ड्वाना॒शुः सप्तिः॒ पुर॑न्धि॒र्योषा॑ जि॒ष्णू र॑थे॒ष्ठाः स॒भेयो॒ युवास्य यज॑मानस्य वी॒रो जा॑यतां निका॒मे नि॑कामे नः प॒र्जन्यो॑ वर्षतु॒ फल॑वत्यो न॒ऽओष॑धयः पच्यन्तां योगक्षे॒मो नः॑ कल्पताम्॥ Yajurveda 22,22 It means - O Supreme consciousness, in our great nations, may the Brahmins (Scholars) attain the wisdom of Vedas, may our Kshatriyas (Warriors) be fearless and destroyer of our enemies. May we have plenty of cows nourishing us, may we have enough resources to drive our nation forward. May our women excel in evey field. May our youth be intelligent, active and successful. In our nation, may we have brave men. May the coulds bring rain, may the foods grown here be nourishing for us. May we as a nation achieve whatever is good for us. This mantra is really beautiful.

On the night of May 20, 2025, a little girl in a faded pink frock fell asleep on her mother’s lap at Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus. Her parents, simple people from Solapur, had come to Mumbai for her father’s treatment. They were exhausted. Just for a moment, the mother closed her eyes. When she opened them, her daughter was gone. Six months. Six months of walking from police station to police station. Six months of showing the same crumpled photograph to strangers on trains, in slums, in orphanages. Six months of the father not sleeping, the mother not eating, both of them growing hollow-eyed, whispering the same name into the dark: “Aarohi… Aarohi…” In Varanasi, a thousand kilometres away, a tiny girl with no memory of her real name was learning to call herself “Kashi.” She had been found crying near the railway tracks in June, barefoot and terrified. The orphanage gave her food, a bed, and a new name. She smiled easily, because children always do, but sometimes at night she clutched the edge of her blanket and asked for “Aai” — Marathi for mother — and no one understood. Back in Mumbai, the police refused to close the file. They printed posters with Aarohi’s face, stuck them on every platform from Lokmanya Tilak Terminus to Bhusawal to Varanasi Cantt. They ran newspaper ads, knocked on doors, begged journalists for help. Six months is a long time for hope to stay alive, but some officers carried her photograph in their shirt pockets like it was their own child. Then, on November 13, a local reporter in Varanasi saw the poster. Something clicked. He had seen a girl who spoke Marathi words in her sleep. He made a phone call. The next morning, a Mumbai Police inspector sat in front of a laptop in Varanasi and opened a video call. On the screen appeared a little girl in a pink frock — the same colour she was wearing the day she vanished. The mother, standing behind the officer in Mumbai, saw her daughter and collapsed without a sound. The father just kept repeating, “That’s my Aarohi… that’s my baby…” They flew her back on Children’s Day — November 14. When the plane landed, the entire Mumbai Crime Branch was waiting. They had bought her balloons and a new frock, sky blue this time. But the moment the little girl stepped out and saw the sea of khaki uniforms, she did something no one expected. She ran. Not away — toward them. Tiny legs pumping, arms outstretched, she threw herself at the nearest officer and laughed — the purest, clearest laugh that had been missing from the world for half a year. The officer, a tough man who had seen everything, felt his eyes burn. He lifted her high, and she wrapped her arms around his neck like he was family. Her parents were crying too hard to walk. So the policemen carried their daughter to them. The mother touched her face again and again, as if checking she was real. The father fell to his knees and pressed his forehead to his child’s tiny feet, sobbing words no one could understand except God. And the little girl? She just kept smiling, looking from her parents to the officers and back again, completely unaware that she had turned an entire police station into a sobbing, laughing, praying family. Six months of darkness ended in one hug. Aarohi is home now. The kidnapper is still out there, but that is tomorrow’s fight. Today, a mother is singing lullabies again. Today, a father is smiling in his sleep. And somewhere in Mumbai, there are policemen who will never forget the weight of a four-year-old girl in their arms — the weight of an entire life returned. Sometimes the uniform doesn’t just catch thieves. Sometimes it carries lost children all the way back to their mothers’ hearts.

the transition from hanuman bgm to Rama bgm is😭😭💉 @mmkeeravaani 🛐 #Varanasi

The best way to use Twitter will forever be as an observer.