We Have No Right To Ask When A Sorrow Comes. . . ''Why Did This Happen To Me. . . ?'' Unless
We Ask The Same Question For Every Joy That Comes Our Way. . .
We act as though comfort & luxury were the chief requirements of life, when all that we need to make us really happy is something to be enthusiastic about.
Boy asked a girl:Why do you love Rose,which dies in a day ? Why don't you love me,who dies for you everyday ? . . Girl replied: . . . . . . Oye Hoye...Angreziiii.....