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anam gour

*papa ak asa insaan jiske demaag me duniya bhar ke tension or dil me apne bachoo ki fikr hoti he,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

*dekha he mene apne papa ko kaam krte hui,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

*dekha he unhe apna dard cheepate hui,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

*dekha he apne papa ko mene kaam krte hui kitni mahnat se hamaare liye kaam krte he hum bhuke naa rahe is liye din raat kaam krte he,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

*kabhi apni takleef hame batate nahi kabhi apne duk hame dekhaate nahi he,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

*kaam se ghr aa kar hame asa mahsus krate he jase ke wo thake he nahi,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

*hamare liye din raat kaam krte he taki hamari har khawais puri ho sake,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

*khud bhukhe rhe kar hamare liye khana late he,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

*mujhe ye to nahi pta is duniya memhaan insaan kon he,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

*mgr is puri duniya me papa se mhaan insaan koi bhi…

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Pure Glory

by Apostle Gabriel Cross

Worship is only a verb, when our heart is in it. Regardless, of what the world says or how the enemy is trying to paint your picture, remind him, “I believe in something More!”

God is my more than enough. He is more than the whole world against me. Who can be against me, when I know God is for me?

Lord, your worship is in my heart because my heart is in You.

© Crown of Glory International Ministries. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission, from this blog’s author and/or owner, is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Crown of Glory International Ministries, http://pureglory.net

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पिता (FATHER)

I love this poem. Here the love of a child for father is very well expressed.

I tried with Google translator on the original poem written in hindi language and got the following.

I find those in the mind,
I bow that head there,
Under whose shadow
I am able to define,
Thoughts which I can do,
Bring success to life,
They are such priests,
Whose I am called son.

Whenever hopeless ever happens,
Or get upset,
While still on the path,
The path gets confused,
Then the mother gives wishes,
And from where I bring patience,
Resolving confusing paths,
Then I get it from ancestral knowledge,
They are such priests,
Whose songs I sing.