Lemon CheeseCake

Her smile, it wasn't enchanting yet it was gentle and heartwarming. Those eyes weren't so much as almond shaped or guarded by enticing perfuse lashes, but they were kind and deep. "Oh please, I am not pretty" , was her usual response to plesantaries about the way she looked. Truth be told she wasn't pretty, she wasn't pretty at all. She was beautiful, but not everyone was lucky enough to see it.

To be fair it was foolish of her to think, anyone could replace you or even come close to what you were to her. She tried though, like a little warrior getting up every time she was knocked down by mistrust, disappointments and unrealistic expectations.  But that didn't mean, it didn't break her, because it did; beyond repair. There came a point, though; where she couldn't feel a thing even when she tried, even when she wanted. That bothered her too; but what she didn't realize was that it was fof her own good, for no one could ever replace you or even come close to what you were to her.

Meri Zindagi ki Wairaniya'n Bani Rawnakei'n kisi aur ki Mita sake ju na ansu mere Woh dast, baant'te rahe roshni

His wrinkled forehead, and the bushy eyebrows. That baby face and those man tantrums, she was scared to get smitten. Mainly because deep down she knew, she already was.

Old books are classy, the unpleasant moist smell and rough edges of the pages that have been touched by so many hands are a memoir of the lives they have touched. When your teardrop leaves a mark right next to that of a complete stranger, hundreds or perhaps millions of miles away, you somehow understand what they felt and what made them feel that way. Old books create a mysterious association among people who have never met, and probably never would. Old books carry so much beauty within them.

Har ek banna phirta hai thakedaar mera, Jab se hata hai sar se saya tera. bohat rooti hun tujhey yaad karke, bari mushkil se sooti hun  tujhey yaad karke, Agar jana hi tha tu mujhe saath le jaati, ju wadda kiya tha usko tu nibhati, dar lagta hai har ek baat se ab tu, toh nahi hai pass ab ju, bohat rooti hun tujhey yaad karke, bari mushkil se sooti hun  tujhey yaad karke, kabhi lout kar ju asakey tu, Ek baar seenay se laga sake ju, shayad bhul jao'n sab ghum mein bhi, shayad muskarao'n phir mein bhi, bohat rooti hun tujhey yaad karke, bari mushkil se sooti hun  tujhey yaad karke,

I saw you in my dream last night, still so beautiful, so sprite. While tracing the outline of your wounds I asked, if they still hurt? You looked at me and replied , "They look the same as before, but I don't feel a thing anymore". "Me too", I smiled.