But every gesture, every grace, is telling you ‘Like this!’
pursish e tarz e dilbari keejiye kya, ki bin kahe
us ke har ik ishaare se nikle hai ye ada ki yun
At night, and flushed with wine, and in my rival’s company—
God grant that she may come to me, but not, O god, like this.
raat ke vaqt mein piye, saath raqeeb ko liye
aae vo yahaan khuda kare par na kare khuda ki yun
How should I not sit silent facing her in her assembly?
Her silence is itself enough to tell me,‘Sit like this!’
bazm mein us ke ru-ba-ru kyon na khamosh baithiye?
us ki to khaamoshi mein bhi hai yehi mudda’a ki yun
I said,‘From love’s assembly every rival should be banished.’
What irony! She heard me, sent me out, and said,‘Like this!’
main ne kaha ki ‘bazm e naaz chaahiye ghair se tihi’
sunke sitam zareef ne mujh ko utha diya ki ‘yun!’
If people say,‘Can Urdu, then, put Persian verse to shame?’
Recite a line of Ghalib’s verse and tell them,‘Yes! Like this!’
jo ye kahe ki ‘rekhta kyonke ho rashk e faarsi?’
gufta e Ghalib ek baar padhke use suna ki yun
III
The world is but a game that children play before my eyes,
A spectacle that passes night and day before my eyes.
baazeecha e atfaal hai duniya mere aage
hota hai shab o roz tamaasha mere aage
The throne of Sulaiman is but a toy in my esteem,
The miracles that Isa worked, a trifle in my eyes.*
ik khel hai aurang e Sulaimaan mere nazdeek
ik baat hai ejaaz e maseeha mere aage
You need not ask how I feel when I am away from you;
See for yourself how you feel when you are before my eyes.â€
mat poochh ki kya haal hai mera tere peechhe
tu dekh ki kya rang hai tera mere aage
My faith restrains me while the lure of unbelief attracts me
That way, the Kaba: and this way, the Church before my eyes.
imaan mujhe roke hai jo khainche hai mujhe kufr
kaaba mere peechhe hai, kaleesa mere aage
A raging sea of blood lies in my path. Would that were all!
For perils more than these may yet arise before my eyes.
hai maujzan ik qulzum e khoon kaash yehi ho
aata hai abhi dekhiye kya kya mere aage
What if I cannot move my hands? My eyesight is still sound
So let the goblet and the flask stand there before my eyes.
go haath ko junbish nahin aankhon mein to dam hai
rehne do abhi saaghar o meena mere aage
He shares my calling, shares my ways, he shares my inmost thoughts;
Do not speak ill of Ghalib; he finds favour in my eyes.
hum-pesha o hum-mashrab o hum-raaz hai mera
Ghalib ko bura kyon kaho, achcha mere aage
IV
This was not to be my fate that all should end in lovers meeting;
Even had I gone on living, I should still be waiting, waiting.
ye na thhi hamaari qismat ki visaal e yaar hota
agar aur jeete rehte yehi intizaar hota
Did your promise save my life? Yes!—for I knew you would not keep it.
Would I not have died of joy if I had thought you would fulfill it?
tere vaade par jiye hum to ye jaan jhoot jaana
ki khushi se marna jaate agar aitibaar hota
Am I still to call it friendship when my friends start preaching at me?
Someone should have brought me comfort, someone should have shared my sorrows.
ye kahaan ki dosti hai ki bane hai dost naasih
koi chaara-saaz hota, koi gham-gusaar hota
Grief wastes our life away—and yet how shall we flee the heart within us?
Had we not known the grief of love, we would have known the grief of living.
gham agarchi jaan-gusil hai, pe kahaan bachein? ki dil hai
gham e ishq gar na hota gham e rozgaar hota
With what style you handle, Ghalib, all these themes of mystic teaching!
What a saint we would have thought you if you had not been a drinker!
ye misaa’il e tasavvuf, ye tera bayaan Ghalib
tujhe hum vali samajhte jo na baada-khvaar hota!
