Baseball, more than any other sport, has a magical way of connecting fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, grandparents and grandchildren and ancestors back down the line. - From The Brooklyn Nine
Milte Nahi Jo Haq Wo Liye
Jate Hain, Hain Azad Hum
Par Gulam Kiye Jate Hain
Un Sipahiyon Ko Shat Shat
Naman Karo, Maut Ke Saaye
Me Jo Jeeye Jate Hain..!
HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY
Yakeen Na Ho To Hume Aazma
Ke Dekh Lena, Mere Dil Ke
Hazaar Tukde Karwa Ke Dekh
Lena, Har Tukdre Pe Aap Hi
Ka Naam Hoga, Chaahe Koi Bhi
Tukdra Utha Ke Dekh Lena..!
Kyu chupke se wo log utar jate hai dil me
Jinse kabhi kismat ke sitare nahi milte
pyar ke bhawar me ye keh ke chhod diya
ki kabhi nadiyo ke dono kinare nahi milte.
In the book Soldiers on the Home Front, I was greatly struck by the fact that in childbirth alone, women commonly suffer more pain, illness and misery than any war hero ever does. An what's her reward for enduring all that pain? She gets pushed aside when she's disfigured by birth, her children soon leave, hear beauty is gone. Women, who struggle and suffer pain to ensure the continuation of the human race, make much tougher and more courageous soldiers than all those big-mouthed freedom-fighting heroes put together.
Har Insaan Ki Alag Pehchan Hoti Hai,
Par Hamare SMS Ki Alag Hi Shaan Hoti Hai.
Har kisi ko karte nahin SMS Mgr dost
jisko Karte Hain Us Me Hamari Jaan Hoti Hai.
Basant khelein ishq ki aa pyara Tumhin mein chand mein hoon jyon sitara Jeevan ke houzkhana mein rang madan bhar So rom rom charkiya laye dhara Nabi sade basant khelia kutub shah Rangeela ho riha tirlok saara