aa gaye hai ghar mein to daddy
aur mammy ne hame danta
gaye school mein to pad gaya
teacher ka ek chata
jo tode baag se amarud
pakad hamko maali ne
bacha kar jaan bhage haye
lekin chubh gaya kanta

koi hamko haye ho koi hamko
bata de ki jaye kaha
koi hamko bata de ki jaye kaha
ho apne pichhe pada hai ye sara jaha
apne pichhe pada hai ye sara jaha
ha ji ha ji ha ji ha ji
koi hamko bata de ki jaye kaha

ye puchha master ji ne
sabak kyo yaad aadha hai
sabak kyo yaad aadha hai
kaha hamne kitabo ka
vajan hamse jayada hai
vajan hamse jayada hai
ye puchha master ji ne
ye puchha master ji ne
nahi padhne se kya hoga
kaha hamne wahi hoga
ho jo manjure khuda hoga
jo manjure khuda hoga
ho fail ham ho gaye
jab hua imtihan
ha ji ha ji ha ji
koi hamko bata de ki jaye kaha

Daddy’s home, the house descends,
Mother’s scolding voice extends.
At school, a stinging hand descends,
A teacher’s slap, where sorrow blends.

Stolen guavas from the trees,
The gardener’s grip, a chilling breeze.
We flee, our lives a desperate plea,
A thorn’s sharp kiss, a misery.

Oh, tell us, oh, where do we go?
Tell us, the path we need to know.
The world pursues, a heavy blow,
Where can we hide, where can we grow?

The teacher asks, with piercing stare,
“Why but half the lesson there?”
“Why but half?” The words we share,
“The books weigh more than we can bear.”

“What fate awaits, if we won’t learn?”
“The will of God, what we discern.”
The will of God, the tables turn,
When failure's shadow starts to burn.

We failed the test, the final plea,
Oh, tell us, oh, where do we flee?