Later that night I held an atlas on my lap Ran my fingers across the whole world And whispered Where does it hurt? It answered Everywhere Everywhere Everywhere
If you are irritated by every rub, how will your mirror be polished?
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Mohabbat karne waalon ki tijarat bhi anokhi hai. Munafe chhor dete Hain. Khasaarey baat lete Hain.
Jo zaahir ho jaaye woh dard kaisa Jo samajh na sake woh hamdard kaisa