hamare desh me kehte the
har ladki hindustani
ya radha hai ya sita hai ya jhansi ki rani
rama ho rama rama ho rama rama ho rama

hamne ganv ke panghat pe bhai
hamne ganv ke panghat pe
dekhi thi panihariya
chakkar kha gaye ham to re
bhaiya dekh shahar ki nariya ho ho

yaha sadke hai vaha galiya thi
yaha kante hai vaha kaliya thi
vaha tanga tha yaha tamtam hai
vaha gori thi yaha madam hai
vaha payal thi yaha sandal hai
vaha jhumar tha yaha pandel hai
vaha ghunghat tha yaha jalva hai
vaha shanti thi yaha balva hai
bat bat pe karti hai ye ladne ki taiyariya
chakkar kha gaye ham

koi bulbul hai koi titli koi shola hai koi bijali hai
koi m.a hai koi b.a hai koi koi to p.a hai
bas nam hi to ek asli hai
baki jo hai sab nakli hai
kaisi doli kya barati khud chun le ye jivansathi
shadi se pehle karti hai
shadi se pehle karti hai
aksar prem kuvariya chakkar kha gaye ham

In our land, they whispered tales,
Each girl, a daughter of Hindustan,
A Radha, a Sita, or Jhansi's flame,
Rama ho Rama, Rama ho Rama.

At the village well, we'd watch them draw,
The water carriers, in sun-kissed grace,
But oh, the city's women, we were stunned,
Their forms, a blur, a dizzying pace.

Where roads now stretch, once narrow lanes did wind,
Where thorns now pierce, once blossoms softly bloomed,
A horse-drawn cart replaced the horse,
The fair maid gave way to the matron's form,
Anklets hushed, replaced by sandal's tread,
A chandelier replaced the pendant's gleam,
The veil now lifted, a brazen show,
Where peace once reigned, now battles rage below,
They stand prepared for constant strife,
The city women, dizzying our life.

Some are nightingales, some butterflies,
Some a fiery blaze, others lightning's strike,
Some hold degrees, some rise above,
Some have a PA, in this chaotic love,
The real one is just a name it seems,
The rest, a facade, a false dream,
No wedding procession, no carriage's chime,
They choose their own, defying time,
Before the vows, they often seek,
In love's deep well, their hearts to speak,
The city women, dizzying our life.