GENESIS OF THE BLOG

Ghalib (December 27, 1797AD – February 15, 1869AD) attracts highly diverse people – not only pauper and affluent, beggar and alms-giver, literary and scientific, uneducated and erudite, layperson and polymath, lover and beloved, men and women, young and old, but even the oppressor, those sunk into past, and reactionary, along with the oppressed, forward looking, and progressive . The apparently plausible reason(s) appear to be one or more of the following: that his poetry offers something or the other to every one; his play on words is enjoyed by one and all; some of his verses are best exponents of particular situations or emotions. To quote him:

See the beauty of speech that what s/he said.
I felt as if this too, in my heart is.
Dekhnaa taqreer kee lazzat keh jo us ney kahaa
Main ney yeh jaanaa keh goyaa yeh bhee merey dil men hai

I have not been a student of literature (except studying it at the school level, where I pursued science stream) nor I have any particular inclination towards poetry; but, to me, and a few of my friends, some of Ghalib’s thoughts have been the star attraction. However, there is no denying that we also enjoy his play on words and playful verses. One of these friends wished to read Ghalib in English, as he could not read Urdu, his mother tongue. The following verse, which later turned out to be the hallmark of Ghalib’s poetry, was our starting point:

When nothing was, then God was; had nothing been, then God would have been.
Undoing, my being has been; had I not been, then what would have been?
Nah thaa kuchh to khudaaa thaa, kuchh nah hotaa to khudaa hotaa
Duboyaa mujh ko honey ney, nah hotaa main to kyaa hotaa?

We scanned the available books on Ghalib, and felt the need to study the way his poetry evolves. We were surprised that, notwithstanding vast literature on Ghalib’s poetry, no attempt had been made to trace its evolution. To us, a chronological study appeared essential – especially to appreciate contradictory verses, such as the following, representing extreme dejection to brimming with satisfaction:

Migrate, now, to such a place, where no one is.
No fellow poet, none with the same language.
Rahiyey ab aisee jagah chal kar jahaan koei nah ho
Ham sukhan koei nah ho aur ham zabaan koei nah ho

No yearning for praise, no concern for reward.
If my verses are devoid of meaning, be so.
Nah sataaish kee tamanna nah siley kee parwah
Gar naheen hain merey asha’ar men ma’nee nah sahee

These issues of mysticism, this explanation of yours, Ghalib.
To you, we would have taken for a saint, if were not given to wine.
Yah masaail-e tasawwuf, yeh teraa bayaan Ghalib
Tujhey ham walee samajhtey, jo nah baadah-khwaar hotaa

There are also other very good poets in the world.
It is said that Ghalib’s style of narration is different.
Hain aur bhee dunyaa men sukhanwar bohat achchhey
Kahtey hain keh ghaalib kaa hai andaaz-e bayaan aur

Next, for several reasons, to study selected verses is considered prudent. After all, Ghalib’s one verse is:

Cannot see Tigris in the drop, and whole in the part,
Adolescents’ play that would be, not an insight.
Qatrey men dajlaa dikhaei nah dey, aur juzw men kul
Khel ladkon kaa huaa, deedah-e beenaa nah huaa

I agree with the above; however, I feel that the verse would hold equally well upon reversing the first line:

Cannot see the drop in Tigris, and the part in whole,
Adolescents’ play that would be, not an insight.

I have attempted at stealing an insight, and to quote:

With a special style, Ghalib has sung subtle points.
A call is, to the people with discerning eye.
Adaa-ey khaas sey ghaalib huaa hai naghmah saraa
Salaa-ey a’am hai yaaraan-e nuktah daan key liyey

I think that if my slaughter of Ghalib's chronologically arranged select Urdu poetry, at the altar of translation, has any redeeming feature, it is that the evolution of his thoughts gets dramatically revealed. He raises questions, and is soon able to answer – for himself, and for us!

The translation, no doubt, has huge scope for making it "poetic"; but I doubt if Ghalib’s thoughtful journey can have a substantially different presentation. And, that is the justification – if one were needed – for adding one more blog (that would hopefully lead to a book) to the vast array of works on Ghalib. However, it is the labour of love; and, to quote Ghalib:

In love, there is no force; it is that fire, Ghalib
With efforts, that cannot be ignited nor extinguished.
I’shq par zor naheen, hai yeh who aatish ghaalib
Keh lagaaey nah lagey, aur bujhaaey nah baney