V
Since I have made my home, without your leave, right by your door,
Do you think, even now, you’ll need directing to my house?*
gar jab bana liya tere dar par kahe baghair
jaanega ab bhi tu na mera ghar kahe baghair?
She says, when I no longer even have the power of speech,
‘How should I know a man’s heart if he does not speak to me?’
kehte hain jab rahi na mujhe taaqat e sukhan
jaanun kisi ke dil ki main kyonkar kahe baghair?
I have to do with her of whom no man in all the world
Has ever spoken yet without calling her ‘cruel one’.
kaam usse aa pada hai ki jis ka jahaan mein
leve na koi naam sitamgar kahe baghair
I have nothing to say to you; else I am not the man
To hold my tongue; I would speak out though it cost me my head.
ji mein hi kuchh nahin hai humaare vagarna hum
sar jaaye ya rahe na rahen par kahe baghair
I will not cease to worship her, that infidel, my idol
Though all creation never cease to call me infidel.
chhodunga main na us but e kaafir ka poojna
chhode na khalq go mujhe kaafir kahe baghair
I mean her airs and graces, but I cannot talk of them
Unless I speak in terms of knives and daggers that she wields.
maqsad hai naaz o ghamza vale guftagu mein kaam
chalta nahin hai dashna o khanjar kahe baghair
I talk of contemplating God, but cannot make my point
Unless I speak of wine-cup and intoxicating wine.*
har chand ho mushaahida e haq ki guftagu
banti nahin hai baada o saaghar kahe baghair
Since I am deaf I make a claim to double kindness from you;
I cannot hear what you have said unless you say it twice.â€
behra hoon main toh chaahiye doona ho iltifaat
sunta nahin hoon baat mukarrar kahe baghair
Ghalib, you must not lay your plea repeatedly before her;
All that you feel, she knows; you need not speak a single word.
Ghalib na kar huzoor mein tu baar baar arz
zaahir hai tera haal sab un par kahe baghair
VI
She has foresworn her cruelty—but can she?
She says,‘How can I show my face to you?’*
jaur se baaz aaye par baaz aaen kya,
kehte hain hum tujh ko munh dikhlaayein kya?
All night, all day, the seven heavens are turning—
Something will happen; set your mind at ease.
raat din gardish mein hain saat aasmaan
ho rahega kuchh na kuchh ghabraayein kya?
She fights me, and I tell myself she loves me:
When she feels nothing, what can I dream then?
laag ho toh usko hum samjhen lagaao
jab na ho kuchh bhi to dhoka khaayein kya?
See, I keep pace with him who bears my letter.
Am I then to deliver it myself?â€
ho liye kyon naama-bar ke saath-saath,
Ya rab apne khat ko hum pahunchaaen kya?
What though a wave of blood should overwhelm me?‡
How can I leave the threshold of my love?
mauj e khoon sar se guzar hi kyon na jaaye
aastaan e yaar se uth jaayein kya?
I passed my life waiting for death to take me,
And dead, I still must see what I must see.§
umar bhar dekha k
iya marne ki raah
mar gaye par dekhiye dikhlaayen kya?
She is perplexed. She asks me,‘Who is Ghalib?’
Tell me, someone, what answer can I give?
poochhte hain vo ki ‘Ghalib kaun hai?’
koi batlaao ki hum batlaayein kya?
VII
I am no melody, I am no lute—
I am the sound that my own breaking makes.
na gul e naghma hoon na parda e saaz
main hoon apni shikast ki aavaaz
You, and the coiling tresses of your hair—
I, and my endless, dark imaginings.*
tu aur aaraa’ish e kham e kaakul
main aur andeshaha e door o daraaz
Love of my captor holds me in her snare;
It is not that I lack the power of flight.
hoon giriftaar e ulfat e sayyaad
varna baaqi hai taaqat e parvaaz
VIII
None of my hopes can ever be fulfilled;
Seek as I may, I see no way ahead.
koi ummeed bar nahin aati
koi soorat nazar nahin aati
Death surely comes on its appointed day;
Why then does sleep not come the whole night through?
maut ka ek din muayyan hai
neend kyon raat bhar nahin aati?
