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All kinds of flowers are blooming in the brightly colored lawn of Urdu poetry ... Bathing in fragrances and smelling with bright colors, looking at the sad sad beauty with restless eyes, magicians of captivating characters, traveling to new worlds, yearning for life in dry moments and filling the sparkle of colors, of love Ambassador, captive poets of melancholy. ... And sometimes there is a flower in a distant corner, in the relay of flowing sounds, there is also a voice apart from all of them, which, when it touches your poetic taste or experience of art, divides your being into two parts. Able to distribute, that is, one part: when you did not go through this fragrant experience, and the other part: the subsequent.