kahan ho duniya ke rakhwalo
ek nazar in par bhi dalo
dekho ye dukhiyo ki katare
chhin gayi hain inki bahare
ye sare insaan lute hain
inke sab armaan lute hain
inke sapne tut gaye hain
sathi pichhe chhut gaye hain
aise haal huye hain inke
jaise ho tufan ke tinke
haye siyasat kitni gandi
buri hain kitni firka bandi
aaj ye sab ke sab nar nari
ho gaye raste ke bhikari
lute hain lakho suhaag gharo ke
bujhe hain lakho chiraag gharo ke
puchho aaj kahenge ye mukhde
kitni chudiyo ke ho gaye tukde
dekho humne ghar ko kis tarah baanta hain
ek hath me hath dusra kaata hain

dekho ye ghayal taqdeere
gam ki ye jinda tasveere
koi na inko suhagan kahna
kahna ho to abhagan kahna
kahin par inke pyare chhin gaye
kahin par inke dulare chhin gaye
inka dil kuch aisa hain tuta
inko lagta hain jag jhutha
inko hui hain jahan se nafrat
inko hui hain insaan se nafrat
apni ye dukhiyare bahne
kaun si duniya me jaye rahne
inko dhokha dene walo
inse badla lene walo
kaho inhone kya tha bigada
inka ghar kyu tumne ujada
chhin liye kyu inke khilone
kaun sa paap kiya tha inhone
lakho prani juda huye lachar bane
are ye kaisa dharm ki jo diwaar bane
are ye kaisa dharm ki jo diwaar bane
are ye kaisa dharm ki jo diwaar bane
are ye kaisa dharm ki jo diwaar bane

Where are you, keepers of the world,
Cast a glance, let sorrows be unfurled.
See these lines of the afflicted,
Whose springs of joy are now restricted.

These souls, robbed of all they held dear,
Their every wish, a fading tear.
Their dreams shattered, a broken plight,
Companions lost to endless night.
Such a state has fallen on them,
Like straws caught in a raging storm's hymn.

Alas, how filthy is the game of power,
How vile the walls built by the hour.
Today, all of these men and women,
Have become beggars of the open.
Millions of homes, their happiness plundered,
Millions of lights, their flames surrendered.
Ask these faces, etched with woe,
How many bangles have broken, you know.
See how we've torn our homes apart,
One hand outstretched, the other a shard.

Behold these wounded destinies,
Living portraits of agonies.
Do not call them "fortunate" now,
Call them "unlucky," by fate's vow.
Somewhere, their beloved taken,
Somewhere, their dearest forsaken.
Their hearts, so deeply rent,
The world feels false, a lie it sent.
They now despise the world's embrace,
They hate humanity's cruel face.
These sorrowful sisters of ours,
In what world can they find their powers?

You who betrayed, you who took revenge,
Tell me, what wrong did they engage?
Why did you ravage their homes with blight?
Why did you steal their childhood's light?
What sin did they ever commit?
Millions separated, powerless, they sit.
Oh, what kind of faith builds this wall?
Oh, what kind of faith—that makes us fall?
Oh, what kind of faith—that makes us fall?
Oh, what kind of faith—that makes us fall?
Oh, what kind of faith—that makes us fall?