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.
Mana k tere shaher ma hum se garib
km hoon gey!!
Biki jo teri wafa to phle kharid dar
hum hoon gey!!
Mujh pta nai apni kismat ka tujh paa
lea
to sub se ameer hum hoon gey!!
Zubaan se tumhe keh nahi sakte
Isliye hmesha khuda se Fariyaad karte hai
Jab bhi tumhara Dil jor se dhadke
Samajh Lena hum tumhe
Dil se yaad karte hai.
