How can I do this right? How can I express this feeling? I just feel it. I feel it like a volcano erupting through a burning mountain. It comes from the depth of millions of emotions that are preserved in my heart like the wine that is stored in the womb of the earth for centuries. This love is like a heady storm, I want it to be my destiny. There is no feeling that I feel and never feel for you. There is no breath I breathe and never breath for you. My heart! My heart! It is sick and on its pick of love, like Florentino Ariza in Love in the Time of Cholera.
Pretender... Pretends to be a part-time poet and researcher. He works as an Assistant Professor of English at Government College, Daman.
Tuesday, 8 February 2022
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घर
चिमुकल्याश्या फांदीवरती कुणी थाटले नाजूकसे घर किमया काय म्हणावी त्याची कोण म्हणावा किती कलन्दर तातुर-मातुर कुठले काही चोख विनाई चोख शिल...
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देह सुकतो, झुकतो, वाकतो कालांतराने तशी तू थकत गेलीस नियतीचं बोजड ओझं असहायपणे वाहताना अन सलत गेलं तुझं नव्या दमाचं स्त्रीपण अनेकांच्या डो...
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Subtle setting sun sickens me With his daily slumber. Light passes, and darkness prowls behind me Carrying thousands of needles. A sudden gu...
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रोज एक बात कहनी होती है रोज एक बात अधूरी रहती है रोज वक़्त बीत जाता है, रोज लम्हा गुज़र जाता है, रोज इस रोज़ से तंग आकर रोज उस रोज़ से आस रख...
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