Rishte sirf teen hote hai ... ek roti ka bhook se, doosra dosti ka dushmani se aur teesra zindagi ka maut se

There are only three types of relationships ... one of bread with hunger, second of friendship with enmity and third of life with death

Apun ki parchai maut ka pehghaam lati hai ... apun ki awaaz jung ka elaan karti hai ... aur apun ki maujoodgi sare bazar dushman ko nanga karti hai

My shadow brings the message of death ... my voice announces the war ... and my presence makes the enemy naked in the middle of the market

Jaise sher ki aankhon mein dekhkar uska shikaar apni jagah se hil nahi sakta ... waise hi mere dushman meri izaazat ke bagair kahin nahi jaa sakta

Just like a prey can't move from its spot after looking into the tiger's eye ... just like that my enemy can't go anywhere without my permission

Aaisa dimak bankar khaonga ki kab tootta, kab bhikra aur kab tabah hua ... teri parchaiyon ko bhi pata nahi chalega

I'll become such a termite and eat you that when you'll break, when you'll separate and when you'll be destroyed ... even your shadow won't come to know of that

First hand samajh mein aata hai, second hand samajh mein aata hai, third hand tak samajh mein aata hai ... lekin yeh aaisa hand hai jiska saala koi "The End" hi nahi hai

I can understand first hand, I can understand second hand, I can even understand third hand ... but this is such a hand which has no "The End"