New 10 crore in numbers Quotes, Status, Photo, Video

Lethal Man

+ Follow

Related StoriesReport Abuse Copy Text

White Bro ham student hai ham bhont karenge education par aur ekta(गठबंधन) par. Aap kya hai kis par bhont karenge sonchye ga jaror ??? #Mission 100cror. ©Lethal Man #mission 100 crore.

White Bro ham student hai ham bhont karenge education par aur ekta(गठबंधन) par. Aap kya hai kis par bhont karenge sonchye ga jaror ??? #Mission 100cror. ©Lethal Man #mission 100 crore.

#maxicandragon

+ Follow

Related StoriesReport Abuse Copy Text

Mxe 9628❗8269exM ©#maxicandragon Hidden message in these numbers #SadharanManushya #LIFETUNNEL

Mxe 9628❗8269exM ©#maxicandragon Hidden message in these numbers #SadharanManushya #LIFETUNNEL

Sushil Kumar

+ Follow

Related StoriesReport Abuse Copy Text

BeHappy एक लड़की की दो करोड़ की लॉटरी निकली लॉटरीवाला- आपको टैक्स काटकर 1.75 करोड़ मिलेंगे लड़की- ये गलत बात है, मुझे पूरे 2 करोड़ दो नहीं तो मेरे टिकट के 100 रुपये वापस करो। ©Sushil Kumar #beHappy 2 crore

BeHappy एक लड़की की दो करोड़ की लॉटरी निकली लॉटरीवाला- आपको टैक्स काटकर 1.75 करोड़ मिलेंगे लड़की- ये गलत बात है, मुझे पूरे 2 करोड़ दो नहीं तो मेरे टिकट के 100 रुपये वापस करो। ©Sushil Kumar #beHappy 2 crore

Abinesh

+ Follow

Related StoriesReport Abuse Copy Text

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