On the occasion of Republic day of India, I went on to watch the first day and first show of Agneepath. I was fussing a bit having to get up so early (7 am) in the morning on a holiday; wondering all the while, will the movie be worth it...and man! what a movie.
As far as the cast is concerned, there is just one way to describe it- flawlessly perfect. Hrithik delivers yet again another power packed performance... hard to believe the kaho naa pyaar hai guy has so much to offer, he keeps re-discovering himself with every release and keeps growing. The violence, pain, anguish and anger so superbly revealed in his eyes... vijay has very few dialogs, he speaks less and when he does - he never goes on to be superfluous with his words to convey the myriad of emotions he holds in his heart! Sanjay Dutt has once again claimed his much deserved title of being the "Deadly Dutt". How can the sweet and lovable Munnabhai become a Kancha Cheena- and make you hate him so much that you wish him dead! Well that's the biggest compliment I had to offer for this man! Rishi Kapoor- he is perhaps the master of all..... it was so difficult to imagine the life long romantic hero play the part of Rauf lala - ruthless murderer, a woman trafficker and a down-right criminal... he is simply amazing! Though not a big Priyanka fan...but must say she portrayed the role of Kali with ease and grace. She serves as the only emotional link in Vijay's otherwise revengeful and blood-ridden life. A special mention and kudos to master Vijay- the 12 year old justifies the young kid- who grows into a man overnight due to extenuating circumstances.
Agneepath intrigues you deep, in spite of being a remake.....it stupefies and transcends you and makes you gaze in wonder! Can revenge be so strong an emotion which surpasses all the so called pleasures of life- love, friendship, happiness, freedom, peace, money, power and even family! As far as Vijay Deenanath Chauhan is concerned, the answer is a big YES. That is all he lives for and that is the only thing he will die for- nothing more and nothing less. The intense drama unfolds on screen and keeps you involved throughout... the background score and the flawless incorporation of music into a movie which doesn't provides much scope for it.
To all you Hrithik fans out there- go and grab a ticket....he won't disappoint you. For everyone out there looking for a good weekend, my suggestion is a thumbs up. Sometimes redemption is a part of your life....but sometimes redemption defines your life!
Cheers
Friday, January 27, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
On the new year's eve.......
It was a long night...yea a night of splendor, celebrations, lights, sounds and laughter....nevertheless a long night. I was dancing and chatting and entertaining my guests in all possible ways....trying in every possible way to fight against the darkness and emptiness beating so dangerously close to my heart....darkness which rises with every passing hour and every passing day... a darkness threatening to destroy every single thing I hold close....steal away every single person I can't live without.
The music kept swirling its essence around, and slowly the drums starting resembling my footsteps, the flutes vocalizing my arms, the strings rhyming one as my heart and the saxophones dictating my mind.....i wanted to lose it and i was losing it. These few moments of pleasure...times when I forget everything and everyone around me...times when I am a stranger to everyone around me and yet i am filled with the sense of deepest self. Music controlling my moves....leading me away in a trance....when I am away from all the pain and all those haunting memories....when I become a child once again...carefree, joyous and happy!
Someone calls out my name and the magic ends. Once again I am susceptible to that familiar chill, yet again I am vulnerable to that dark loneliness. But then again I am getting used to it now....its been a long time after all! It took me a while but finally I have created two worlds...two very different and disparate worlds separated by a wall of acceptance and reality... a wall of mortal facts and immortal emotions. You can consider these two worlds as real as possible like anyone else's .... but at the same time you can find them to be mere ramblings of my fantastical self. My world of reality is based on practical facts and figures....including a full time and high paying job, a great family back home, their hopes and dreams unto me, and some really good friends who have more or less always been around. Though their understanding words or sympathetic shoulders do not take away the pain....but their mere presence and the fact that such normality still exists; gives me hope that one fine day things will definitely be better. This is a world of real time facts and tough as it might be, it still keeps me moving and living every single day. The other world is a private one....it is full of love and longing; arguments and hatred; restlessness and failure; tears and immense pain.... can't explain this world of mine, its arcane and pensive, it futile and brittle, its a world where I don't need to explain or pretend, where I can just lie down and rest in my realities.
