Ghalib- 2

On a lazy afternoon after the passage of a storm, I am doing what I like the most, listening to Ghalib and trying to explain his philosophy and poetry to non existent / disinterested readers.
While I believe that few of Ghalib’s gazals are completely understood today, I will discuss one whose few couplets are well understood. The couplets here are those which were sung in the serial Mirza Ghalib (and may be available on the You Tube). In my next post I might cover the remaining couplets as well, just to make the gazal complete and the present couplets more meaningful.

Bazeecha -e-atfaal hai duniya mere aage,
Hota hai shab-o-roz tamashaa mere aage.
(Children’s play; Night and Day/ continuously)

Hota hai nihaan gard mein, sehra mere hote,
Ghista hai zamin khaak pe dariya mere aage
(covered with dust, desert, dust, river)

Mat pooch ki kya haal hai, meraa tere peeche,
Tu dekh ki kya rang hai, teraa mere aage

Imaan mujhe roke hai, jo kheenche hai mujhe kufr,
Kaaba mere peeche hai, kalisaa mere aage
(atheism/ irreverence, church)

Go haath ko zumbish nahin, aakhon mein to dum hai,
Rehne do abhi saagar-o-meena mere aage.
(slight movement, the bottle and glass (of liquor))


Couplet 1: For me, this world is a children’s game where new shows take place day and night
Couplet 2: The passions (in my heart) raise storm such that even the desert gets covered with dust and such emotions flow there that even the streams appear dragging.
Couplet 3: (On separation) now when we meet, don’t ask how well I am doing without you; look at the colour of your face as you face me (and turn colourless) (obviously the beloved is trying to hurt Ghalib and take ‘revenge’ but Ghalib, another egoist, reminds that while you know I am not doing well without you, the pain of separation is more visible on your face- So whom are you hurting anyway?)
Couplet 4: The ‘beliefs’ stop me (from doing wrong), when the disbeliefs pull me on the other side. I either reach Kaaba or I reach the church. In a ‘Sufi’ mood Ghalib says that both are equally good, I reach the same God whichever path I tread upon.
Couplet 5: There is no motion in my hands (for they are so weak now), but my eyes still can see; so at least let the flask and the glass of liquor remain in front me (such is my passion).

While the above couplets, all master pieces, here seem to be wandering between philosophy, love, lord, passion and drinks; in the original and complete version the flow is very steady and hopefully I will cover them soon.

ग़ालिब- बाज़ीचा-ऐ-अत्फाल

बाज़ीचा-ऐ-अत्फाल है दुनिया मेरे आगे,
होता है शब-ओ-रोज़ तमाशा मेरे आगे.

होता है निहां गर्द में, सेहरा मेरे होते,
घिसता है ज़मीं ख़ाक पे दरिया मेरे आगे

मत पूछ की क्या हाल है मेरा, तेरे पीछे,
तू देख की क्या रंग है तेरा, मेरे आगे

ईमां मुझे रोके है, जो खींचे है मुझे कुफ्र,
काबा मेरे पीछे है, कलीसा मेरे आगे

गो हाथ को जुम्बिश नहीं, आखों में तो दम है,
रहने दो अभी सागर-ओ-मीना मेरे आगे.

Memoirs of a lost world

The polio campaign had entered its most critical phase. It was facing hostile reaction from a very small segment of anti-campaign leadership, but their command on the masses was much stronger than the official one. The worst part was that the most critical element of official campaign was also the weakest link, and it was affecting the progress badly.

Every weekend when the officials started at 7 am in the morning and returned after the compilation of the figures from the block by late evening, they complained; and the complaints were gradually becoming louder. “Why should the Doctors leave their practice and move from house to house facing humiliation? After all our SDO Sahib will not write their ACR”, senior officials would say.

