tum dono ho kitne achhe, chhodo gussa jhuthe sache
tum dono ho kitne achhe, chhodo gussa jhuthe sache
ache bacche jid nahi karte, ache bacche jidd nahi karte
tum dono ho kitne achhe, chhodo gussa jhuthe sache

unkle ji kuch bolo ji, aunty ji muh kholo ji
hasna muskil lagta hai to thoda sa rolo ji
unkle ji kuch bolo ji, aunty ji muh kholo ji
hasna mushkil lagta hai to thoda sa rolo ji
tum dono ho zid ke pakke, chhodo gusse jhuthe sache
ache bache zid nahi karte
ache bache zid nahi karte, tum dono ho kitne ache

aapas me karlo mel aao khele koi khel
siti gaurd bajaye to jhuk jhuk jhuk jhuk daude rel
aapas me karlo mel aao khelo koi khel
siti gaurd bajaye to jhuk jhuk jhuk jhuk daude rel
dilli se pahuche kalkatte, chhodo gussa jhuthe sache
ache bache jid nahi karte
ache bache jid nahi karte, tum dono ho kitne ache

tum to bade kehlate ho choto ko samjhate ho
choti choti bato par tum bache ban jate ho
tum to bade kehlate ho choto ko samjhate ho
choti choti bato par tum bacche ban jaate ho
satrah atharah sal ke bache, chhodo gussa jhuthe sache
ache bache zid nahi karte
ache bache zid nahi karte, tum dono ho kitne ache

Two shining lights, a fragile grace,
Cast off anger, falsehood's trace.
How pure you are, in heart and deed,
Release the anger, plant a seed.
Good children do not cling to will,
Good children, their small hearts fulfill.
Two shining lights, a gentle plea.

Uncle, speak, let words take flight,
Auntie, open to the light.
If laughter's locked, and tears may fall,
Let sorrow soften, heed the call.
Uncle, speak, let words take flight,
Auntie, open to the light.
You, stubborn souls, in tangled thread,
Release the anger, softly shed.
Good children do not cling to will,
Two shining lights, a loving thrill.

Join hands, embrace, a game to start,
The whistle blows, a beating heart.
If city guards their stations keep,
The train will run, from slumber deep.
Join hands, embrace, a game to start,
The whistle blows, a beating heart.
From Delhi's heart to Kolkata's shore,
Release the anger, evermore.
Good children do not cling to will,
Two shining lights, your hearts to fill.

You, elders claim, a guiding hand,
To little ones, you understand.
Yet petty squabbles, childish cries,
Reflect a soul that never dies.
You, elders claim, a guiding hand,
To little ones, you understand.
Seventeen, eighteen, lost in play,
Release the anger, come what may.
Good children do not cling to will,
Two shining lights, your hearts to still.