nuktaachi hai, gam-e-dil usako sunaaye na bane
usako sunaaye na bane
kyaa bane baat jahaan baat banaaye na bane
nuktaachi hai, gam-e-dil

gair phirataa hai liye yun tere khat ko ke agar
ko_i puchhe ke ye kyaa hai to chhupaaye na bane
nuktaachi hai, gam-e-dil

mai bulaataa to hun usako magar ai jazbaa-e-dil
us pe ban jaaye kuchh aisi ki bin aaye na bane
us pe ban jaaye kuchh aisi ki bin aaye na bane
nuktaachi hai, gam-e-dil

ishq par zor nahi hai ye vo aatish gaalib
ishq par zor nahi hai ye vo aatish gaalib
ki lagaaye na lage aur bujhaaye na bane
nuktaachi hai, gam-e-dil usako sunaaye na bane

A critic's the world, my heart's grief, I cannot confide,
cannot confide.
What unfolds when the words, no solace, provide?
A critic's the world, my heart's grief.

A stranger flaunts your letter, held so near,
Should one inquire, they'd hide it, fueled by fear.
A critic's the world, my heart's grief.

I call to her, yet oh, my soul's deep art,
A spell descends, she comes not, tears me apart.
A critic's the world, my heart's grief.

Love's not a choice, a fire, Ghalib, knows no reign,
Love's not a choice, a fire, Ghalib, knows no pain,
You can't ignite at will, nor quench the flame.
A critic's the world, my heart's grief, I cannot confide.