With every cut i make another feet i dig down deep,
bury me there with all the tears i weep.
fill it with my sorrows & all the blood i''ve shed..
Go on hurt me,kill me..let death be my eternal bed !!
Hum iss qadar tumpe mar mittege
Tum jahan dekhoge hum hi tumhe dikhege
Rakhna har pal iss dil mein hamari yaad
Hamare baad hamare pyar ki daastaan duniya vaale likhege
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.