mera naam bilqis yakub rasul
mujhse hui bas ek hi bhul
ki jab dhundte the vo ram ko
to main kha rhi thi raah mein
pehle ek ne puchha na mujhe kuch pata tha
duje ko bhi mera yehi javab tha
itno ne puchha ki mera ab saval hai ki
jinhe naaz hai hind par vo kaha the
jinhe naaz hai vo kaha hai

mera naam shriman satyendra dubey
jo kehna tha vo keh chuke
ab parhey hai rah mein
dil mein liye ik goli
bas itna kasur ki hamne likha tha
vo sach jo har kisi ki zuban tha
par sach yahan ho jate hai zahrile
jinhe naaz hai hind par vo kaha the
jinhe naaz hai vo kaha hai

mujhe kehte hai anna manjunath
maine dekhi bhatakti ek laash
zamir ki beech sadak lakhimpur kherhi
adarsh phasan jahan naaro mein
aur chor bharey darbaron mein
vahan maut akhlaq ki hai ik khabar baasi
jinhe naaz hai hind par vo kaha hai
jinhe naaz hai vo kaha hai
mazha nau aahe navleen kumar
unnees june unnees bar
unnees unnees unnees unnees
unnees baar

unnees unnees unnees unnees
unnees unnees unnees unnees
unnees unnees unnees unnees unnees baar
looto dehaat kholo bazaar nallasopara aur virar
chheeno zameen hamse hame bhejo pataal
jinhe naaz hai hind par vo kaha hai
jinhe naaz hai vo kaha hai
jinhe naaz hai vo kaha hai
jinhe naaz hai vo kaha hai
jinhe naaz hai vo kaha hai

My name, Bilqis Yaqub Rasul,
A single error, my soul accrues.
While they sought their Ram's embrace,
I, on the road, found my resting place.

The first one asked, I knew not a thing,
The second, the same answer did I bring.
Now, so many have asked, my question unfurls,
Where were those, who the pride of India are?
Where were those?

My name, Satyendra Dubey, a man of truth,
Spoke what had to be spoken, from my youth.
Now I lie still, on life's weary track,
A bullet lodged, a darkness I lack.
My only fault, to write what was true,
A truth that poisoned the air, the hue.
But here, the truths, they turn into lies,
Where were those, who the pride of India are?
Where were those?

I am Yana Manjunath, in a river's flow,
I saw a soul, wandering to and fro.
A conscience lost, on a highway's blight,
Ideals sold, in the slogans of night.
Thieves fill courts, with their hollow sound,
The death of Akhlaq, barely found.
Where are those, who the pride of India are?
Where are those?

My name, Navleen Kumar, a silent tear,
Nineteen June, nineteen years.
Nineteen nineteen, nineteen nineteen,
Nineteen times, a life unseen.

Nineteen nineteen, nineteen nineteen,
Nineteen nineteen, nineteen nineteen.
Nineteen nineteen, nineteen nineteen, nineteen times.
Rob the villages, open the market's greed,
Take our land, send us to the deep seed.
Where are those, who the pride of India are?
Where are those?
Where are those?
Where are those?
Where are those?