Sometimes I feel like I am standing on the edge of a precipice...balancing my life and its equations protected in a very delicate crystal shield....scared to think about the consequences of an evident fall; trying hard to ignore the choking screams and premonitions my conscious keeps sending my way. I always believed I was born tough, nurtured for strength and bigger things, to protect and care for others...to follow my path to destiny whatever may come! I wasn't meant to hurt like this or be weak like this....wonder how did I land up this way! Nevertheless I am still fighting to find my way through this haze, this eventuality...praying to God...with all the faith in my heart to help me through this falling apart...help me live again, smile again completely and heart fully and to stop this slow death. Hopefully one day I will find my peace and regain my mouthful of sky!
The music kept swirling its essence around, and slowly the drums starting resembling my footsteps, the flutes vocalizing my arms, the strings rhyming one as my heart and the saxophones dictating my mind.....i wanted to lose it and i was losing it. These few moments of pleasure...times when I forget everything and everyone around me...times when I am a stranger to everyone around me and yet i am filled with the sense of deepest self. Music controlling my moves....leading me away in a trance....when I am away from all the pain and all those haunting memories....when I become a child once again...carefree, joyous and happy!
Someone calls out my name and the magic ends. Once again I am susceptible to that familiar chill, yet again I am vulnerable to that dark loneliness. But then again I am getting used to it now....its been a long time after all! It took me a while but finally I have created two worlds...two very different and disparate worlds separated by a wall of acceptance and reality... a wall of mortal facts and immortal emotions. You can consider these two worlds as real as possible like anyone else's .... but at the same time you can find them to be mere ramblings of my fantastical self. My world of reality is based on practical facts and figures....including a full time and high paying job, a great family back home, their hopes and dreams unto me, and some really good friends who have more or less always been around. Though their understanding words or sympathetic shoulders do not take away the pain....but their mere presence and the fact that such normality still exists; gives me hope that one fine day things will definitely be better. This is a world of real time facts and tough as it might be, it still keeps me moving and living every single day. The other world is a private one....it is full of love and longing; arguments and hatred; restlessness and failure; tears and immense pain.... can't explain this world of mine, its arcane and pensive, it futile and brittle, its a world where I don't need to explain or pretend, where I can just lie down and rest in my realities.
Sometimes I feel like I am standing on the edge of a precipice...balancing my life and its equations protected in a very delicate crystal shield....scared to think about the consequences of an evident fall; trying hard to ignore the choking screams and premonitions my conscious keeps sending my way. I always believed I was born tough, nurtured for strength and bigger things, to protect and care for others...to follow my path to destiny whatever may come! I wasn't meant to hurt like this or be weak like this....wonder how did I land up this way! Nevertheless I am still fighting to find my way through this haze, this eventuality...praying to God...with all the faith in my heart to help me through this falling apart...help me live again, smile again completely and heart fully and to stop this slow death. Hopefully one day I will find my peace and regain my mouthful of sky!
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Hazaaron Khyaahishen aisi....
Hazaaron khvaahishen aisii ki har khvaaish pe dam nikale
Bahut nikale mere armaan lekin phir bhi kam nikale
Dare kyun meraa qaatil kyaa rahegaa usakii gardan par
Vo khuun jo chashm-e-tar se umr bhar yuun dam-ba-dam nikale
Nikalanaa khuld se aadam kaa sunate aaye hai.n lekin
Bahut be-aabaruu hokar tere kuuche se ham nikale
Bharam khul jaaye zaalim tere qaamat kii daraazii kaa
Agar is turraa-e-purapech-o-kham kaa pech-o-kham nikale
Magar likhavaaye koii usako khat to hum se likhavaaye
Huii subah aur ghar se kaan par rakkhar qalam nikale
Huii is daur me mansuub mujhase baadaa-ashaamii
Phir aayaa vo zamaanaa jo jahaan se jaam-e-jam nikale
Huii jinase tavaqqo khastagii kii daad paane kii
Vo hamase bhii ziyaadaa khastaa-e-teg-e-sitam nikale
Muhabbat me nahin hai farq jeene aur marane kaa
Usii ko dekh kar jeete hai jis kaafir pe dam nikale
Zara kar jor siine par ki tiir-e-pursitam nikale
Jo vo nikle to dil nikale jo dil nikale to dam nikale
Khudaa ke vaaste pardaa na kaabe se uthaa zaalim
Kahin aisaa na ho yaan bhii vahii kaafir sanam nikale
Kahaan maikhaane ka daravaazaa ‘Ghalib’ aur kahaan vaaiz
par itanaa jaanate hain kal vo jaataa thaa ke ham nikale
T R A N S L A T I O N
I N
E N G L I S H
There are thousands of ambitions that each such wish could consume my life
My desires , and I experience them all intensely, aren’t enough for this one lifetime.
