If I were to descirbe true love then i would descirbe it as what a snow man did to a snow women,
hegave her warm hug & they both melted in each others arms...!
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.
Kuch Umer Ki Pehli Manzil Thi, …. Kuch Raste Thay Anjan Buhat, …. Kuch Ham Bhi Pagal Thay Lekin, …. Kuch Wo Bhi Thay Nadan Buhat, …. Kuch Usne Bhi Na Samjhaya, …. Yeh Piyar Nahi Aasan Buhat, …. Aakhir Hamne Bhi Khail Liya, …. Jis Khail Mein Thay Nuqsan Buhat
bottle main Pepsi say zyaada
....used Socks main smell say bhi zyaadaa....
Adnan Sami main charbi say zyaada...
Mithai main sweet say zyaada...
Pakistan main coruption say zzyaada... I LOVE U
