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Soulmate
by
Bijaya Ghosh

Radha was delirious. Leaving her in the bedroom, Mad came to the drawing room. The journey was short. But it had exhausted him. Reclining on the couch, he tried to shut his eyes though he knew sleeping was impossible. Alcohol had gone to Radha’s head. She was babbling. Mad couldn’t make out most of it. But hazily he could understand that Satya – her husband was not a regular guy. He maintained number of houses at different locations. He treated Radha as a costly artifact. She spent her days alone, tending flower pots. Like the dried petals of a protected rose, her youth had dried off in eternal wait… etc etc.
A string of contradictory thoughts had entered Mad’s mind. Part of him wanted to leave the house immediately, while Radha was still unconscious. But other half was curious. It was wandering. It was curious about man of the house. To own a spacious flat in the posh area of salt lake, would take many years of hard labor. What if he played the role of a visitor bee in the unconscious lady’s life? Wasn’t it a godsend opportunity; to have a paramour like Radha and enjoy the amenities free of cost.”

It was Mad’s first time at O2. Sanyukta – his glamorous classmate San--had dared him to meet her there. Madhusudan Dakua or Mad, though qualified for Electronics Engineering, did not have the intelligence to call that bluff. Armed with the stipend for entire month, he had waited the gate of O2 for one full hour. San was not there. It took one full
It took him one full hour to realize that it was one more practical joke played by his class-mates to test his IQ level. Though Mad had a JEE ranking of 40, there is a rumor the class. “Evaluators knew the paper belonged to a scheduled caste student.”
Mad was not aware that his peculiar IQ has ditched him once again. Radha wasn’t fully unconscious. She was at a crossroad---crisscrossing the border of consciousness and oblivion. At the border of a faithful traditional wife and a morally loose devil -may- care woman. How many pegs she had ordered? Two, three, ten? She was trying to recollect. Without recollecting, she couldn’t build a strategy. But hard as she tried, only patches of the evening came to her mind.
The mad urge of taking on Satya had brought her out of the house. Satya had termed her a dead beauty! He said, he needed the assistance of smart women—not a museum piece from the Eighteenth century. Yes, he called her an ancient museum piece—beautiful but dead!
That was the breaking point. Radha wanted to be anything but dead! The comment had unleashed an insane energy in her. In the evening she had taken a taxi and started for the pilgrimage of smartness— to one of the latest addition in the of map Bengali promiscuity – the O2 Disco -at the outskirts of Kolkata.
But at the gate of O2, her enthusiasm had evaporated. In the world of jeans clad westernized Bengali women, she felt like a total stranger.

“Who is with you with Ma’am”—the doorman asked.
“I am alone.”
“Ma’am you need a partner to enter this bar. It’s a rule.” There was a bit of uneasiness in the gateman’s voice.
The red streak at the parting of Radha’s hair, the full –backed old- fashioned blouse and the traditional handloom sari, all made her conspicuous amidst of scantily dressed high –voltage females who cat-walked in and out of the club in their sharp stilettos . She had started retracing her steps.
“Ma’am”
Radha looked back. It was gateman.
“Ma’am the man over there has also come alone. You two can enter together.”
As if on cue, the Youngman on the opposite side had crossed over.
Sharing a table with a complete stranger was not exactly something Radha was looking forward to. So she made an attempt in conversation.

“I am Radha – Mrs. Sreeradha Mukherjee. You?”
“I am Mad- Madhusudan- -second year Engineering .” His voice was not steady when he uttered his name
“You, a student?”
“Yes Ma’am”
“Shouldn’t you be with friends?”
“I don’t have friends.” Mad answered with a sense of finality.

