hame bhoolne ki

hame bhoolne ki
hame bhoolne ki koshish mat karna
ham tere dil ka dard ban jayege
karoge aakhri saas tak yaad
hum tumhe itna bebas kar jayege
  

Jun, 14 2010     129 chars (1 sms)     3387 views       Love

more Love SMS Messages

One Day
You Will Love Me
As I Once Loved You
One Day
You Will Cry Over Me
Like I Cried Over You
One Day
You Will Want Me
And I Wont Want You.
NeVeR qUeStIoN

If YoU aRe In
LOVE oR nOt ...

BeCaUsE

If YoU wErE

YoU wOuLdN''T NeEd To AsK ... (:
Love is like sunshine.
It brings a golden glow to its beholder''s face.
And a warm feeling all over their body.
It awakens souls and opens eyes.
And when its over, it leaves billions of small memories called stars.
To remind the world, that it still exists.
The difference between crush and love:
When you like a person and you know why you like the person, it’s a Crush.
But when you like a person and don’t know why you like the person, its Love.
I Am Alone,
So Very Alone

I Hurt,
So Very Bad

I Am Ignored,
Just Thrown Aside

I Am Security,
For Others To Have

I Am Lonely,
There Is No One Close,
No One Sees The Pain

I Cry,
Hope Is Gone

I Am Alone,
And No One Knows
Love is Pure
Love is Sure
Love is sweet poison
that Doctors can"t cure
Zamane bhar ki baton mei hame bhula na dena
jab kabhi yaad aaye to zara muskura dena
zinda rahe to milenge dost
nahi to har diwali mere naam ka diya jala dena
''''FaCt Of LiFe''''
When u StaRt CarRiNg AbOuT YOURSELF
You StaRt LoViNg SOMEBODY . . .
BuT
WhEn YoU StArT CaRiNg AbOuT OTHERS
SOMEBODY StArTs LoViNg U . . .
mhjy yaqeen to nai mgr yai sch hai
mian tery wasty umry guzar skti hn
ik yai nai k tjy jeetny ke khawish hai
main tery wasty khud ko b haar skti hn
It hurts to love someone and not be loved in return, but what is the most painful is to love someone and never find the courage to let the person know how you feel.
Life is 4 living
I live mine 4 U!
Luv is 4 giving
I give mine 2 U!
Dreams r 4 dreaming
mine r 4 U!
Heart is 4 beating &
mine beats 4 U
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.