He loves playing with heart.
She loves playing with words.
He got another toy.
She got another reason to write.

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Everything is a game and
not playing is not the solution.

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He love's to play the Game of Words,
But he never forget to feed those Birds,
Finally, comes the time when he knew he will die soon
All he said “Don't forget to feed those birds with my favorite spoon” !

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She was the puppet
in the hand of a monster,
who lap up in
being a master.
Controlled movements of
her parts through
the string attached to her heart.
Synchronizes the movements
of her with his spoken part.
Alive with a dead heart to her every breath
seems to be last.
Earlier,
He delighted himself
by toying with
her parts
and made her
a puppet
after being used, left detached.
Later,
She intiated toying with words n ideas
and made herself a legend.

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Being loved by him was Her Dream.
Playing with her was His Hobby.

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Playing with the kids, my first assignment after reaching home. I learn a lot of things from children, which I have never learned from others!

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My first memory is of playing cricket with the security guard of the building I live in. Whenever I got out, I used to throw my bat in anger and rush upstairs in rage.

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Tera PUBG ka pyaar,
Yhi Teri girlfriend, yhi tera yaar,
Bhul gya duniya dari or ye sansar,
Esa ajib tere PUBG ka pyaar,
Rokti hu tujhe, har din har baar,
Mat maara kar ese dushmano ko yaar,
Ufff! Tera yeh PUBG ka pyaar,
Raat hote hi tujhe kuch hota hai yaar,
Subah sote ho, raat bhar khelte rhta ho yaar,
Dushmano ko chip kar maaro,
sapne mein bad badate ho yaar,
Maar padne ke dar se,
mere aate hi notes padne lgte ho yaar,
Samajh to sab aata hai mujhe,
phir sochti hu, chado Jane do yaar... 😅😅

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I go playing ground.........

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Teasing someone is not a crime...
but playing with there feelings is more than that..!!

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