Na mai sindhee, na mai marathee, na mai hu gujaratee,
Na to hai ek bhaashaa meree, na meree ek jaatee
Gangaa meree maa kaa naam, baap kaa naam himaalaa
Ab tum khud hoo faisla kar lo, Mai kis jube vaalaa
Jis dharatee ka mai beṭaa hoo, us ke mausam chaar
Garmee sardee patjhad aur albelee ritu bahaar
Jahaa saveraa gaataa aaye raat bajhaaye sitaar
Mai woh panchee jis kee, nishdin laakho kos uḍaan
Uttar dakshin purab pakshim gunje meree taan
Ek shaal hai meraa jis kaa naam hai hindustaan
Banglaa praant me ja-u to, mai karoo kaalaa se preet
Jab aau punjaab to, bhangṛe kaa ban ja-u meet
Dakhkhan jaa kar sikhaa maine karnaaṭak sangeet
Mai madrasee mai Gujaratee mai ek Rajasthaanee
Baṛaa puraaṇaa ek maraṭhee, nayaa nayaa hariyaaṇaa
Mai kuchh bhee hoo lekin sab se pehle hindustaanee
I am neither Sindhi, Marathi, or Gujarati. I have neither one language nor a single caste.
Ganga is the name of my Mother, and Himalaya is the name of my Father. So where can I belong?
I am a son of the four seasons that visit this land, Summer, Winter, Autumn, and Spring. In this blessed land, our mornings start with a song, and the sitar’s music beckon the night.
I am like the bird that flies hundreds of miles – north, south, east, and west and all directions resonate with my song. This vast space is mine, it is called Hindustan.
In Bengal I love art, in Punjab, I danced the Bhangra, In the south I learned Carnatic music.
I am Madrasi, I am Gujarati, I am Rajastani. I am the old Maratha and the new Haryani. But whatever I am, I am Hindustani.
Discover more from
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.