Once I would contemplate my wounded heart
And laugh. Now laughter never comes to me.
aage aati thi haal e dil pe hansi
ab kisi baat par nahin aati
The meek ascetic wins reward in heaven.
I know; but I cannot incline that way.
janta hoon savaab e taa’at o zuhd
par tabiyat idhar nahin aati
If I keep silent, it is for a reason.
You surely know I have the power to speak?
hai kuchh aisi hi baat jo chup hoon
varna kya baat kar nahin aati?
I am so far away that even I
Have not the least awareness where I am.
hum vahaan hain jahaan se hum ko bhi
kuchh humaari khabar nahin aati
Ghalib, you have the face to go to Mecca?
But then you never feel a sense of shame.
kaabe kis munh se jaaoge, Ghalib?
sharm tumko magar nahin aati
IX
Beneath the shade of every mosque should be a tavern—
Just as the eye, your reverence, is near the brow.*
masjid ke zer e saaya kharaabat chaahiye
bhaon paas aankh qibla e haajaat chaahiye
It was for fair-faced women that I learnt to paint;
One needs some pretext, after all, for meeting them.
seekhe hain mah-rukhon ke liye hum musavvari
taqreeb kuchh to bahr e mulaaqaat chaahiye
What idiot takes to wine in hope of finding joy?
Each day, each night, I seek a refuge from myself.
mai se gharaz nashaat hai kis ru-siyaah ko?
ik guna be-khudi mujhe din raat chaahiye
Tulip and rose and eglantine wear different hues;
With every hue let us affirm the joy of spring.
hai rang e laala o gul o nasreen juda juda
har rang mein bahaar ka isbaat chaahiye
X
Life passes by unused, although it be as long as Khizar’s.
He too will ask himself tomorrow,‘What have I achieved?’
be-sarfa hi guzarti hai ho garche umr e Khizar
hazrat bhi kal kahenge ki hum kya kiya kiye?
Had I the power, I would demand an answer from the earth,
‘What have you done, vile miser, with all the rare treasures you hold?’*
maqdoor ho to khaak se poochhun ki ai la’eem
tu ne vo gunjha e giraan maaya kya kiye?
I hope it was not in his company she learnt these ways;
She gives me kisses even when I do not ask for them.
sohbat mein ghair ki na padi ho kahin ye khoo
dene laga hai bosa baghair iltija kiye
When she is obstinate, that’s it! But this at least is good:
When she forgets, she can keep scores of promises she made.
zid ki hai aur baat magar khoo buri nahin
bhoole se usne saikdon vaade vafa kiye
Ghalib, you know yourself what sort of answer you will get;
No matter how you talk, and how she goes on listening.
Ghalib tumhin kaho ki milega javaab kya
maana ki tum kaha kiye aur vo suna kiye
XI
A strong snare lay in wait for me, concealed close to my nest;
I had not even taken wing when it imprisoned me.
pinhan thha daam e sakht qareeb aashiyaan ke
udne na paaye thhe ki giriftaar hum hue
You love me now, but that does not atone, for in this world
Much, besides you, has visited its cruelty on me.
teri vafa se kya ho talaafi ki dahr mein
tere siva bhi hum pe bahut se sitam hue
I filled the blood-stained pages with the story of my love
And went on writing even when they had cut off my hands.*
likhte rahe junoon ki hikaayaat e khoon chakaan
har chand usme haath hamaare qalam hue
Asad, I took to begging, but I kept my sense of humour,
And am the suppliant lover now of the munificent.â€
chhodi asad na hum ne gadaai mein dil lagi
saa’il hue to aashiq e ahl e karam hue
* Sulaiman and Isa are, respectively, the Biblical Solomon and Jesus.
†I feel in your absence all the agitation you feel in my presence.
* I’ve constantly asked you to visit me and your excuse has always been ‘I don’t know the way.’ But now...
* An acceptance of the conventional metaphors of the ghazal.
†Humorous. He wants her to repeat her words of kindness, and makes the excuse that he is deaf. Ghalib did in fact become deaf as he got older!