The disco light of O2 had created a dazzling darkness. People were dancing. Satya--her hubby, had a knack for dancing. Out of shape though, he was the first one to hit the floor at every conceivable opportunity.
The room was reeking of liquor. The waiter had left drinks on their table too. The conversation could not proceed much further. Suddenly, leaving Mad at the table, Radha entered the dancing crowd.
Things had became hazier after that. What had happened then? “Did somebody pour Beer on her blouse? Yes. Someone tried to hug her too. Instinctively Radha had slapped them. Suddenly she was the centre of attention. Suddenly there was a big chaos. Radha was trapped in that crowd.
Like the eternal rescuer Madusudan-Mad had freed her from the crowd. But she had already lost control. She was vigorously shaking.
As if to cool her excited nerves, waiter had filled her glass again. Radha had drank it at one go.

“Maam, you must stop now.”
“You go! I am not going --.”

“Maam –they may call the police. Your husband will come to know—there will be a big scandal! He pleaded helplessly.”
“Wh-o car—e—s?”
“I do. I am still a student. I entered with you. I may be rusticated, just for coming here.”

Reluctantly Radha kept a 1000 rupee note on the table and got up. But as she tried walking, lost her balance and fell on Mad.
Then there is a faint memory of entering a taxi and landing at her husband’s house. Taking keys from her purse Mad had opened the door. Nobody was at home. On the way, Radha had vomited. The cab driver asked for the damages too. Mad’s expensive shirt was spoiled. But he didn’t mind. In the bathroom, he washed it and kept for drying. The whole night was a nightmare. The sequence of events flashed before him eye like a movie script.

Putting Radha to sleep, Mad was sitting in drawing room and there he fell asleep. The sound of the clock got him out of his dream world. The clock struck five. Soon there would be light. With uncertain steps, he got up. He had to go—but he couldn’t leave keeping the front door open.


The bedroom door was wide open. Radha was sitting on the bed.
“Ma’am—I am going.”
“Why?”

“Why? “Why?” The question knocked Mad off. “At O2, we just met few hours back—you don’t even know me.” He babbled awkwardly.

“But you brought me home. Babysat me for the whole night. “
“You were not well. I couldn’t leave a sick person alone.”
“Then don’t go,” – losing all sense Radha cried out like a pampered kid.
“Ma’am- I can’t.”
“If you leave I will be dead. I want to live.”
“Ma’am – you are still not well. May be you should call a relative.”
“No. Please don’t walk out of my life. Last night, I have done lots of stupid things. But after a long time, I felt alive. Otherwise I was just a dead body- may be not ugly but dead. You are the only one who has treated me as a living human.”
“Ma’am please, please understand- I am a stranger.”.
“You are the only one who gave me a sense of belonging. Can’t you be my friend? I don’t have anybody to talk to.”
Something broke within Madhusudan. Suddenly the veil of anonymity was lifted. Radha was no longer an elderly housewife- but a lonely soul looking for recognition—pleading for acceptance just the way he did with his smart intellectual friends.
Age, status and social barriers were forgotten. Protective instinct rose within him. Lowering his head, he kissed Radha on her forehead and said next Sunday I will wait for you at the gate.

O2 is not the type of meeting places, that college students can afford. One has to buy at least a couple pegs to get entry over there. But it is one of the places where people don’t judge each other. Two lonely souls can meet here quite often, to breathe in fresh oxygen from one another. Here, Mad and Radha drank to each other’s pain and recharged their moribund spirit with the oxygen of life.


0 Love

"Ek pal ko jab dusre hi pal aap se chhin liya jaye Wo kahani ban jati hai,, Kahani us ghari ki jaha pal bhi kabhi tham jaya karti thi, Kahani us intezaar ki jab har pal katna badi mushkil lagti thi, Kahani us lamhe ki jab maano koi sadiyo tak use apni bahon mein kaid karna chahti ho, Kahani us pal ki jab kisine koi waada kiya ho, Kahani us pal ki jab wo wada tut-ta dikh raha ho, Kahani us pal ki jab kisine aapka haat thama ho, Kahani us pal ki jab koi pas hokar bhi saath na ho, Kahani us pal ki jab maano pehli bar kisi ki aankho ne shayad kuch bolne ki koshish ki ho, Kahani us daur ki jab aap khud wo ghari ho, Kahani us waqt ki bhi jaha har ek pal koi aapse chhinke kahani bana raha ho, Kahani us ghari ki bhi jab ye kahani khatam ho raha ho, Par ye kahani hai kiski?? Shayad uski jo is kahani mein apni guzri kal dhund rahi ho Shayad uski jo apni beetein hue pal ko is mein taalash rahi ho.. Par kya ye kahani un sabki nahi jo in palon ke hissedar ho? Kya ye kahani un sab ki nahi jo in palon mein kaid ho? Kya un sab ki nahi jo kisike zindagi ho? Kya ye sirf us insaan ki hai jo in palon ko sameta ho? Kya un logo ki nahi jinko sameta ho? Kya ye sirf uski hai jo in palon ko kahani bante dekh rahi ho.. ................... .......... ...... .... .... ... M.. ..... ..... ..... .... .... ...."

