Ghalib ka hai andaaz-e-bayaan aur (7)

So getting back to the last of the posts on Ghalib ghazals on this blog, here I am confused which one to write about. There are so many of the master pieces but today it will be one which helps us know Ghalib as much as possible in one post. To begin with about the other ones which I could write here, at least some of their couplets: First, Ghalib on human beings,

‘Bas ki dushwar hai har kaam ka aasaan honaa,
Aadmi ko bhi mayassar nahin insaan honaa’.
“It is complicated even for the simplest things to simplify,
It is not in the fate of the mankind to become human being”

And his belief / attempt in goodness and being good,
‘Na suno, gar bura kahe koi,
Na kaho, gar bura kare koi.
Rok lo, gar galat chale koi,
Baksh do, gar khata kare koi’
Didn't Gandhi said the same so many years later?

Ghalib doesn’t try to hide the pains in his life; it is another thing that his search for the healer seems to eternal, like an unquenched thirst.
‘Ibn-e-mariam hua kare koi,
Mere dukh ki dawaa kare koi’
‘Let today there be the Son of Mariam (Christ)
One who would heal my sorrows (as Christ healed people by his touch)

His quest for God is as eternal as is his search for a soul mate. While I’m not sure if he got one, his poetry- though- gets its soul in the form of his words. Be it

‘Aah ko chahiye ek umr asar hone tak’, or
‘Dil-e-Nadan tujhe hua kya hai’, or
‘Dil hi to hai naa sang-o-khisht’, or
‘Dard minnat kash-e-davaa naa hua’ or
‘Ye na thi hamari kismet ki visaal-e-yaar hota’,
Ghalib’s longing for beloved, who is as beautiful as is faithless and elusive, continues.

But the separation is equally painful for both the persons. That is what is reflected in the words,
‘Wo firaaq aur wo visaal kahaan?
Wo shab-o-roz-o-maah-o-saal kahaan?
Thi wo ek shakhs ke tasawur se,
Ab wo ranai-e-khayaal kahaan?’
‘ (Now) where is that separation and where’s that union?
Where are those nights, days, months and years?
She had been in love and devotion of someone,
Where could be that excitement in (her) thoughts now?’

It is wonderful to see how Ghalib tries to communicate to his beloved through his poetry and tries to tell of the fleeting nature of beauty in contrast of an everlasting love.

‘Sab kahaan, kuchh lala-o-gul mein numayaan ho gayin,
Khaak mein kya sooratein hogi, ki pinhaa ho gayin’

'Only a few beautiful faces have been embodied in the form of the colourful flowers. Many more beautiful faces mush have disappeared/ laid hidden in the dust (from where the flowers have emerged and where every beautiful thing will end up being)'

Ghalib’s poetry moves around the narrow lanes of love, betrayal and dejection to the lofty mountains of highest order philosophy. A great and representative couplet is:

‘Na tha kuchh, to Khuda tha; kuchh na hota, to Khuda hota;
Duboya mujhko hone ne, na hota main to kya hota?

(When there was nothing, God was there; when there would be nothing, God would be there; I have been ruined by my existence, had I not existed- what would have happened)

Obviously nothing, but being nothing would mean that Ghalib would have been one with God.

In simple words, being Ghalib has ruined him; otherwise, people wouldn’t have been so critical, would have been more accepting and may be he would have been more approachable.

And the genius called Ghalib can be met in the following ghazal, one I would discuss here.

Hai bas ki, har yak unke ishare mein nishaan aur,
Karte hain muhabbat, to gujarta hai gumaan aur.

Yaa rab, na wo samjhe hain naa samjenge meri baat,
De aur dil unko, jo na de mujhko jubaan aur.

Tum shahar mein ho, to humen kya gam, jab uthenge
Le aayenge bazaar se, jaa kar, dilo-jaan aur.

Marta hoon is awaaz pe, harchand sar ud jaaye,
Jallad ko, lekin, wo kahe jaayen ki- haan, aur.

Logon ko hai khursheede-jahan-taab ka dhoka,
Har roz dikhata hoon mein yak daage- nihaan aur.

Paate nahin jab raah, to chadh jaate hain naale,
Rukti hai meri tabh, to hoti hai ravaan aur.

Hain aur bhi duniya mein sukhanwar bahut achche,
Kehte hain, ki ghalib ka hai andaaze- bayaan aur.

(The beloved communicates confusing messages through every action,
Even if the beloved loves me, the impression I get is otherwise
(When I look into your eyes, I see you staring in the sky as if I did not exist there,
When I turn my back, I hear your voice drawing my attention- What do I understand?)

Oh God! The beloved has never understood me nor will understand what I say,
To solve the problem, give a bigger heart to the beloved if you don’t give me more words

O my loved one when you belong to a city (are modern/ faithless??), why should I worry,
I will also go to the market there and purchase some heart and love from your place
(The sarcasm is subtle and poetically beautiful. The poet says, O my beloved if in your city- heart and souls are sold (and hence you neglect my golden heart)- I am so lucky to have you as my friend, I will also go to your town and buy some heart (however faithless) for myself)

I long to listen those words, even if it costs my head to be removed from my shoulders,
But the beloved should continue applauding my assassin, so I could hear those words atleast

Through my ghazals the gathering is beguiled to see the brightness of the sun,
While actually I show the burning wounds of my heart, my ghazals, glowing bright.

When my emotions don’t get soothing air, the pitch of my songs become higher,
When my feelings are low/ I'm dejected, my creativity is even more passionate

Though there are many great poets in this world,
It is said, Ghalib has no parallel when it comes to reciting/ presenting them.

Nothing more true than this, the rhythm and the rhyme which can be captured in Ghalib’s words can not be put to words in any other language- by anyone.