mere dil me jo hota hai, tere dil me kya hota hai
hota hai to, ye pyar hai, ikarar hai
han thoda kuchh hota to hai
jane kya isaka nam, main hu mushqil me
mere dil me jo hota hai, tere dil me kya hota hai
hota hai to, ye pyar hai, ikarar hai
han thoda kuchh hota to hai
jane kya isaka nam, main hu mushqil me

apani mushqil ko aasan kar lo, aankhon me jhanko pahachan kar lo
is dosti ko kuchh nam de do, aagaz de do anjaam de do
tum jo chaho isako samajho, jo samajho woh mujhako kah do
mujhako kahan inkar hai, ikarar hai

kuchh to bata do apani zubani, ham jod lenge aage kahani
bechain si hai kya zindagani, bas pyar ki hai ye hi nishani
aisa hai to rahane bhi do jane bhi do
kuchh aur to kahana abhi dushwar hai

kar do nazar se koyi ishara, kya faisala hai bolo tumhara
apane dilon ko aise na todo, qismat ki batein qismat pe chhod o
mausam bhi furasat bhi hai, aawoh mil ke jhume-gayein
ham phir kabhi sochenge kya pyar hai
mere dil me jo hota hai, tere dil me kya hota hai
hota hai to, ye pyar hai, ikarar hai
han thoda kuchh hota to hai
jane kya isaka nam, main hu mushqil me

What blooms in my heart, does it bloom in yours too?
If it does, then it's love, a confession true.
Yes, something stirs, a delicate hue.
I know not its name, lost within view.
What blooms in my heart, does it bloom in yours too?
If it does, then it's love, a confession true.
Yes, something stirs, a delicate hue.
I know not its name, lost within view.

Make your burdens light, within eyes take flight,
Give this friendship a name, embrace the light,
A beginning, an end, hold it tight.
Understand it as you wish, speak to me tonight.
Where is denial? Only confession's might.

Tell me, with your own tongue, the story we'll weave,
Is life restless for you? This love we believe,
Is this the only sign, my soul to conceive?
If so, then let it be, let it leave.
More words, for now, are hard to retrieve.

A glance, a sign, a moment to seize,
What is your decision, whisper with ease?
Don't break our hearts, let them appease,
Leave fate's whisper to the wind's soft breeze.
The season is ripe, time to appease,
Let us dance and sing, if you please.
We'll think of love later, if it is to be.
What blooms in my heart, does it bloom in yours too?
If it does, then it's love, a confession true.
Yes, something stirs, a delicate hue.
I know not its name, lost within view.