Ek pal ko jab dusre hi pal aap se chhin liya jaye
Wo kahani ban jati hai,,
Kahani us ghari ki jaha pal bhi kabhi
 tham jaya karti thi,
Kahani us intezaar ki jab har pal katna
 badi mushkil lagti thi,
Kahani us lamhe ki jab maano koi sadiyo tak
 use apni bahon mein kaid karna chahti ho,
Kahani us pal ki jab kisine koi waada kiya ho,
Kahani us pal ki jab wo wada tut-ta dikh raha ho,
Kahani us pal ki jab kisine aapka haat thama ho,
Kahani us pal ki jab koi pas hokar bhi saath na ho, 
Kahani us pal ki jab maano pehli bar 
kisi ki aankho ne shayad kuch bolne ki koshish ki ho,
Kahani us daur ki jab aap khud wo ghari ho, 
Kahani us waqt ki bhi jaha har ek pal 
koi aapse chhinke kahani bana raha ho, 
Kahani us ghari ki bhi jab ye kahani khatam ho raha ho, 
Par ye kahani hai kiski?? 
Shayad uski jo is kahani mein apni guzri kal dhund rahi ho
Shayad uski jo apni beetein hue pal ko is mein taalash rahi ho..
Par kya ye kahani un sabki nahi jo in palon ke hissedar ho? 
Kya ye kahani un sab ki nahi jo in palon mein 
kaid ho?
 Kya un sab ki nahi jo kisike zindagi ho? 
Kya ye sirf us insaan ki hai jo
 in palon ko sameta ho? 
Kya un logo ki nahi jinko sameta ho? 
Kya ye sirf uski hai jo in palon ko 
kahani bante dekh rahi ho..

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... M.. 
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9 Love

"Radha-Krishna....jo byaan krte h schi prem khani Pr kanha ki toh meera jesi bhut ldkiyan h deewani Yeh sb jaan kr radha ki aankhon se nikl aata h paani Krishna smjhaye radha ko mt kro tum yeh naadani Radha khe...prem kiya hmne lekin vivah apka rukmani se hua Jb hmne scha pyar kiya toh jiwan hmara kuun ek nhi hua Kanha ne bhut pyaar se smjhaya... Or kanha ki baat sunkr radha ka mn bhi harshaya Kanha bole....yeh toh shareer hmare alg h priye Lekin ruh toh ek hi h na....radha me kanha...kanha me radha h....toh fir kase hm alg hue "

Radha-Krishna....jo byaan krte h schi prem khani Pr kanha ki toh meera jesi bhut ldkiyan h deewani
Yeh sb jaan kr radha ki aankhon se nikl aata h paani
Krishna smjhaye radha ko mt kro tum yeh naadani
Radha khe...prem kiya hmne lekin vivah apka rukmani se hua
Jb hmne scha pyar kiya toh jiwan hmara kuun ek nhi hua
Kanha ne bhut pyaar se smjhaya...
Or kanha ki baat sunkr radha ka mn bhi harshaya
Kanha bole....yeh toh shareer hmare alg h priye
Lekin ruh toh ek hi h na....radha me kanha...kanha me radha h....toh fir kase hm alg hue

