Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists. When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence.
Har sham se tera izhaar kiya karte hai,
Har khwab me tera didar kiya karte hai,
Diwane hi to hai hum tere,
Jo har waqt tere milne ka intzaar kiya karte ha
aa jaye kisi din tu aisa bhe nahin lagta lekan woh tera wada jhoota bhe nahin lagta milta hy sakoon dil ko us yaar k koochay main har roz magar jana acha bhe nahin lagta dekha hy tujhy jab se bechain bhut hy dil kahny ko koi tujh se rishta bhe nhi lagta
Ye tu Dil tha Dewana k Tum per aa gaya Warna Hum Keemti pathron ko be uthaya nhi krty Ye mana k Tum Haseen hoo magr ye be sun loo Hum Haseen logon se dil lagaya nhi krty Jis se Krty hain pyar bus ek hi baar krty hain Baar baar hum b kisi ko sataya nhi krty
If you have reasons for loving someone,
Then you are using your mind,
But if you love someone for no reason
Then you are using your heart,
And that is TRUE LOVE…