Shocking incidents took place at times. A lady had been divorced after she had given polio drops to her child. Amit felt like interfering though his officials but that could have caused reaction and he had to remain silent. The number of volunteers who were being beaten was increasing. On one of the occasions Amit was forced to call the police (against the decision to keep the campaign non-coercive) to an institution from where the head was creating disturbance. The old man was asked to give the polio drops by his own hand to his grand children to send the right message in the village.

One of those days when Amit was in a semi urban municipality, there was news that an early born child had died. She had also been given the polio drops that day and now the mob had build up and they had surrounded the volunteer. Luckily the place was barely two kilometers from where Amit was and they had to rush to reach the spot. The volunteer was petrified and was crying inconsolably, begging mercy from the crowd.

When Amit reached there he was received by a large and hostile crowd. The father of the child angrily rushed inside his hut and took out the body of the child, born full 6 weeks ahead of the delivery date. The body was very small, weak and underdeveloped. There was again a furore in the crowd and the lady once again screamed with fear.

The doctor who had accompanied Amit tried to defend the health worker, “This was an early born child, clearly so weak, how could it have survived? Who is blaming the health worker? She did the right thing; this drop should have been given earlier. It could have built some immunity in the body”.

Crowd was perplexed by the logic. Then someone from the neighbourhood said that it was one of the twins born, the first one had died immediately after the birth some 7 days back. Even the father of the child accepted that the other twin had died immediately after the birth. Then the BDO questioned him that when the other child had died without the polio drops then how he was blaming the present incident to the polio drops.

Just to nib the problem in its bud, Amit asked to register a case against the main culprit, a politically motivated person, and the ‘leaders’ in this matter. They were soon totally defensive.

Shortly there was to be held a meeting with a senior minister and doctors in the subdivision. That far barring a few health officials, there had been lukewarm response in general. Should he speak out or not and where was the question before Amit. The officials of health administration were trying to convince him that things had improved drastically and speaking something to the minister could antagonize the health officials

During the public address of the dignitary to the department concerned Amit was to speak first. He began with an apology and went on to explain that how the Junior Engineers and Assistant engineers, head clerks, school teachers and anganwadi workers had all gone out to field with polio vials. But it was his inability to raise the interest of the appropriate stake holders to participate in the programme and if this did not change, momentum may not be maintained longer.

There was press around, there was whole concerned fraternity around and the comments of SDO were brutally blunt. It was obvious one of the parties will have to quit the screen, either him or the non participating officials.

By evening, number of transfer orders had started pouring in. People were to move out of their long established fiefdoms. Amit was to stay and complete the mission. In the days to come, even Doctors faced the public wrath but that helped their resolution to solve the problem once for all. The ‘Convergence Model’, the officially coined term for the campaign, was to be quoted in international seminars and replicated across the state and later in other parts of the country. Thousands of volunteers had worked across departments reaching house after house morning to evening for days, hundreds of meetings and rallies were held over months; but it had meant success.

ग़ालिब- दिल ही तो है

दिल ही तो है न संग-ओ-खिश्त, दर्द से भर ना आए क्यों,

रोयेंगे हम हज़ार बार, कोई हमें सताए क्यों।

दैर नहीं, हरम नहीं, दर नहीं , आस्तां नहीं,
बैठे हैं रह-गुज़र पे हम, गैर हमें उठाये क्यों?

कैद-ऐ-हयात -ओ -बंद-ऐ-गम, अस्ल में दोनों एक हैं,

मौत से पहले आदमी, गम से निजात पाये क्यों?

वाँ वह गरूरे -इज्जो -नाज़, याँ यह हिजाबे- पासे वजा,
राह में हम मिलें कहाँ, बज्म में वह बुलाए क्यों?

हाँ, वह नहीं खुदा परस्त, जाओ वह बेवफा सही,
जिसको हो दीनो-दिल अज़ीज़, उसकी गली में जाए क्यों?

ग़ालिब -ऐ-खस्ता के बगैर कौन से काम बंद हैं?

रोईये जार-जार क्या? कीजिये हाय- हाय क्यों?