#Nojoto#Love#Radha#Krishna#Prem

47 Love

"One sided Love Love, a feeling, emotion or an action.We all fall in love. We love our parents, friends, family and special one. Now, love as one sided or both is a tricky thing. Do we ever able to realize whether love is one sided or both? I guess no. When we love we just love without expecting anything from anyone. The words ego, self respect, well beings all vain away, as love itself is a strong feeling that fades away others. Radha loved Krishna even Rukmani too. But both belonging to same sunsign have their destinies different. For one krishna was everything but couldn't get him, for other Krishna was her stubbornness but got him. So, now was Radha's love one sided. Did krishna didn't love her. Why Radha didn't come back but Krishna when left this world remembered Radha all the time? Would love to have yours suggestions, feedback on One sided love in comment section...."

One sided Love Love, a feeling, emotion or an action.We all fall in love. We love our parents, friends, family and special one. Now, love as one sided or both is a tricky thing. Do we ever able to realize whether love is one sided or both? I guess no.
When we love we just love without expecting anything from anyone. The words ego, self respect, well beings all vain away, as love itself is a strong feeling that fades away others. Radha loved Krishna even Rukmani too. But both belonging to same sunsign have their destinies different. For one krishna was everything but couldn't get him, for other Krishna was her stubbornness but got him. So, now was Radha's love one sided. Did krishna didn't love her. Why Radha didn't come back but Krishna when left this world remembered Radha all the time?

Would love to have yours suggestions, feedback on One sided love in comment section....

#Love#thistimeyourviews#connectwithme

76 Love
3 Share

"//PHLE KUCH ALAG THI KAHANI// |READ IN CAPTION|"

//PHLE KUCH ALAG THI KAHANI//
|READ IN CAPTION|

//PHLE KUCH ALAG THI KAHANI//
Phle Kuch alag thi kahani
Radio fm bhi 11:00 bje k bad chup hojaya krte the,
Qki tab der rat tak jaagne ke silsile ni hua krte the

Phle kuch alg thi kahani,
Chandni raat me chand ko ishq smjh kr,us se guftgu krte the ,
Kyuki tb humsafar har pal WhatsApp pr available ni hua krte the.

Phle kuch alg thi kahani,
Bacche khelte the ghr- ghr,dil ko yun behlane k liye,
Kyuki tb rishto se khelne ke zamane ni hua krte the.

Phle kuch alg thi kahani,
Itwaar bhi mano tyohaar sa tha,dost bhi sare yaar se the,
Kyuki tb Instagram stories jese 24 ghnte tk simti yaadein ni bnaya krte the.

Phle kuch alg thi kahani,
Shaamein bhi hua krti thi,baatein bhi hua krti thi,
Kyuki tb subah se shaam tk ankhe mobile screens pr ni tika krti thi.

Phle kuch alg thi kahani,
Tasveero ko sanjho kr rkha krte the,bs vhi purani yaadein hua krti thi,
Kyuki tb Snapchat filters or saved memories ki gunjaiyish hi ni hua krti thi.

Phle kuch alg thi kahani,
Pyaar-e-izhaar yun hi nighaao se zahir hojata tha or dil lga beththe the,
Kyuki tb humsafar tinder ke right swipe see nhi dil swipe se milte the.

Phle kuch alg thi kahani,
Dekhte the unhe nighaien bhrkr or jese hi vo dekhein to nazrein chura lete the,
Kyuki tb mohabbat un gallery ke saved folders me nhi balki ankho me dhundte the.

Phle kuch alg thi kahani,
Vo pyaari si lukachupi or dosto ki matargasti dil ko khoob lubhati thi,
Kyuki tb luka chupi WhatsApp k last seen se nhi zindadili se khela krte the.

Han,phle kuch alg thi kahani,
Jb zindagi jeene ke kuch haseen saleeke hua krte the,
Khi Muskaan toh khi thahako ke charche hua krte the.

