Slowly the golden memory of the dead sun fades from the hearts of the cold, sad clouds. Silent, like sorrowing children, the birds have ceased their song, and only the moorhen’s plaintive cry and the harsh croak of the corncrake stirs the awed hush around the couch of waters, where the dying day breathes out her last

Real happiness lies with the family only...

Only the man who extols the purity of love devoid of desire, is capable of the depravity of a desire devoid of love.

Life in childhood isn't the same for everyone,so never judge a child by his acts unless you know his past.

Written By Zoha

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