Kahin wo mile to usay kehna K Lot aao Lot aao k koi shiddat se Barri muddat se Barri muhabat se tumhara intizar kar raha hai Lot aao k kisi ki bahare na hone se kisi ki aankhon mei nami or zindagi mei kami bohat zyada ha
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.