Kis gali kho gyi ye purani phchan?
Kbhi dil se dhundne toh niklo janab,
Usi nukkad ki dukaan pr zindagi ki jalebiyan aj bhi bde shauk se khayi jati hai.
#RDV18 #Nojoto

9 Love

Soulmate
by
Bijaya Ghosh

Radha was delirious. Leaving her in the bedroom, Mad came to the drawing room. The journey was short. But it had exhausted him. Reclining on the couch, he tried to shut his eyes though he knew sleeping was impossible. Alcohol had gone to Radha’s head. She was babbling. Mad couldn’t make out most of it. But hazily he could understand that Satya – her husband was not a regular guy. He maintained number of houses at different locations. He treated Radha as a costly artifact. She spent her days alone, tending flower pots. Like the dried petals of a protected rose, her youth had dried off in eternal wait… etc etc.
A string of contradictory thoughts had entered Mad’s mind. Part of him wanted to leave the house immediately, while Radha was still unconscious. But other half was curious. It was wandering. It was curious about man of the house. To own a spacious flat in the posh area of salt lake, would take many years of hard labor. What if he played the role of a visitor bee in the unconscious lady’s life? Wasn’t it a godsend opportunity; to have a paramour like Radha and enjoy the amenities free of cost.”

It was Mad’s first time at O2. Sanyukta – his glamorous classmate San--had dared him to meet her there. Madhusudan Dakua or Mad, though qualified for Electronics Engineering, did not have the intelligence to call that bluff. Armed with the stipend for entire month, he had waited the gate of O2 for one full hour. San was not there. It took one full
It took him one full hour to realize that it was one more practical joke played by his class-mates to test his IQ level. Though Mad had a JEE ranking of 40, there is a rumor the class. “Evaluators knew the paper belonged to a scheduled caste student.”
Mad was not aware that his peculiar IQ has ditched him once again. Radha wasn’t fully unconscious. She was at a crossroad---crisscrossing the border of consciousness and oblivion. At the border of a faithful traditional wife and a morally loose devil -may- care woman. How many pegs she had ordered? Two, three, ten? She was trying to recollect. Without recollecting, she couldn’t build a strategy. But hard as she tried, only patches of the evening came to her mind.
The mad urge of taking on Satya had brought her out of the house. Satya had termed her a dead beauty! He said, he needed the assistance of smart women—not a museum piece from the Eighteenth century. Yes, he called her an ancient museum piece—beautiful but dead!
That was the breaking point. Radha wanted to be anything but dead! The comment had unleashed an insane energy in her. In the evening she had taken a taxi and started for the pilgrimage of smartness— to one of the latest addition in the of map Bengali promiscuity – the O2 Disco -at the outskirts of Kolkata.
But at the gate of O2, her enthusiasm had evaporated. In the world of jeans clad westernized Bengali women, she felt like a total stranger.

“Who is with you with Ma’am”—the doorman asked.
“I am alone.”
“Ma’am you need a partner to enter this bar. It’s a rule.” There was a bit of uneasiness in the gateman’s voice.
The red streak at the parting of Radha’s hair, the full –backed old- fashioned blouse and the traditional handloom sari, all made her conspicuous amidst of scantily dressed high –voltage females who cat-walked in and out of the club in their sharp stilettos . She had started retracing her steps.
“Ma’am”
Radha looked back. It was gateman.
“Ma’am the man over there has also come alone. You two can enter together.”
As if on cue, the Youngman on the opposite side had crossed over.
Sharing a table with a complete stranger was not exactly something Radha was looking forward to. So she made an attempt in conversation.

“I am Radha – Mrs. Sreeradha Mukherjee. You?”
“I am Mad- Madhusudan- -second year Engineering .” His voice was not steady when he uttered his name
“You, a student?”
“Yes Ma’am”
“Shouldn’t you be with friends?”
“I don’t have friends.” Mad answered with a sense of finality.

