kuch hone laga, kya hone laga
ye humse na puchho huzur
mausam ki ye masti hai
ya teri najar ka surur
kuch hone laga, kya hone laga

mujhe aise to chhuo na
jara pass aane do
pyas dil me hai kya
jara samjhane do
na pass na bulao
ye pyas na jagana
pass na bula
ye pyas na jaga
ae kya hua
ye humse na puchho huzur
bhul kahin koi ho jaye na
rahna jara dur dur

kab ye duriya mitegi
aisi baat karo na baat
chhodo aisi shararat mere sath karo na
ye dil hai diwana
na manega bahana
ye dil hai diwana
na manega bahana
ae kya hua
ye humse na puchho huzur
are na tera hai na mera hai
ye hai apni umar ka kusur

chalo sham ho rahi hai
ab raat aayegi raat
raat milne ki rut sath layegi
na aake kuch na kahna
ha ab to chup hi rahna
ae kya hua
ye humse na puchho huzur
jo ye pyasa dil chahe wo kaise karu manjur

Something stirs, what stirs I cannot say,
Ask not of me, my dear, I cannot say.
This revelry of season's breath,
Or intoxication from your gaze's sway.
Something stirs, what stirs I cannot say.

Do not touch me so, not yet,
Let nearness gently come to play.
A thirst within the heart, it beats,
Let its silent language find its way.
Do not call near, do not ignite,
This fire that burns, its hungry sway.
Do not call near, do not ignite,
Oh, what is this, I cannot say?
Ask not of me, my dear, I cannot say,
Lest a wrong be done, a misstep made,
Best to stay afar, to keep away.

When shall these distances dissolve?
Speak not such words, I plead to you.
Abandon this mischief, let it cease,
Do not play these games, I beg of you.
This heart, it is a mad one, it is crazed,
It will not heed excuses true.
This heart, it is a mad one, it is crazed,
It will not heed excuses true.
Oh, what is this, I cannot say?
Ask not of me, my dear, I cannot say,
Neither yours nor mine, the fault it lays,
Upon our youth's impatient way.

The evening falls, shadows lengthen,
The night will come, a whispered plea.
The night will bring a meeting’s kiss,
Say nothing then, just let it be.
Come close, but speak no word at all,
And now, be silent, just for me.
Oh, what is this, I cannot say?
Ask not of me, my dear, I cannot say,
How to fulfill the heart’s desire,
When it is parched, and begs of me?