Birha, the song, talks about the working class heroes. Kalpana Patowary sings this ancient song of the farmers, in a way that commemorates their hard work. The song has playful anecdotes narrated in Bhojpuri, aptly complemented by the soulful vocals of Sonia Saigal, bringing in a blues influence to the track. Producer Dhruv Ghanekar beautifully blends all these elements on this amazing composition on Coke Studio@MTV Season 4!

Credits:
Music composed & Produced Dhruv Ghanekar
Lyrics [Bhojpuri] By Kalpana Patowary
Lyrics [English] By Dhruv Ghanekar & Sonia Saigal
Vocals - Kalpana Patowary, Sonia Saigal
Backing vocals - Keshia Braganza, Gwen Dias
Guitars - Dhruv Ghanekar, Vinay Lobo
Drums - Gino Banks
Bass - Sheldon D’Silva
Keys & Piano - Harmeet Manseta, Rinku Rajput
Horn Section:
Trumpet - Kishore Soda
Trombone - Ramon Ibrahim
Saxophone - Artur Grigoryan
Percussions - Viveick Rajagopalan, Varun Venkit, Agneya Chikte
Ramon Ibrahim
Violin - Finix Ramdas
Mix Engineer - Ishan Naik, Wah Wah Music, Mumbai
Mastering Engineer - Ishan Naik, Wah Wah Music, Mumbai

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Lyrics:
Ram bhaile jogiya Lakhan bairagiya ki duno bhaiya ho gaile fakir
Garwa me daar lihale tulsi ji ke malwa he
Are duno bhaiya mangale ajodhiya me bheekh

Sarson ke maar delas lahi e bhai ki bathua bigadle ba khet

Ohi Brindavanawa me pakali bairiya ki Radha tode dariya jhukaay
Aa ekohu bairiya Radha todohu na pawali ki he
Are Kaanha dihale basiyan nu re bajay

Sarson ke maar delas lahi e bhai ki bathua bigadle ba
Are Beta ke patahu bigaadle ba ki he
Are koliya me kholole bate ho duar

Demons in my dreams at Night
Working my mind like a scythe
Filling up my thoughts with dread
Working this land until I’m dead

I got a devil in me feelin
Sending shivers down my spine
Shaking my soul to a grind
Making me run, I’m outta time

I been running like there’s coming a war
Sliding down with my cheap guitar
From Bombay to Zanzibar
Don’t think I’m getting very far

Hurawa baran tor jurwa patarki ki munari baran karhiaay
Are akhiya me dele ba julmi kajarwa ki he
Are maare chhaiyalawan ke jaike jaan

Sarson ke maar delas lahi e bhai ki bathua bigadle ba khet
Beta ke patahu bigaadle ba ki he
Are koliya me kholole bate ho duar

I lift my hands to bring to life
This land of mine in time of strife work to make two end meet
And feel the soil beneath my feet

I’m working my fingers to the bone
This land is hard as dry as stone
But I’ll be slaving till I’m done
Oh lord please don’t leave me alone

Translation:
Ram and Lakshman, both shed off their princely gourmet and become sadhu-fakir.
They drop the gold diamond jewellery and instead wear some necklace made up of basil leaves.
They get ready for banvaas and are seen begging in the streets of Ayodhya.

Just as some unwanted plants always disturb the growth of my musturd cultivation

The berries are ripening to red in Brindavan and the eternal beauty Radha is trying to pluck some jumping but in vain.
She could not pluck even one. Just then Kanha enters playing his eternal musical flute.

Just as some unwanted plants always disturb the growth of my musturd cutivation,
so is my newlywed son is getting corrupt by his bride that is my daughter in law.

Hey beautiful lady, your hair bun is as sleek and slim as you are.
Your finger ring will slip of your hand someday as your fingers are too thin to hold it.
The dark kohl in your eyes is deadly and killer as all the male element is dying for you.

Just as some unwanted plants always disturb the growth of my musturd cutivation,
so is my newlywed son is getting corrupt by his bride that is my daughter in law.

The sweet cream is gulped by the rabbit and alas!
The male calf everybody doubted.
So as your beloved childhood boyfriend enjoyed you long before and everybody thinking it’s your poor husband is the one.

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