The disco light of O2 had created a dazzling darkness. People were dancing. Satya--her hubby, had a knack for dancing. Out of shape though, he was the first one to hit the floor at every conceivable opportunity.
The room was reeking of liquor. The waiter had left drinks on their table too. The conversation could not proceed much further. Suddenly, leaving Mad at the table, Radha entered the dancing crowd.
Things had became hazier after that. What had happened then? “Did somebody pour Beer on her blouse? Yes. Someone tried to hug her too. Instinctively Radha had slapped them. Suddenly she was the centre of attention. Suddenly there was a big chaos. Radha was trapped in that crowd.
Like the eternal rescuer Madusudan-Mad had freed her from the crowd. But she had already lost control. She was vigorously shaking.
As if to cool her excited nerves, waiter had filled her glass again. Radha had drank it at one go.

“Maam, you must stop now.”
“You go! I am not going --.”

“Maam –they may call the police. Your husband will come to know—there will be a big scandal! He pleaded helplessly.”
“Wh-o car—e—s?”
“I do. I am still a student. I entered with you. I may be rusticated, just for coming here.”

Reluctantly Radha kept a 1000 rupee note on the table and got up. But as she tried walking, lost her balance and fell on Mad.
Then there is a faint memory of entering a taxi and landing at her husband’s house. Taking keys from her purse Mad had opened the door. Nobody was at home. On the way, Radha had vomited. The cab driver asked for the damages too. Mad’s expensive shirt was spoiled. But he didn’t mind. In the bathroom, he washed it and kept for drying. The whole night was a nightmare. The sequence of events flashed before him eye like a movie script.

Putting Radha to sleep, Mad was sitting in drawing room and there he fell asleep. The sound of the clock got him out of his dream world. The clock struck five. Soon there would be light. With uncertain steps, he got up. He had to go—but he couldn’t leave keeping the front door open.


The bedroom door was wide open. Radha was sitting on the bed.
“Ma’am—I am going.”
“Why?”

“Why? “Why?” The question knocked Mad off. “At O2, we just met few hours back—you don’t even know me.” He babbled awkwardly.

“But you brought me home. Babysat me for the whole night. “
“You were not well. I couldn’t leave a sick person alone.”
“Then don’t go,” – losing all sense Radha cried out like a pampered kid.
“Ma’am- I can’t.”
“If you leave I will be dead. I want to live.”
“Ma’am – you are still not well. May be you should call a relative.”
“No. Please don’t walk out of my life. Last night, I have done lots of stupid things. But after a long time, I felt alive. Otherwise I was just a dead body- may be not ugly but dead. You are the only one who has treated me as a living human.”
“Ma’am please, please understand- I am a stranger.”.
“You are the only one who gave me a sense of belonging. Can’t you be my friend? I don’t have anybody to talk to.”
Something broke within Madhusudan. Suddenly the veil of anonymity was lifted. Radha was no longer an elderly housewife- but a lonely soul looking for recognition—pleading for acceptance just the way he did with his smart intellectual friends.
Age, status and social barriers were forgotten. Protective instinct rose within him. Lowering his head, he kissed Radha on her forehead and said next Sunday I will wait for you at the gate.

O2 is not the type of meeting places, that college students can afford. One has to buy at least a couple pegs to get entry over there. But it is one of the places where people don’t judge each other. Two lonely souls can meet here quite often, to breathe in fresh oxygen from one another. Here, Mad and Radha drank to each other’s pain and recharged their moribund spirit with the oxygen of life.


0 Love

"Ek pal ko jab dusre hi pal aap se chhin liya jaye Wo kahani ban jati hai,, Kahani us ghari ki jaha pal bhi kabhi tham jaya karti thi, Kahani us intezaar ki jab har pal katna badi mushkil lagti thi, Kahani us lamhe ki jab maano koi sadiyo tak use apni bahon mein kaid karna chahti ho, Kahani us pal ki jab kisine koi waada kiya ho, Kahani us pal ki jab wo wada tut-ta dikh raha ho, Kahani us pal ki jab kisine aapka haat thama ho, Kahani us pal ki jab koi pas hokar bhi saath na ho, Kahani us pal ki jab maano pehli bar kisi ki aankho ne shayad kuch bolne ki koshish ki ho, Kahani us daur ki jab aap khud wo ghari ho, Kahani us waqt ki bhi jaha har ek pal koi aapse chhinke kahani bana raha ho, Kahani us ghari ki bhi jab ye kahani khatam ho raha ho, Par ye kahani hai kiski?? Shayad uski jo is kahani mein apni guzri kal dhund rahi ho Shayad uski jo apni beetein hue pal ko is mein taalash rahi ho.. Par kya ye kahani un sabki nahi jo in palon ke hissedar ho? Kya ye kahani un sab ki nahi jo in palon mein kaid ho? Kya un sab ki nahi jo kisike zindagi ho? Kya ye sirf us insaan ki hai jo in palon ko sameta ho? Kya un logo ki nahi jinko sameta ho? Kya ye sirf uski hai jo in palon ko kahani bante dekh rahi ho.. ................... .......... ...... .... .... ... M.. ..... ..... ..... .... .... ...."