Why should my killer (lover) be afraid? No one will hold her responsible
for the blood which will continuously flow through my eyes all my life
Of the(unclean* ) birth of man, from the womb, one has heard
but you must see the humiliation of my rebirth when I passed shamelessly by your door!
The beauty of your flowing, offending, tresses can be fully exposed/experienced
only if I should let down my hair as I would open my turban.
( for a long while), I wanted no more than that I get to write the poetic letters
your many admires make me write to you, ( i went each day, like to work , with a pen behind my ear)
and I was acquainted with such intoxication during this period(of knowing you), my love
that the world , after , appeared passionless and dry.
I wandered looking for sympathy (to god)
who was himself , it turned out,was lovesick for you
then for me, there was no difference between living and dying
and I lived , each last breath looking at you (the infidel) from afar,
I then steeled myself and prised out the arrow of cupid from my heart
so that when it left, it took my heart with it, and with it, my last breath.
but now you come back to me, and ask me to lift your veil(marriage for the moslems),
Stop! because you may find me as unfaithful(as you once were) in love..
The preacher(wise religious man) is way high above a petty and disrespectful bar's entrance
yet I saw him entering the bar the other day as I was leaving!
Bahut nikale mere armaan lekin phir bhi kam nikale
Dare kyun meraa qaatil kyaa rahegaa usakii gardan par
Vo khuun jo chashm-e-tar se umr bhar yuun dam-ba-dam nikale
Nikalanaa khuld se aadam kaa sunate aaye hai.n lekin
Bahut be-aabaruu hokar tere kuuche se ham nikale
Bharam khul jaaye zaalim tere qaamat kii daraazii kaa
Agar is turraa-e-purapech-o-kham kaa pech-o-kham nikale
Magar likhavaaye koii usako khat to hum se likhavaaye
Huii subah aur ghar se kaan par rakkhar qalam nikale
Huii is daur me mansuub mujhase baadaa-ashaamii
Phir aayaa vo zamaanaa jo jahaan se jaam-e-jam nikale
Huii jinase tavaqqo khastagii kii daad paane kii
Vo hamase bhii ziyaadaa khastaa-e-teg-e-sitam nikale
Muhabbat me nahin hai farq jeene aur marane kaa
Usii ko dekh kar jeete hai jis kaafir pe dam nikale
Zara kar jor siine par ki tiir-e-pursitam nikale
Jo vo nikle to dil nikale jo dil nikale to dam nikale
Khudaa ke vaaste pardaa na kaabe se uthaa zaalim
Kahin aisaa na ho yaan bhii vahii kaafir sanam nikale
Kahaan maikhaane ka daravaazaa ‘Ghalib’ aur kahaan vaaiz
par itanaa jaanate hain kal vo jaataa thaa ke ham nikale
T R A N S L A T I O N
I N
E N G L I S H
There are thousands of ambitions that each such wish could consume my life
My desires , and I experience them all intensely, aren’t enough for this one lifetime.
Why should my killer (lover) be afraid? No one will hold her responsible
for the blood which will continuously flow through my eyes all my life
Of the(unclean* ) birth of man, from the womb, one has heard
but you must see the humiliation of my rebirth when I passed shamelessly by your door!
