My book 'Ghalib, Gandhi & the Gita' came out some a dozen years ago. Nobody read it. Had Meher Afshan Farooqi done so she wouldn't write nonsense like the following-
Naqsh faryaadi hai kis ki shokhi-i-tehreer ka
Kaaghazi hai pairahan har paikar-i-tasveer ka
[Of whose mischievous writing does the picture complain?
Every figure in the picture wears a paper robe]
This verse had perplexed and ruffled many during Ghalib’s lifetime itself.
Poet and scholar Nazm Tabatabai
he translated Gray's country church yard elegy. Sadly, Urdu can't have a 'village Hampden' or a 'city Hampden'. It can only have greedy sycophants or Gandhian nutters who protest, not 'ship money'- which might make the monarch independent of parliament, and thus a tyrant- but the 'salt tax' without which the poorest would lose all protection of law.
— who wrote the first complete commentary on Ghalib’s Urdu Divan — was learned in Arabic and Persian, had read a smattering of Western theoretical works, and was inclined to be more critical than laudatory.
In Sharh-i-Divan-i-Urdu-i-Ghalib, he was quick to denounce verses that didn’t measure up to his exacting viewpoints.
He was a pedagogue- i.e. his profession made him stupider than necessary.
Tabatabai put question marks on what he considered to be flaws in this verse. According to him, kaaghazi pairahan is a known istilah [expression, idiom] in Persian and Urdu, but the tradition of plaintiffs wearing paper robes is not substantiated.
How the fuck can you translate Grey's Elegy if you haven't even read the Bible? But, if you do so, how can you fail to be aware of the Shikva-e-Ayyub?
More importantly, he writes that the Sufi devotional practice of fana fi Allah, or the high point of complete immersion in love for the Creator so much so that separation becomes pain and grief, is not obvious in the verse.
But those experiencing 'pain and grief' in love, like complaining. Hubby constantly complains wifey is neglectioning him. So does Baby. Being loved is a terrible burden on the woman of the house. Still, at least the lady isn't obliged to write ghazals- or comment on them. Small mercies too are from God.
Thus, in Tabatabai’s opinion, the verse is too ambivalent to be assigned any meaning.
Shamsur Rahman Faruqi’s pioneering Tafheem-i-Ghalib offers a point for point, brilliant interpretation of this verse. According to Faruqi, the Iranian custom that Tabatabai questions is not unsubstantiated, but has precedence. He quotes a verse by Kamal Ismail:
Kaaghazin jamah beg posheed-o-ba dargah aamad
Zaadeh-i-khaatir-i-man ta beh dehi daad-i-maraa
[It wore the paper robe and arrived at the royal court
So that my poem would get better justice]
According to Faruqi, Tabatabai’s objection that there’s no word in the verse that attests the plaintiff’s despair at existence being a cause of separation from God,
The first line’s “whose” is more interrogatory than astonished. It is possible that, if the question “Of whose mischievousness of writing?” can receive a true answer,
it can't if God is involved because only imperative (insha) not alethic (khabar) information is available.
then the “figure in the picture” can seek justice.
Anything can be said to seek anything. But this is just a manner of speaking. We are talking about poetry not Quantum Physics.
The “image” is, in truth, man, who is speechless like a picture,
would this were true! Sadly, it isn't.
and who, in a language of speechlessness,
sign-language?
is making the complaint “Who ensnared us in suffering?”
That isn't a complaint. It is a question. Who snaked my boo thus causing me to have to cook my own breakfast? Oh. It was the milkman. Fuck you, milkman! Fuck you very much!
It is also a cause for reflection that the image is speechless, and its very speechlessness is the proof of its being a plaintiff.
Very true. Judge Sahib says 'who is the plaintiff in this case?' I say 'it's me. Milkman fuckin' snaked my boo! He should pay me damages.' Judge Sahib says 'The plaintiff can't be you because you are speaking. It must be the portrait of Mahatma Gandhi hanging over my head because the fact that it can't speak proves that it is the plaintiff'.
It occurs to me that Sir Syed Ahmed once demanded that non-STEM subjects only be taught in English because Urdu rots the brain.
Ghalib was very fond of this kind of paradoxical utterance.
Very true. That's why he wrote 'out of the eggs of the buffalo is extracted the buffalo of the egg'. The odd thing is, people thought it was his brother- who couldn't speak- who was mad!
