Kurulus Osman Season 1 Episode 03 In Urdu| Giveme5 and Kayifamily Kurulus Osman S1 E3 With Urdu/English Subtitles

Kurulus Osman Season 1 Episode 03 In Urdu Kayifamily.com

Assalam o Alikum, dear friends. Here we are uploading "Kurulus Osman Season 1 Episode 03 In Urdu" for you. You can easily Download and Watch "Kurulus Osman Season 1 Episode 03 In Urdu" from here. "Kurulus Osman" is a Muslim historical drama that make us proud at our ancestors. You can increase your faith and proud by watching this. 

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Story Line:

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If men knew how women pass the time when they are alone they'd never marry. 

Laura Lean Jibbed, peanut brittle, a little almond cream on the neck muscles, dishes unwashed, half an hour's talk with the iceman, reading a package of old letters, a couple of pickles and two bottles of malt extract, one hour peeking through a hole in the window shade into the flat across the air shaft - that's about all there is to it. 

Twenty minutes before time for him to come home from work she straightens up the house, fixes her rat so it won't show, and gets out a lot of sewing for a ten-minute bluff. 

I led a dog's life in that flat.

Most all day I lay there in my corner watching the fat woman kill time. 

I slept sometimes and had pipe dreams about being out chasing cats into basements and growling at old ladies with black mittens, as a dog was intended to do. 

Then she would pounce upon me with a lot of that driveling poodle palaver and kiss me on the nose - but what could I do? A dog can't chew cloves. 

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I began to feel sorry for Hubby, dog my cats if I didn't. 

We looked so much alike that people noticed it when we went out; so we shook the streets that Morgan's cab drives down, and took to climbing the piles of last December's snow on the streets where cheap people live. One evening when we were thus promenading, and I was trying to look like a prize St. 

Bernard, and the old man was trying to look like he wouldn't have murdered the. first organ-grinder he heard play Mendelssohn's wedding-march, I looked up at him and said, in my way: 'What are you looking so sour about, you oakum trimmed lobster? She don't kiss you. 

You don't have to sit on her lap and listen to talk that would make the book of a musical comedy sound like the maxims of Epictetus. 

You ought to be thankful you're not a dog. 

Brace up, Benedict, and bid the blues begone.

The matrimonial mishap looked down at me with almost canine intelligence in his face.

Why, dogie,' says he, 'good dogie. 

You almost look like you could speak. 

What is it, dogie - Cats?' Cats! Could speak.

But, of course, he couldn't understand. Humans were denied the speech of animals. The only common ground of communication upon which dogs and men can get together is in fiction. 

In the flat across the hall from us lived a lady with a black-and tan terrier. 

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See, here, Wiggle-and-Skip,' I says, 'you know that it ain't the nature of a real man to play dry-nurse to a dog in public. 

I never saw one leashed to a bow-wow yet that didn't look like he'd like to lick every other man that looked at him. But your boss comes in every day as perky and set up as an amateur prestidigitation doing the egg trick. 

How does he do it? Don't tell me he likes it.

Him?' says the black-and-tan. 'Why, he uses Nature's Own Remedy. 

He gets supplicated. 

At first when we go out he's as shy as the man on the steamer who would rather play Pedro when they make 'em all jackpots. 

By the time we've been in eight saloons he don't care whether the thing on the end of his line is a dog or a catfish. 

I've lost two inches of my tail trying to sidestep those swinging doors.

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 The pointer I got from that terrier - vaudeville please copy - set me to thinking. One evening about six o'clock my mistress ordered him to get busy and do the ozone act for Lovey. 

I have concealed it until now, but that is what she called me. The black-and-tan was called 'Sweetness.

I consider that I have the bulge on him as far as you could chase a rabbit. Still 'Lovey' is something of a nomenclature tin-can on the tail of one's self-respect.

 At a quiet place on a safe street I tightened the line of my custodian in front of an attractive, refined saloon.

 I made a dead-ahead scramble for the doors, whining like a dog in the press dispatches that lets the family know that little Alice is bogged while gathering lilies in the brook.

Why, darn my eyes,' says the old man, with a grin; 'darn my eyes if the saffron-colored son of a seltzer lemonade ain't asking me in to take a drink. Lemme see - how long's it been since I saved shoe leather by keeping one foot on the footrest? I believe I'll - ' I knew I had him. Hot Scotches he took, sitting at a table. 

For an hour he kept the Campbell coming. 

I sat by his side rapping for the waiter with my tail, and eating free lunch such as mamma in her flat never equaled with her homemade truck bought at a delicatessen store eight minutes before papa comes home. 

When the products of Scotland were all exhausted except the rye bread the old man unwound me from the table leg and played me outside like a fisherman plays a salmon. Out there he took off my collar and threw it into the street.

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