On the edge of Anarkali, tucked behind a weather‑worn wooden door, there is a small courtyard that most pedestrians never notice. The paint on the walls is peeling, and the only sign of life is the soft glow of a single lantern that swings gently as the night deepens. Inside, a quiet hum of conversations flows, punctuated by the occasional sigh of a tired sigh. https://callgirllahore.website/