Ek pal ko jab dusre hi pal aap se chhin liya jaye
Wo kahani ban jati hai,,
Kahani us ghari ki jaha pal bhi kabhi
 tham jaya karti thi,
Kahani us intezaar ki jab har pal katna
 badi mushkil lagti thi,
Kahani us lamhe ki jab maano koi sadiyo tak
 use apni bahon mein kaid karna chahti ho,
Kahani us pal ki jab kisine koi waada kiya ho,
Kahani us pal ki jab wo wada tut-ta dikh raha ho,
Kahani us pal ki jab kisine aapka haat thama ho,
Kahani us pal ki jab koi pas hokar bhi saath na ho, 
Kahani us pal ki jab maano pehli bar 
kisi ki aankho ne shayad kuch bolne ki koshish ki ho,
Kahani us daur ki jab aap khud wo ghari ho, 
Kahani us waqt ki bhi jaha har ek pal 
koi aapse chhinke kahani bana raha ho, 
Kahani us ghari ki bhi jab ye kahani khatam ho raha ho, 
Par ye kahani hai kiski?? 
Shayad uski jo is kahani mein apni guzri kal dhund rahi ho
Shayad uski jo apni beetein hue pal ko is mein taalash rahi ho..
Par kya ye kahani un sabki nahi jo in palon ke hissedar ho? 
Kya ye kahani un sab ki nahi jo in palon mein 
kaid ho?
 Kya un sab ki nahi jo kisike zindagi ho? 
Kya ye sirf us insaan ki hai jo
 in palon ko sameta ho? 
Kya un logo ki nahi jinko sameta ho? 
Kya ye sirf uski hai jo in palon ko 
kahani bante dekh rahi ho..

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... M.. 
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9 Love

"Radha-Krishna....jo byaan krte h schi prem khani Pr kanha ki toh meera jesi bhut ldkiyan h deewani Yeh sb jaan kr radha ki aankhon se nikl aata h paani Krishna smjhaye radha ko mt kro tum yeh naadani Radha khe...prem kiya hmne lekin vivah apka rukmani se hua Jb hmne scha pyar kiya toh jiwan hmara kuun ek nhi hua Kanha ne bhut pyaar se smjhaya... Or kanha ki baat sunkr radha ka mn bhi harshaya Kanha bole....yeh toh shareer hmare alg h priye Lekin ruh toh ek hi h na....radha me kanha...kanha me radha h....toh fir kase hm alg hue "

Radha-Krishna....jo byaan krte h schi prem khani Pr kanha ki toh meera jesi bhut ldkiyan h deewani
Yeh sb jaan kr radha ki aankhon se nikl aata h paani
Krishna smjhaye radha ko mt kro tum yeh naadani
Radha khe...prem kiya hmne lekin vivah apka rukmani se hua
Jb hmne scha pyar kiya toh jiwan hmara kuun ek nhi hua
Kanha ne bhut pyaar se smjhaya...
Or kanha ki baat sunkr radha ka mn bhi harshaya
Kanha bole....yeh toh shareer hmare alg h priye
Lekin ruh toh ek hi h na....radha me kanha...kanha me radha h....toh fir kase hm alg hue