Faiz Ahmed Faiz has an interesting, plausible explanation of this verse. By shokhi-i-tehreer is implied “intense writing” — the intensity of thought of the poet himself.
But plenty of people who love writing want to create something light and entertaining. True, Urdu writers had to pretend to be as love-crazed as Majnoon when they weren't pretending to be more Marxist than Mao. But, speaking generally, what they were really passionate about was Scotch Whiskey and Galavati kebabs.
Faiz’s explanation is: “There is so much intensity/passion in my thoughts that when I put them on paper, the pen and paper protest in pain.”
Also, if I try to read them aloud, my wife runs away screaming. Even the cat comes and scratches me.
He quotes a Persian verse of Ghalib to strengthen his point:
Ghalib na bud shevah-i-man qaafiyah bandi
Zulmist keh bar kilk-o-qalam mi kunam im shab
[Ghalib, I am not a poet who only matches rhyming words
It is pain that I am inscribing with the pen tonight]
Sabak-e-hindi poetry was, it is true, a pain in the arse. Most poetry at most times is. Still, if the poet is genuinely crazy or was molested as a kid or has just had his entire family killed by a drone strike, maybe we should give the fellow some money so he can buy a decent single malt rather than settle for desi daru.
Sabak-e-hindi poetry was, it is true, a pain in the arse. Most poetry at most times is. Still, if the poet is genuinely crazy or was molested as a kid or has just had his entire family killed by a drone strike, maybe we should give the fellow some money so he can buy a decent single malt rather than settle for desi daru.
Sabak-e-hindi poetry was, it is true, a pain in the arse. Most poetry at most times is. Still, if the poet is genuinely crazy or was molested as a kid or has just had his entire family killed by a drone strike, maybe we should give the fellow some money so he can buy a decent single malt rather than settle for desi daru.
There are two reference here. One is to Nimrod and Abraham and the other is ' is to Ahmed Ghazali’s ‘Savanih’ which, some 8 centuries previously, fixed the convention that the curl of the beloved’s tresses is the chain upon the madman who is also a moth to her flame.' convention that the curl of the beloved’s tresses is the chain upon the madman who is also a moth to her flame.Moving on, I found that verse two was modified into the maqta [closing verse]. Below are the original and new versions:
Atashin paa hun gudaaz-i-vahshat-i-zindan na poochh
Mu-i-atash didah hai halqah meri zanjeer ka
[My imprisoned feet are fiery from the heat of restlessness/ Every link in my chain is a fire singed hair]
Bas keh hun Ghalib asiri men bhi atash zeri-i-paa
Mu-i-atash didah hai halqah meri zanjeer ka
[Ghalib, even in bondage I am so aflame with restlessness;
Every link in my chain is like fire-singed hair]
Which suggests the story of the phoenix (Anqa) and Zal. Ghalib compressed a lot of allusions into this poem he wrote as a teenager. I suppose he changed the verse after adopting Ghalib as his takkhalus.
Comparatively, I think the earlier version shows more anguish. The torment or anguish felt by the speaker in the poem is accentuated by vahshat-i-zindan, the desolation of imprisonment, and the personal plea, “na poochh” adds to the appeal.
No. It is lame. A guy held in solitary confinement doesn't have genteel visitors doing 'purshish'- i.e. politely inquiring about the guy's health and that of his Mummy and Daddy and puppy dog.
The amended line in the maqta is more assertive in implying that even imprisonment hasn’t broken the spirit of rebelliousness. We can see that Ghalib has not merely moved a verse from position two to the end of the ghazal, but has changed the mood of the verse as well.
And gotten his own takkhalus in which is cool coz 'Wala ghaliba illa Allah'- there is no victor but God.
In the earlier versions, the closing verse was:
Vahshat-i-khwaab-i-adam shor-i-tamaasha hai Asad
Juz mazah jauhar nahin aainah-i-taabeer ka
[Asad! The disquiet from dreaming of non-being lies in the tumult of watching/ The eye that doesn’t have the essence (jauhar) can only enjoy the show in the mirror of interpretation]
So, Ghalib moved from a hysterical type of speculative metaphysics to humble Faith. Good for him. Meanwhile our pedagogues are moving in the opposite direction. That's bad for us.
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