Usse Jab Yaad Aayega Wo Pehli Bar Ka Milna
Toh Pal Pal Yaad Rakhe Ga YaSub Kuch Bhool Jayega
Ussey Jab Yaad Ayega Guzre Mosam Ka Har Lamha
Toh Khud Hi Ro Parega Ya Khud Hi Muskrayega
Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter - to-morrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther ... And one fine morning ---
Ye Sila Mila Hai Mujhko Teri Dosti Ke Peeche..
Ke Hazaar Gam Lage Hain Meri Zndgi Ke Peeche..
Tujhe Dil Diya Hui Ye Kaisi Bhool Mujhse..
Mai Kaha Kaha Na Bhatki Teri Ashiqi Ke Peeche..!
You've often heard me say - perhaps too often - that poetry is what is lost in translation. It is also what is lost in interpretation. That little poem means just what it says and it says what it means, nothing less but nothing more.
Before we condemn the jurors who acquitted George Zimmerman, we should remember that they were asked to do something extraordinary. They were asked to listen to the facts and apply the law to the best of their ability in a case the world was watching.
Teri Khushi se hi nhi Gum sebhi Rishta
hai mera,
Tu Zindagi ka ek Aham hisahai mera,,
Ye Pyar ka Rishta tmse sirfLafzon ki Nhi,
Tere Dil se Dil ka Rishta haimera.
Jigar Ke Dard Me Koi Marham Lagane Waala Nahi..
Dilme Lagi Hai Aag Koi Bujhane Waala Nahi..
Kis Se Ummid Rakhe Is Jaha Me
Sab Ne Rulaya Hai Koi Hasane Waala Nahi...!