#Nojoto#Love#Radha#Krishna#Prem

47 Love

"One sided Love Love, a feeling, emotion or an action.We all fall in love. We love our parents, friends, family and special one. Now, love as one sided or both is a tricky thing. Do we ever able to realize whether love is one sided or both? I guess no. When we love we just love without expecting anything from anyone. The words ego, self respect, well beings all vain away, as love itself is a strong feeling that fades away others. Radha loved Krishna even Rukmani too. But both belonging to same sunsign have their destinies different. For one krishna was everything but couldn't get him, for other Krishna was her stubbornness but got him. So, now was Radha's love one sided. Did krishna didn't love her. Why Radha didn't come back but Krishna when left this world remembered Radha all the time? Would love to have yours suggestions, feedback on One sided love in comment section...."

One sided Love Love, a feeling, emotion or an action.We all fall in love. We love our parents, friends, family and special one. Now, love as one sided or both is a tricky thing. Do we ever able to realize whether love is one sided or both? I guess no.
When we love we just love without expecting anything from anyone. The words ego, self respect, well beings all vain away, as love itself is a strong feeling that fades away others. Radha loved Krishna even Rukmani too. But both belonging to same sunsign have their destinies different. For one krishna was everything but couldn't get him, for other Krishna was her stubbornness but got him. So, now was Radha's love one sided. Did krishna didn't love her. Why Radha didn't come back but Krishna when left this world remembered Radha all the time?

Would love to have yours suggestions, feedback on One sided love in comment section....

#Love#thistimeyourviews#connectwithme

76 Love
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"//PHLE KUCH ALAG THI KAHANI// |READ IN CAPTION|"

//PHLE KUCH ALAG THI KAHANI//
|READ IN CAPTION|

//PHLE KUCH ALAG THI KAHANI//
Phle Kuch alag thi kahani
Radio fm bhi 11:00 bje k bad chup hojaya krte the,
Qki tab der rat tak jaagne ke silsile ni hua krte the

Phle kuch alg thi kahani,
Chandni raat me chand ko ishq smjh kr,us se guftgu krte the ,
Kyuki tb humsafar har pal WhatsApp pr available ni hua krte the.

Phle kuch alg thi kahani,
Bacche khelte the ghr- ghr,dil ko yun behlane k liye,
Kyuki tb rishto se khelne ke zamane ni hua krte the.

Phle kuch alg thi kahani,
Itwaar bhi mano tyohaar sa tha,dost bhi sare yaar se the,
Kyuki tb Instagram stories jese 24 ghnte tk simti yaadein ni bnaya krte the.

Phle kuch alg thi kahani,
Shaamein bhi hua krti thi,baatein bhi hua krti thi,
Kyuki tb subah se shaam tk ankhe mobile screens pr ni tika krti thi.

Phle kuch alg thi kahani,
Tasveero ko sanjho kr rkha krte the,bs vhi purani yaadein hua krti thi,
Kyuki tb Snapchat filters or saved memories ki gunjaiyish hi ni hua krti thi.

Phle kuch alg thi kahani,
Pyaar-e-izhaar yun hi nighaao se zahir hojata tha or dil lga beththe the,
Kyuki tb humsafar tinder ke right swipe see nhi dil swipe se milte the.

Phle kuch alg thi kahani,
Dekhte the unhe nighaien bhrkr or jese hi vo dekhein to nazrein chura lete the,
Kyuki tb mohabbat un gallery ke saved folders me nhi balki ankho me dhundte the.

Phle kuch alg thi kahani,
Vo pyaari si lukachupi or dosto ki matargasti dil ko khoob lubhati thi,
Kyuki tb luka chupi WhatsApp k last seen se nhi zindadili se khela krte the.

Han,phle kuch alg thi kahani,
Jb zindagi jeene ke kuch haseen saleeke hua krte the,
Khi Muskaan toh khi thahako ke charche hua krte the.

Kis gali kho gyi ye purani phchan?
Kbhi dil se dhundne toh niklo janab,
Usi nukkad ki dukaan pr zindagi ki jalebiyan aj bhi bde shauk se khayi jati hai.
#RDV18 #Nojoto

9 Love