Is Vasl-e-yaar Just A Myth?

Wo kehte haina ke cheezein apne waqt mai qaid hai, jab sahi waqt ata hai toh sab hojata hai.

When the pain becomes too much to explain. When we’ve done everything we could, and still watched it all fall apart, we tell ourselves it was fate. Bcuz sometimes, no matter how hard we try, things don’t work out. People leave. Dreams break. Plans fall through. And we sit with the pieces, wondering if it was ever in our hands to begin with. We call it Naseeb—not because we’re weak, but because we’re human. Letting go and believing it was meant to be… sometimes that’s the only way to choose peace over endless questions.

When things fall apart and we’re too tired to try again, we call it fate.

It’s easier that way—blaming the stars instead of facing how much we’ve lost, or how much we couldn’t fix. Sometimes we gave everything and still ended up with nothing. So we tell ourselves it wasn’t meant to be. And in the silence that follows, we live with all the “what ifs” we’ll never get answers to.

Truly knowing someone is a heavy burden, a torment not everyone can bear. If you start reading faces, friendships will shatter. If you learn to recognize the truth in people’s eyes, some will disgust you. And if you try to uncover the secrets buried deep in their hearts, you will find wounds darker than you ever imagined.

If you can’t stop the rain from falling, hold their hand and stand with them as the drops soak your souls together. If you can’t dry their tears, let your own eyes fill as you sit beside them and share their sorrow. And if you can’t bring sleep to their restless nights, stay awake with them, talking, dreaming, or just sitting in silence. Love is not about solutions; it’s about presence, connection, and showing them they’ll never face life alone.

The truest and most beautiful form of love is simply being there for someone. It’s not about fixing everything or making their pain disappear, but about standing by them through it all.

I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself.

Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis

Whatever our souls are made of her and mine are the same:/

hiiii i love your blog sm<3 your posts are beautiful🌸

Thank you so much it means a lot <33

When things fall apart and we’re too tired to try again, we call it fate.

It’s easier that way—blaming the stars instead of facing how much we’ve lost, or how much we couldn’t fix. Sometimes we gave everything and still ended up with nothing. So we tell ourselves it wasn’t meant to be. And in the silence that follows, we live with all the “what ifs” we’ll never get answers to.

An era ends in Test cricket but the legacy will continue FOREVER! ♥️

People wear masks so well that their smiles can hide storms, their laughter can silence screams, and their words can be nothing but illusions. Sometimes, the ones closest to us carry the deepest betrayals, and the ones we trust the most are the ones who hurt us in ways we never saw coming.

But perhaps that’s why silence is a blessing. To know too much is to suffer too much. Maybe that’s why only God has the strength to bear it all—to see everything, to know every hidden sorrow, every untold lie, every silent cry, and yet, remain quiet.

Truly knowing someone is a heavy burden, a torment not everyone can bear. If you start reading faces, friendships will shatter. If you learn to recognize the truth in people’s eyes, some will disgust you. And if you try to uncover the secrets buried deep in their hearts, you will find wounds darker than you ever imagined.