

So are you ready to rock the floor with our raat ka Manoj Tiwari...c'mon ladies...Partyyy!🥳



DANCE PRACTICE 12.8
Yeh Rishta Kya Kehlata Hai August 12, 2025 Episode Discussion Thread
BALH Naya Season EDT Week # 9: Aug 11 - Aug 15
Yeh Rishta Kya Kehlata Hai - 13 Aug 2025 EDT
Param Sundari trailer out now
Kiara Advani's bikini scene cut from WAR2
Jaya Bachchan loses her cool againnn
Anupamaa 12 -13 Aug 2025 Written Update & Daily Discussions Thread
Kiara advani hairy face!!!
War 2 -Movie Reviews & BO Discussion
EGO BRUISED 13.8
Ranbir and Alia’s sick love!!!
Anupama fails to make Rahi Apologise
My Box Office Predictions for War 2
Is Nikkeji a negative character or positive? Genuine question
This SONG will Dethrone Saiyaara Title Track Buzz
Kareena home workout routine!!!
Kangu Blasts Jaya Bachchan
19 years of KANK.
R. Balki movies
Suddenly a gentle wave of west wind came even making the gentle water dance in its unvoiced song. The little yet sensational chill washed over me like a gentle affectionate touch.
There's a lamppost by the bank of the lake by the wooden pier. No one knows who placed it here. But I like to think it as ancient as time itself. Who knows how many stories it has witnessed? What if the lamppost could talk? Will the lamppost depict the moments it lived through? Be it sweet or bitter, be it smiles or tears. What it will be like to hear those stories which are unknown and untold still left a mark in the pages of time?
Nature has voice which tries to disclose what has been closed. Upon closing my eyes, I can feel the whispers. The silly wind along with the wise gentle waves. The meek insects from the brave heart tree leaves.
While being here and alone, I can finally feel my heart. The steady beat hums the song of life and soul. As my eyes grew heavy I sat there by the bank of the lake watched the birds returning to their nest. If only I had a nest my own! Nature carries great power. But even nature cannot defeat death that lurks in the shadowy corner just at the border of life. As my heart beat started fading, I stare at the dusk that approached. The lamppost has been lit up. So many stories to hear, so many lives to leaf through if only I had more time and the lamppost could talk. Now it will have another story into its disposal. The musing of a dying girl. The last musing of a girl unknown.
The dusk approached stealthily spreading a lovely blush among the cheek of the mighty sky. Just like the sly touch of love breaching the strongest barrier of the bravest heart. The insects are glowing in the shy bath of the blush that the dusk brought. Even the water of the lake is serene as if stealing as much as quite moment it can.
Suddenly a gentle wave of west wind came even making the gentle water dance in its unvoiced song. The little yet sensational chill washed over me like a gentle affectionate touch.
There's a lamppost by the bank of the lake by the wooden pier. No one knows who placed it here. But I like to think it as ancient as time itself. Who knows how many stories it has witnessed? What if the lamppost could talk? Will the lamppost depict the moments it lived through? Be it sweet or bitter, be it smiles or tears. What it will be like to hear those stories which are unknown and untold still left a mark in the pages of time?
Nature has voice which tries to disclose what has been closed. Upon closing my eyes, I can feel the whispers. The silly wind along with the wise gentle waves. The meek insects from the brave heart tree leaves.
While being here and alone, I can finally feel my heart. The steady beat hums the song of life and soul. As my eyes grew heavy I sat there by the bank of the lake watched the birds returning to their nest. If only I had a nest my own! Nature carries great power. But even nature cannot defeat death that lurks in the shadowy corner just at the border of life. As my heart beat started fading, I stare at the dusk that approached. The lamppost has been lit up. So many stories to hear, so many lives to leaf through if only I had more time and the lamppost could talk. Now it will have another story into its disposal. The musing of a dying girl. The last musing of a girl unknown.