You looked for beauty everywhere So you adored the plants and their flowers, And how the curtain of darkness Hid the way to the stars You searched for the secrets Which made the moon shine so bright, And spread it’s beauty all over, When calmness has taken over the night. You were always curious about the beauty, Possessed by everything you’ve known, But while admiring the beauty of others, You forgot to see your own. – Ritika Jain
You looked for beauty everywhere So you adored the plants and their flowers, And how the curtain of darkness Hid the way to the stars You searched for the secrets Which made the moon shine so bright, And spread it’s beauty all over, When calmness has taken over the night. You were always curious about the beauty, Possessed by everything you’ve known, But while admiring the beauty of others, You forgot to see your own. – Ritika Jain
You looked for beauty everywhere So you adored the plants and their flowers, And how the curtain of darkness Hid the way to the stars You searched for the secrets Which made the moon shine so bright, And spread it’s beauty all over, When calmness has taken over the night. You were always curious about the beauty, Possessed by everything you’ve known, But while admiring the beauty of others, You forgot to see your own. – Ritika Jain
You looked for beauty everywhere So you adored the plants and their flowers, And how the curtain of darkness Hid the way to the stars You searched for the secrets Which made the moon shine so bright, And spread it’s beauty all over, When calmness has taken over the night. You were always curious about the beauty, Possessed by everything you’ve known, But while admiring the beauty of others, You forgot to see your own. – Ritika Jain
You looked for beauty everywhere So you adored the plants and their flowers, And how the curtain of darkness Hid the way to the stars You searched for the secrets Which made the moon shine so bright, And spread it’s beauty all over, When calmness has taken over the night. You were always curious about the beauty, Possessed by everything you’ve known, But while admiring the beauty of others, You forgot to see your own. – Ritika Jain
You looked for beauty everywhere So you adored the plants and their flowers, And how the curtain of darkness Hid the way to the stars You searched for the secrets Which made the moon shine so bright, And spread it’s beauty all over, When calmness has taken over the night. You were always curious about the beauty, Possessed by everything you’ve known, But while admiring the beauty of others, You forgot to see your own. – Ritika Jain
You looked for beauty everywhere So you adored the plants and their flowers, And how the curtain of darkness Hid the way to the stars You searched for the secrets Which made the moon shine so bright, And spread it’s beauty all over, When calmness has taken over the night. You were always curious about the beauty, Possessed by everything you’ve known, But while admiring the beauty of others, You forgot to see your own. – Ritika Jain
You looked for beauty everywhere So you adored the plants and their flowers, And how the curtain of darkness Hid the way to the stars You searched for the secrets Which made the moon shine so bright, And spread it’s beauty all over, When calmness has taken over the night. You were always curious about the beauty, Possessed by everything you’ve known, But while admiring the beauty of others, You forgot to see your own. – Ritika Jain
Mysore’s grace, beyond compare, In hills and stones, a royal air. Amidst the calm, where silence’s given, She finds a peace — she calls it heaven. The trees still whisper tales of old, Of queens and kings, of days of gold. And in each breeze, so soft, so prime, She hears the hush of sacred time.
Mysore’s grace, beyond compare, In hills and stones, a royal air. Amidst the calm, where silence’s given, She finds a peace — she calls it heaven. The trees still whisper tales of old, Of queens and kings, of days of gold. And in each breeze, so soft, so prime, She hears the hush of sacred time.
Mysore’s grace, beyond compare, In hills and stones, a royal air. Amidst the calm, where silence’s given, She finds a peace — she calls it heaven. The trees still whisper tales of old, Of queens and kings, of days of gold. And in each breeze, so soft, so prime, She hears the hush of sacred time.
Mysore’s grace, beyond compare, In hills and stones, a royal air. Amidst the calm, where silence’s given, She finds a peace — she calls it heaven. The trees still whisper tales of old, Of queens and kings, of days of gold. And in each breeze, so soft, so prime, She hears the hush of sacred time.
Mysore’s grace, beyond compare, In hills and stones, a royal air. Amidst the calm, where silence’s given, She finds a peace — she calls it heaven. The trees still whisper tales of old, Of queens and kings, of days of gold. And in each breeze, so soft, so prime, She hears the hush of sacred time.
Mysore’s grace, beyond compare, In hills and stones, a royal air. Amidst the calm, where silence’s given, She finds a peace — she calls it heaven. The trees still whisper tales of old, Of queens and kings, of days of gold. And in each breeze, so soft, so prime, She hears the hush of sacred time.
Mysore’s grace, beyond compare, In hills and stones, a royal air. Amidst the calm, where silence’s given, She finds a peace — she calls it heaven. The trees still whisper tales of old, Of queens and kings, of days of gold. And in each breeze, so soft, so prime, She hears the hush of sacred time.
Mysore’s grace, beyond compare, In hills and stones, a royal air. Amidst the calm, where silence’s given, She finds a peace — she calls it heaven. The trees still whisper tales of old, Of queens and kings, of days of gold. And in each breeze, so soft, so prime, She hears the hush of sacred time.
Mysore’s grace, beyond compare, In hills and stones, a royal air. Amidst the calm, where silence’s given, She finds a peace — she calls it heaven. The trees still whisper tales of old, Of queens and kings, of days of gold. And in each breeze, so soft, so prime, She hears the hush of sacred time.
Mysore’s grace, beyond compare, In hills and stones, a royal air. Amidst the calm, where silence’s given, She finds a peace — she calls it heaven. The trees still whisper tales of old, Of queens and kings, of days of gold. And in each breeze, so soft, so prime, She hears the hush of sacred time.
Mysore’s grace, beyond compare, In hills and stones, a royal air. Amidst the calm, where silence’s given, She finds a peace — she calls it heaven. The trees still whisper tales of old, Of queens and kings, of days of gold. And in each breeze, so soft, so prime, She hears the hush of sacred time.
Mysore’s grace, beyond compare, In hills and stones, a royal air. Amidst the calm, where silence’s given, She finds a peace — she calls it heaven. The trees still whisper tales of old, Of queens and kings, of days of gold. And in each breeze, so soft, so prime, She hears the hush of sacred time.
Behind The Glam: Acting, Sets & Sisterhood – The Untold Story of Neha & Sonu @sonugowda @neharamakrishna ❤️ Promo today evening and episode tomorrow evening 5:55pm 🤩 Just loved the episode. Neha gowda, Sonu gowda , Neha Ramakrishna, Gold class
Just fun, laughter and maja this episode with sisters @neharamakrishna and @sonugowda ❤️❤️ Watch it right away on @goldclasswithmayuurra YouTube channel 🤗 @rjmayuurra_raghavendraa
I loved shooting maybe my favourite people were around me or it is Mysore vibes I don’t know.. VC @akhilpicz_0806