Ghalib revisited

Discovered Hindi Fonts on Blogger and tried to type one of my favourites of Ghalib peoms;

Meaning of some words and phrases in bold from the poem above- Bricks and stones; Temple; Life; Grip of sadness; with pride (arrogance mixed) and shy (inhibited); Restrained by decorum; (Mehfil) – the party

In the third couplet, Ghalib compares the ‘prison of life’ with the clutches of pains and concludes that pains can only be overcome with the end of life (libration from the prison).
Amazing rise from story of love to one which is many notches higher ‘philosophy of life’!

Another beautiful transition in fourth couplet, back to the love story. The beloved has the inhibition and pride while Ghalib is restrained by worldly decorum. Obviously they can not meet along the road (possibly the beloved is surrounded by many people as stated clearly in some other Ghalib poems) and beloved does not invite Ghalib in the special gatherings.

Fifth couplet is tricky. Ghalib alleges atheism and being unfaithful; same allegations that were used against him on so many occasions. But then answers himself, people looking for piousness and emotions* should not approach (whom? Ghalib or the beloved)
*(amazing change of track from first couplet where he is crying for a broken heart)

Sixth couplet is one of the most famous of the Ghalib. Feel why? Continue from the fifth couplet; here he says that nothing actually is lost without Ghalib. Then why should one cry and scream?

Implicit is ‘despite his atheism and faithlessness, he is without parallel so there would be every reason to wail and scream ‘without’ Ghalib'

Read the whole poem again in the light of the last couplet and many meanings change and one can see the literary genius of the royal poet, who knew he had no competition in any field.

A break from the silence

We are going through some of the most intense days of our life. The team spirit and selfless commitment for a common cause has been unparallel.
For me, I am happy for the trust some organizations expressed about the difference I could make for their mission. Then, it is mostly about self belief, understanding human relations and knowing what you want to do in your life.
A bit of travelling is expected in near future, possibly around March beginning. I plan to meet some old friends.
Will be back with the memoirs soon; I have so much to do over the next one and a half months in ISB.

Time Flies

It was in 1997, when someone had knocked at my room in Jia Sarai, the abode of IAS aspirants. I knew the person who was standing there; he was the topper of Civil Department of our batch, another aspirant for a berth in IAS. He had told that he was looking for a room in Jia Sarai to start full time preparation for the CIVILs.

Even I had quit the highest paid job of my department to appear for the next prelims. I had preferred Jia Sarai to the hostel room I had been allotted in JNU for MA Geography and the scholarship at another course in Forest Management at Bhopal.

My room happened to be the best situated room in the entire locality. It overlooked the Hockey and Football fields of IIT on the other side of the road. The house belonged to the biggest Xerox shop owner of Jia Sarai who knew me for the volume of work I had done during my B-Tech project at his shop. While I had been searching for an accommodation, he had offered that room to me at a throw away rent in one of the costliest places in New Delhi. The room was extremely spacious, traditionally shared by two to three IAS aspirants in the past.

As a recent pass out from an engineering college with hardly any saving, even that rent was a huge burden for me. I had told my batch mate that he could come and stay in that room on sharing of rental. After a long thought he had responded, “Nahi yaar, mere ko serious types ki taiyaari karni hai”. However, he had informed another person, our four year senior, about the part vacancy in that room.

When the result had come all the three of us had qualified.

We still laugh, that after all his ‘serious preparations’ my friend was ranked 17th, I was ranked 15th and our senior, my room mate at Jia Sarai, was ranked 14th, amongst almost 250,000 applicants. We had undergone training at LBSNAA in same batch, we were in the same Bharat Darshan Group and even now we often plan to attend the trainings organized by DOPT together. Last one was at IIM Bangalore, when we had decided that it was time to have a degree in Business Administration.

Today my friend, Collector Sahib for over three years now, had visited ISB with his wife. So it was refreshing of memories of over 14 years, 4 years in IIT and those after that.

Time flies by! What else to say.