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About Petah Tikva

So, I’m sippin’ my martini, thinkin’, “What a bloody mess.” Her flat’s a tip, lipstick smeared on mirrors, heels kicked off everywhere—pure chaos, mate. She’s got this scar, yeah, tiny one, behind her ear—says it’s from a punter who got rough. “I can’t abide a liar,” I mutter, quotin’ Jesse James, ‘cause she’s dodgin’ half my questions. Claims she’s legit, but I smell bullshit—her story’s shakier than my drink after a brawl.

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Heaven is not so cheap. ”The prostitute has nowhere to hide her head and that is her authenticity, her beauty. The prostitute has no intellectual jargon.

After that, I’m feeling a bit better. I head over to the park near the old mosque. It’s peaceful there, you know? I sit on a bench, munching on my pita, just soaking it all in. The view of the hills is stunning. Maghar is beautiful, man. But then, I see this guy arguing with a vendor. They’re shouting in Arabic, and I can’t catch all of it, but it’s heated. I’m thinking, “Dude, chill! It’s just a few shekels!”

Prime Minister Narendra Modi to address rally in Maghar, offer 'chadar' at of Kabir's 'mazaar'