Kurulus Osman Season 1 Episode 05 In Urdu |Giveme5 and Makki Tv Kurulus Osman S 1 E 050 With Urdu Subtitles

Kurulus Osman Season 1 Episode 05 In Urdu

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Story Line:

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The fist of E. Rushmore Coglan banged the table and I was jarred into silence. 'Excuse me,' said he, 'but that's a question I never like to hear asked. What does it matter where a man is from? Is it fair to judge a man by his post-office address? 

Why, I've seen Kentuckians who hated whisky, Virginians who weren't descended from Pocahontas, Indianian who hadn't written a novel, Mexicans who didn't wear velvet trousers with silver dollars sewed along the seams, funny Englishmen, spendthrift Yankees, cold-blooded Southerners, narrow-minded Westerners, and New Yorker who were too busy to stop for an hour on the street to watch a one-armed grocer's clerk do up cranberries in paper bags. 

Let a man be a man and don't handicap him with the label of any section.

Pardon me,' I said, 'but my curiosity was not altogether an idle one. I know the South, and when the band plays "Dixie" I like to observe. 

I have formed the belief that the man who applauds that air with special violence and ostensible sectional loyalty is invariably a native of either Se caucus, N.J., or the district between Murray Hill Lyceum and the Harlem River, this city. 

I was about to put my opinion to the test by inquiring of this gentleman when you interrupted with your own - larger theory, I must confess.

 And now the dark-haired young man spoke to me, and it became evident that his mind also moved along its own set of grooves.

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Cairo, Egypt, and another in Yokohama all the year round. 

I've got slippers waiting for me in a tea-house in Shanghai, and I don't have to tell 'em how to cook my eggs in Rio de Janeiro or Seattle. 

It's a mighty little old world. What's the use of bragging about being from the North, or the South, or the old manor-house in the dale, or Euclid Avenue, Cleveland, or Pike's Peak, or Fairfax County, Va., or Hooligan's Flats or any place? It'll be a better world when we quit being fools about some mildewed town or ten acres of swampland just because we happened to be born there.

You seem to be a genuine cosmopolitan,' I said admiringly. 'But it also seems that you would decry patriotism.

A relic of the stone age,' declared Coglan warmly. 'We are all brothers - Chin amen, Englishmen, Zulus, Patagonian, and the people in the bend of the Kaw River.

 Some day all this petty pride in one's city or state or section or country will be wiped out, and we'll all be citizens of the world, as we ought to be.' 'But while you are wandering in foreign lands,' I persisted, 'do not your thoughts revert to some spot - some dear.

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 'Nary a spot,' interrupted E. R. Coglan flippantly. 

The terrestrial, globular, planetary hunk of matter, slightly flattened at the poles, and known as the Earth, is my abode. 

I've met a good many object-bound citizens of this country abroad. 

I've seen men from Chicago sit in a gondola in Venice on a moonlight night and brag about their drainage canal. 

I've seen a Southerner on being introduced to the King of England hand that monarch, without batting his eyes, the information that his grandaunt on his mother's side was related by marriage to the Perkins's, of Charleston. 

I knew a New Yorker who was kidnapped for ransom by some Afghanistan bandits. 

His people sent over the money and he came back to Kabul with the agent. "Afghanistan?" the natives said to him through an interpreter. 

"Well, not so slow, do you think?" "Oh, I don't know," says he, and he begins to tell them about a cab-driver at Sixth Avenue and Broadway. Those ideas don't suit me.

 I'm not tied down to anything that isn't 8,000 miles in diameter. Just put me down as E. Rushmore Coolant, citizen of the terrestrial sphere.

My cosmopolitan made a large adieu and left me, for he thought that he saw someone through the chatter and smoke whom he knew. 

So I was left with the would-be periwinkle, who was reduced to Vegeburger without further ability to voice his aspirations to perch, melodious, upon the summit of a valley. 

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  I believed in him. How was it? 

The men that breed from them they traffic up and down, but cling to their cities' hem as a child to the mother's gown.

Not so E. Rushmore Coolant. With the whole world for his - My meditations were interrupted by a tremendous noise and conflict in another part of the café. I saw above the heads of the seated patrons E. Rushmore Coolant and a stranger to me engaged in terrific battle.

 They fought between the tables like Titans, and glasses crashed, and men caught their hats up and were knocked down, and a brunette screamed, and a blonde began to sing 'Teasing.

 My cosmopolitan was sustaining the pride and reputation of the Earth when the waiters closed in on both combatants with their famous flying wedge formation and bore them outside, still resisting.

 I called McCarthy, one of the French garçons, and asked him the cause of the conflict. 

'The man with the red tie' (that was my cosmopolite, said he, 'got hot on account of things said about the bum sidewalks and water supply of the place he come from by the other guy.' 'Why,' said I, bewildered, 'that man is a citizen of the world - a cosmopolitan. 

He Originally from Marta wattage, Maine, he said,' continued McCarthy, 'and he wouldn't stand for no knocking' the place. 

THE MAY MOON SHONE BRIGHT upon the private boarding-house of Mrs. 

Murphy. By reference to the almanac a large amount of territory will be discovered upon which its rays also fell. Spring was in its heyday, with hay fever soon to follow.

 The parks were green with new leaves and buyers for the Western and Southern trade. 

Flowers and summer-resort agents were blowing; the air and answers to Lawson were growing milder; hand-organs, fountains and pinochle were playing everywhere.