* Shame at the thought of her past cruelties makes her hide her face—and that is cruel!
†I keep pace—so impatient am I to have her reply.
‡ What though every conceivable misfortune should befall me?
§ What I must see—what God has in store for me.
* See p. 219.
* The mosque, with its arch, is compared to the eyebrow, and the tavern to the eye—and it is obvious which is to be valued more!
* The ‘rare treasures’ mean the great ones who have died and been lost to the world.
* The original has a characteristic, but untranslatable play on words. Hath qalam hue means,‘My hands were cut off’—but the words could also mean, ‘My hands became pens.’
†‘Munificent’ here is used ironically.
A Living Tradition
I have chosen to present the ghazal with examples taken almost entirely from the work of two of its greatest exponents, Mir and Ghalib. But it cannot be stressed too strongly that the ghazal has always been, and still is, the most popular genre of Urdu verse, and Mir and Ghalib were only two, albeit the greatest two, of the great ghazal poets of their day.
The ghazal is a living tradition. The separate couplets, each complete in itself, lend themselves to being easily memorized and are often used as apt quotations to comment on daily situations. Many Urdu speakers know by heart hundreds of ghazal couplets, and have heard many ghazals sung, Ghalib’s being particularly popular.
Some ghazals incorporate already well-known proverbs, like these of Mir, in which the proverb corresponds to the words I have enclosed in quotes:
Already you bewail your blistered feet?
‘It’s a long way to Delhi yet,’ my son.
shikva e aabla abhi se Mir?
hai pyaare hanoz Dilli door
What can I do? My heart is in her power.
‘The earth is hard, the sky is far away.’
kare kya? ki dil bhi to majboor hai
> zameen sakht hai aasmaan door hai
I roam about disgraced, but nothing can be done about it.
What is a man to do, Mir Sahib? ‘Service is servitude.’
laa-elaaji hai jo rehti hai mujhe aavaaragi
keejiye kya Mir sahib? bandagi be-chaaragi
No one goes to his death with open eyes:
‘If you have life, then you have everything.’
Mir amdan bhi koi marta hai?
jaan hai to jahaan hai pyaare
Other verses by Mir have themselves become proverbial, like that which makes the same point as ‘It’s a long way to Delhi’:
Why do you weep? Love’s trials have just begun.
Restrain your tears. See what is yet to come.
ibtida e ishq hai rona hai kya?
aage aage dekhiye hota hai kya
Another is often quoted when you part from friends, especially when you do not know when you will see them again:
Now I must leave the temple of my idols
I’ll come again—if God brings me this way.
ab to jaate hain but-kade se Mir
phir milenge agar khuda laaya
(There is an irony in the couplet; the God who abhors idolatry is hardly likely to help you return to the temple.)
One whose meaning is plain:
Defeat and victory are things that fate alone decides,
But, Mir, this feeble heart of mine has fought with all its strength.
shikast o fatah naseebon se hai, ai Mir
muqaabala toh dil e naatavaan ne khoob kiya
Urdu speakers (including those who have had little or no formal education) will regularly quote couplets in conversation often without knowing or caring whose couplets they are quoting. For instance they will say of anyone (including themselves!) whom they suspect of embroidering the truth:
The stories of my love are true—except that here and there
I add a touch or two in order to adorn the tale.
fasaane yun to muhabbat ke sach hain par kuchh kuchh
badha bhi dete hain hum zeb e daastaan ke liye
Or, urging someone to go boldly for what they want:
Here wine flows freely, but the timid cannot hope to taste it.
Come forward and reach out to take the cup: the wine is yours.
ye bazm e mai hai yan kotaah-dasti mein hai mahroomi
jo badh kar khud utha le haath mein meena usi ka hai
Or of someone whose project fails just when success seems certain:
Just see my luck! The noose I threw has broken
When I had almost reached the parapet.
qismat ki khoobi dekhiye tooti kahaan kamand
do char haath jab ke lab e baam reh gaya
(The image being that of a lover coming secretly to climb up to the flat roof where his beloved awaits him.)
A Thousand Yearnings Page 22
