muddar ke bad ham ye khushiya man rahehai
muddar ke bad ham ye diye jala rahe hai
muddar ke bad gunja hai ye bulandnara
muddar ke bad gunja hai ye bulandnara
aajad ho gaya hai hindustan hamar

bhart hai rini unka jo hai
shahid sachche
balidan de gaye jo budhe jawn bachche
unhi ke sir se rangin hai
ye chaman hamara
unhi ke sir se rangin hai
ye chaman hamara
aajad ho gaya hai hindustan hamar

After an age, we celebrate this joy,
After an age, we light these lamps anew.
After an age, this mighty cry rings out,
After an age, this mighty cry rings out:
India, our India, is free at last, it's true.

India is debtor to those who fell,
The true martyrs, their spirits bright and bold.
Who gave their lives, both young and old as well,
Whose sacrifice, a story to be told.
By their blood, this garden blooms, we know,
By their blood, this garden blooms in vibrant grace.
India, our India, is free, aglow.
India, our India, finds its rightful place.