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“Dear Negi, You're a very good girl, you are very special for us, so be near our heart. You are the cloud of rain of my dreams, I want to stay wet…… Listen I have written a little Poem for you…. Maybe you like एक पागल दीवानी सी लड़की, ना किसी से ज्यादा बोलती चुप- चुप सी रहती, जब भी बस बोलती धीरे -2 बोलती, मानो बारिश के जैसे ना कोई शोर है उसमें, ना कोई सन्नाटा बस सागर की तरह वो बहती वो, तब कोई उस को ना पढ़ पाया, ना कोई उसको समझा, छोटी -2 आँखें उसकी, ना जाने क्या-क्या कहती, मेरी प्यारी सी सहेली ना किसी से ज्यादा बोलती, बस चुप- चुप सी रहती जो शख़्स अक़्सर दिखता, कोई ना कोई उसको कई दर्द देता, रखता उसको धोखे में जितने पल रूकती वो आकर, उस पल में सिमटी रहती, मेरी प्यारी सी सहेली ना किसी से ज्यादा बोलती, बस चुप- चुप सी रहती, अब वो गलत किसी का नहीं सुनती वो लम्हा आ गया अब सहसा उसका मुस्कुराता और सब के मन को जला देता…. प्यार भरा दिल है उसका एक मासूम - सी प्यारी - सी लड़की है वो, ना किसी से ज्यादा बोलती है, बस चुप- चुप सी रहती…… प्यारी-प्यारी आँखें है उसकी अब उन आँखों में मस्ती सी होती है भोली सी सूरत उसकी हमेशा मेरी नज़रों के आगे है हमेशा प्यार भरी आंखों से बातें करती है ऐसी है मेरी प्यारी सी सहेली जो मेरे से बातें करती है अगर आपको हमारी आज की पोस्ट पसंद आई है तो आप कमेंट करके बता सकते है आप हमारी पोस्ट अपने दोस्तों से भी शेयर कर सकते है और शेयर करके अपने दोस्तों को भी इसके बारे में बता सकते है | हम फिर नई कविता लेकर हाज़िर होंगे तब तक के लिए नमस्कार दोस्तों ! आपका दिन मंगलमय हो | Anu Mehta”

Quote by Anu mehta

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Anu mehta

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“Once you embrace your value, talents and strengths, it neutralizes when others think less of you.”

“Anoop had obviously worked quite hard to earn the money to buy that glitzy little bracelet. He certainly had enough calluses and deep scars on his hands and fingers to show for all his labour, as each was obtained while trying to support his family in the style they were accustom to. Nonetheless she frequently called him a lazy alcoholic, just because he was temporarily out of work, and then left the stupid bracelet out in public as if it were simply a cheap and silly trinket.”

“Do not manhandle me. My answer is no. I'm not for sale." "But you don't have any family left," said Nicolas, raising an eyebrow. The next few moments blurred together into one messed-up vision. A fist flying into Nicolas's nose. A loud crack. Blood splattering on Camille's dress. Rémi putting his arm around me. Jane, Phillipa, and Marie racing up to see what the commotion was all about. The clicks of cameras. A nightmare. "This is private property. You're no longer guests of the château. Leave now," said Rémi as Nicolas scrambled up from the ground. "And stay away, far away from my fiancée, or I'll hunt you down." Jane, Marie, and Phillipa flanked my sides, supporting my shaky body. Phillipa hissed to Nicolas. "You're wrong. Sophie has a family. She has all of us. And her dad." I couldn't help but smile. What Phillipa said was true. I had everything. "He broke my nose," said Nicolas, holding his hand up to his face, blood pouring down like a waterfall. "I'm going to press charges against you, all of you, you pieces of merde." "Go ahead," said Rémi. "We may not be as wealthy as you are, but we're not doing so bad. You can try to destroy us, but if you know Sophie as well as I do, you know she fights back. And hard. Believe me. Nothing, not you, not me, will stand in her way. You're the only one with a reputation to lose---and from what I've read, most people think you're the scum of the earth." Camille walked up the steps. "I'm out of here." She stopped and looked over her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Sophie. I should have known. Small dick, small mind." "I do not have a small dick," screamed Nicolas, his face turning red. The guests from the Sunday lunch clasped their hands over their mouths. I felt like I was the star of a B movie. Who were these people? Cartoon characters? "Oh, yes, you have a small penis. The smallest one I've ever seen," said Camille, winking at me. "And you think with it. Now, take me back to Paris so I can get rid of you. That is, unless you want my Instagram to blow up. Don't forget. I have pictures of your cornichon." Nicolas raced after Camille. "You salope, those pictures are private." Camille placed her hands on her skinny hips. "For now," she said. I had to give Camille credit when it was due; she wasn't a brain-dead model, she was fierce.”

“In my early twenties, I treated sex like a bartering system, trading giving for receiving, feeling victorious when I’d received more pleasure, and swindled when I’d given more. As I matured, sex became a bond that was only gratifying when both parties were equally satisfied.”

“Kindness has no price. It isn’t for sale but comprises the tens, hundreds and even thousands of ways we relate to people. It’s a lesson that I don’t feel most Boomers have ever understood. For them, everything in the world has a price tag. But then, that’s what they’ve learned from their time and place in the world. Anyone and anything can be bought.”