Kurulus Osman Season 1 Episode 04 In Urdu Giveme5 and Kayifamily Kurulus Osman S1 E4 Urdu/English Subtitles

Kurulus Osman Season 1 Episode 04 In Urdu Kayifamily.com

Assalam o Alikum, dear friends. We are uploading "Kurulus Osman Season 1 Episode 04 In Urdu" for your entertainment. You can easily Watch or Download "Kurulus Osman Season 1 Episode 04 In Urdu" from here. "Kurulus Osman" is a Muslim historical drama of Turkey. This drama will help you to increase you faith and proud at your ancestors.

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Story Line:

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The policeman was still looking. 

The persecuted young woman had but to beckon a finger and Soapy would be practically en route for his insular haven. 

Already he imagined he could feel the cost warmth of the station-house. 

The young woman faced him and, stretching out a hand, caught Soapy's coat-sleeve. 'Sure, Mike,' she said joyfully, 'if you'll blow me to a pail of suds. 

I'd have spoke to you sooner, but the cop was watching.

With the young woman playing the clinging ivy to his oak Soapy walked past the policeman, overcome with gloom. 

He seemed doomed to liberty. 

At the next corner he shook off his companion and ran. 

He halted in the district where by night are found the lightest streets, hearts, vows and librettos. Women in furs and men in greatcoats moved gaily in the wintry air. 

A sudden fear seized Soapy that some dreadful enchantment had rendered him immune to arrest. 

The thought brought a little of panic upon it, and when he came upon another policeman lounging grandly in front of a transcendental theater he caught at the immediate straw of 'disorderly conduct.

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Disconsolate, Soapy ceased his unavailing racket. Would never a policeman lay hands on him? 

In his fancy the Island seemed an unattainable Arcadia. He buttoned his thin coat against the chilling wind. In a cigar store he saw a well-dressed man lighting a cigar at a swinging light. 

His silk umbrella he had set by the door on entering. Soapy stepped inside, secured the umbrella and sauntered off with it slowly. 

The man at the cigar light followed hastily.

My umbrella,' he said sternly. 'Oh, is it?' sneered Soapy, adding insult to pest larceny. 'Well, why don't you call a policeman? I took it. Your umbrella! Why don't you call a cop? There stands one at the corner.

The umbrella owner slowed his steps. Soapy did likewise, with a presentiment that luck would again run against him. The policeman looked at the two curiously.

Of course,' said the umbrella man - 'that is - well, you know how these mistakes occur - I - if it's your umbrella I hope you'll excuse me - I picked it up this morning in a restaurant - If you recognize it as yours, why - I hope you'll - ' 'Of course it's mine,' said Soapy viciously. The ex-umbrella man retreated. The policeman hurried to assist a tall blonde in an opera cloak across the street in front of a street car that was approaching two blocks away. 

Soapy walked eastward through a street damaged by improvements. 

He hurled the umbrella wrathfully into an excavation. He muttered against the men who wear helmets and carry clubs. 

Because he wanted to fall into their clutches, they seemed to regard him as a king who could do no wrong.

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The conjunction of Soapy's receptive state of mind and the influences about the old church wrought a sudden and wonderful change in his soul.

 He viewed with swift horror the pit into which he had tumbled, the degraded days, unworthy desires, dead hopes, wrecked faculties and base motives that made up his existence. 

And also in a moment his heart responded thrillingly to this novel mood. An instantaneous and strong impulse moved him to battle with his desperate fate. 

He would pull himself out of the mire; he would make a man of himself again; he would conquer the evil that had taken possession of him. 

There was time; he was comparatively young yet; he would resurrect his old eager ambitions and pursue them without faltering. 

Those solemn but sweet organ notes had set up a revolution in him. 

To-morrow he would go into the roaring down-town district and find work. 

A fur importer had once offered him a place as driver. 

He would find him to-morrow and ask for the position. 

He would be somebody in the world. He would - Soapy felt a hand laid on his arm. 

He looked quickly around into the broad face of a policeman. 

What are you don' here?' asked the officer. 

No thin said Soapy. Then come along,' said the policeman. 'Three months on the Island,' said the Magistrate in the Police Court the next morning.

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I was born a yellow pup; date, locality, pedigree and weight unknown. 

The first thing I can recollect, an old woman had me in a basket at Broadway and Twenty-third trying to sell me to a fat lady. Old Mother Hubbard was boosting me to beat the band as a genuine Pomeranian-Hamiltonian-Red-Irish-Cochin-China Stoke-Yogis fox terrier. 

The fat lady chased a V around among the samples of gross grain flannelette in her shopping-bag till she cornered it, and gave up. From that moment I was a pet - a mamma's own Wolsey squirms. 

Say, gentle reader, did you ever have a 200-pound woman breathing a flavor of Camembert cheese and Peru d Agnes pick you up and wallop her nose all over you, remarking all the time in an Emma Sames tone of voice: 'Oh, op's um hoodlum, hoodlum, hoodlum, hoodlum, bitchy-witty hoodlums?
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