New neo nazi numbers 10 Quotes, Status, Photo, Video

Yasuved

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Hameshaa der kar detaa hoon main ....! zaroori baat kahni ho ...koi waada nibhaana ho ...! Use aawaaz deni ho ...use waapas bulaana ho ...., Hameshaa der kar detaa hoon main ...! Madad karni ho uski ....yaar ki dahraaz banaana ho ..., Bahut derinaa raston par kisi se milne jaana ho ...., Hameshaa der kar detaa hoon main ...! Badalte mausamon ki sair mein ..dil ko lagaana ho ..., Kisi ko yaad rakhnaa ho ...kisi ko bhool jaana ho ...! Hameshaa der kar detaa hoon main ...! Kisi ko maut se pahle kisi ....gum se bachaana ho ..., Haqeeqat aur thi kuchh usko jaake ye bataana ho ...., Hameshaa der kar detaa hoon main ...! Hameshaa der kar detaa hoon main ....!! *Muneer nazi* ©Yasuved singh Muneer nazi #udas

Hameshaa der kar detaa hoon main ....! zaroori baat kahni ho ...koi waada nibhaana ho ...! Use aawaaz deni ho ...use waapas bulaana ho ...., Hameshaa der kar detaa hoon main ...! Madad karni ho uski ....yaar ki dahraaz banaana ho ..., Bahut derinaa raston par kisi se milne jaana ho ...., Hameshaa der kar detaa hoon main ...! Badalte mausamon ki sair mein ..dil ko lagaana ho ..., Kisi ko yaad rakhnaa ho ...kisi ko bhool jaana ho ...! Hameshaa der kar detaa hoon main ...! Kisi ko maut se pahle kisi ....gum se bachaana ho ..., Haqeeqat aur thi kuchh usko jaake ye bataana ho ...., Hameshaa der kar detaa hoon main ...! Hameshaa der kar detaa hoon main ....!! *Muneer nazi* ©Yasuved singh Muneer nazi #udas

Abinesh

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I like the generosity of numbers. The way, for example, they are willing to count anything or anyone: two pickles, one door to the room, eight dancers dressed as swans. I like the domesticity of addition— add two cups of milk and stir— the sense of plenty: six plums on the ground, three more falling from the tree. And multiplication's school of fish times fish, whose silver bodies breed beneath the shadow of a boat. Even subtraction is never loss, just addition somewhere else: five sparrows take away two, the two in someone else's garden now. There's an amplitude to long division, as it opens Chinese take-out box by paper box, inside every folded cookie a new fortune. And I never fail to be surprised by the gift of an odd remainder, footloose at the end: forty-seven divided by eleven equals four, with three remaining. Three boys beyond their mothers' call, two Italians off to the sea, one sock that isn't anywhere you look ©Abinesh Numbers

I like the generosity of numbers. The way, for example, they are willing to count anything or anyone: two pickles, one door to the room, eight dancers dressed as swans. I like the domesticity of addition— add two cups of milk and stir— the sense of plenty: six plums on the ground, three more falling from the tree. And multiplication's school of fish times fish, whose silver bodies breed beneath the shadow of a boat. Even subtraction is never loss, just addition somewhere else: five sparrows take away two, the two in someone else's garden now. There's an amplitude to long division, as it opens Chinese take-out box by paper box, inside every folded cookie a new fortune. And I never fail to be surprised by the gift of an odd remainder, footloose at the end: forty-seven divided by eleven equals four, with three remaining. Three boys beyond their mothers' call, two Italians off to the sea, one sock that isn't anywhere you look ©Abinesh Numbers