jab shamma jali mahfil mein parvano ne pukara
jabab nahi tumhara aur class nahi hamara
jab shamma jali mahfil mein parvano ne pukara
jabab nahi tumhara aur class nahi hamara

main shamma hun akeli mere lakho hai parvane
teiyar sabhi baithe hai jalne ke liye diwane
main shamma hun akeli mere lakho hai parvane
teiyar sabhi baithe hai jalne ke liye diwane
samjhaye koi kya inko dil inka hai aawara
jabab nahi tumhara aur class nahi hamara

ulfat ne jo li angdaai aawaj tumhari aai
tadpati thi tanhai tum aaye najar sharmai
ulfat ne jo li angdaai aawaj tumhari aai
tadpati thi tanhai tum aaye najar sharmai
tum koun ho kaise punchhe hamko to haya ne mara
jabab nahi tumhara aur class nahi hamara

sine mein shola fadke dil jor jor se dhadke
ye pyar hai aisa jadu bole jo sar par chathke
sine mein shola fadke dil jor jor se dhadke
ye pyar hai aisa jadu bole jo sar par chathke
rukati hi nahi roke se ye pyaar ki bahati dhara
jabab nahi tumhara aur class nahi hamara
jab shamma jali mahfil mein parvano ne pukara
jabab nahi tumhara aur class nahi hamara

When the candle bloomed in the gathering, the moths did call,
"Your reply is naught, our class stands tall."
When the candle bloomed in the gathering, the moths did call,
"Your reply is naught, our class stands tall."

I am the lone candle, a million moths surround,
Ready and waiting, on hallowed ground.
I am the lone candle, a million moths surround,
Ready and waiting, where love is unbound.
Who can reason with hearts, wildly astray?
"Your reply is naught, our class holds sway."

When love stirred in slumber, your voice did impart,
Longing's embrace, you came and stole my heart.
When love stirred in slumber, your voice did impart,
Loneliness wept, you came and stole my heart.
Who are you, how to ask, shyness did impart?
"Your reply is naught, our class sets apart."

A flame in the chest, the heart beats its drum,
Such is love's sorcery, it conquers and comes.
A flame in the chest, the heart beats its drum,
Such is love's sorcery, it conquers and comes.
This river of love, no barrier can stem,
"Your reply is naught, our class we condemn."
When the candle bloomed in the gathering, the moths did call,
"Your reply is naught, our class stands tall."