Love is like a friendship caught on fire. In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning and unquenchable.
Pyar kisi se jo karoge ruswai hi milegi...
Wafa kar lo chahe jitni Bewafai hi milegi...
Jitna marzi kisi ko apna bana lo,
Jab ankh khulegi... Tanhai hi milegi !
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.
