Ek bachpan kA zamAna thA, jismE khushiyOn kA khazAna thA;

There was a world of childhood, Where there was a treasury of joys;

chAhat chAnd kO pAnE kI thI, par dil titli kA dIwAnA thA.

The ambition was to get the moon, But the heart wanted the butterfly, too.

khabar na thI kuch subah kI, na shAm kA thikAnA thA;

There was no knowledge of mornings No certainty of the evenings;

thak hArke AnA padhAyI sE, par khElnE bhI jAnA thA.

We’d come tired from school But we could go and play.

mA kI kahAnI thI, pariyOn kA fasAnA thA; bArish mEn kAgaz kI nAv thI, har mausam suhAnA thA.

There were mother’s stories, Stories about fairies; There were paper boats in the rains; Every season was pleasant.

har khEl mEn sAthI thE, har rishtA nibhAnA thA; gam kI zubAn na hOtI thI, na zakhmOn kA paimAnA thA.

There were friends for every game, Every relationship was important; There was no sorrow, Nor the pain of wounds.

rOnE kI wajah na thI, na hansne kA bahAnA thA; kyOn hO gayE ham itnE badE, isse achhA tO wOh bachpan kA zamAnA thA…

No cause to cry, No pretense in laughter; Why have we grown up… Our world of childhood was better….