The beauty of your flowing, offending, tresses can be fully exposed/experienced
only if I should let down my hair as I would open my turban.
( for a long while), I wanted no more than that I get to write the poetic letters
your many admires make me write to you, ( i went each day, like to work , with a pen behind my ear)
and I was acquainted with such intoxication during this period(of knowing you), my love
that the world , after , appeared passionless and dry.
I wandered looking for sympathy (to god)
who was himself , it turned out,was lovesick for you
then for me, there was no difference between living and dying
and I lived , each last breath looking at you (the infidel) from afar,
I then steeled myself and prised out the arrow of cupid from my heart
so that when it left, it took my heart with it, and with it, my last breath.
but now you come back to me, and ask me to lift your veil(marriage for the moslems),
Stop! because you may find me as unfaithful(as you once were) in love..
The preacher(wise religious man) is way high above a petty and disrespectful bar's entrance
yet I saw him entering the bar the other day as I was leaving!
Dil-e-nadan tujhe hua kya hai?.....
Dil-e-naadaa tujhe huaa kyaa hai
Aakhir is dard ki davaa kyaa hai
Ham hai mushtaaq aur vo bezaar
Yaa ilaahi, ye maajaraa kyaa hai
Mai bhi muh me zubaan rakhataa hun
Kaash puchho ki mudda kyaa hai
Jab ki tujh bin nahi koi maujud
Phir ye hagaamaa ai khudaa kyaa hai
Ye pari chehra log kaise hain
Gamaza-o-ishwa-o-ada kya hai
Shikan-e-zulf-e-ambari kyon hai
Nigah-e-chashm-e-surma sa kya hai
Sabz-o-gul kahaan se aaye hai
Abr kyaa chiz hai, havaa kyaa hai
Hum ko unase vafaa ki hai ummid
Jo nahi jaanate vafaa kyaa hai
Haan bhalaa kar, teraa bhalaa hogaa
Aur daravesh ki sadaa kyaa hai
Jaan tum par nisaar karataa hun
Mai nahi jaanataa duaa kyaa hai
Maine maanaa ki kuchh nahi "Gaalib"
Muft haath aaye, to buraa kyaa hai
T R A N S L A T I O N
I N
E N G L I S H
What causes wretchedness, of my heart so pure*?
O, this mighty misery! Does it have no cure?
My feverish anxiety, and your coldness untold
O God, the mystery! but could someone unfold?
I too have a tongue in my mouth
If only was I asked about my view?
If there is none except you- in this ephemeral world
Then why is this ruckus? And what for is this word?
What are these beautiful angelic faced people like?
What are all the airs and graces about?
Why are these scented coiled curls created?(Hair?)
What is the meaning of the glance of thy eyes lined with kohl?
Where from have this beautiful flora and greenery originated?
What is this cloud and the wind?
Why do I seek commitment? My faith does endure!
From who knows not its meaning, even I’m so sure
Yes, do good, and good will come to you
What but this does the mendicant say?
My life is for taking, take it if you wish to take,
That’s what I offer; false prayers I do not make.
I agree if you’d say, for you ‘Ghalib’ is ‘nothing’,
But it does no harm to get him, He who costs ‘nothing’!
Aakhir is dard ki davaa kyaa hai
Ham hai mushtaaq aur vo bezaar
Yaa ilaahi, ye maajaraa kyaa hai
Mai bhi muh me zubaan rakhataa hun
Kaash puchho ki mudda kyaa hai
Jab ki tujh bin nahi koi maujud
Phir ye hagaamaa ai khudaa kyaa hai
Ye pari chehra log kaise hain
Gamaza-o-ishwa-o-ada kya hai
Shikan-e-zulf-e-ambari kyon hai
Nigah-e-chashm-e-surma sa kya hai
Sabz-o-gul kahaan se aaye hai
Abr kyaa chiz hai, havaa kyaa hai
Hum ko unase vafaa ki hai ummid
Jo nahi jaanate vafaa kyaa hai
Haan bhalaa kar, teraa bhalaa hogaa
Aur daravesh ki sadaa kyaa hai
Jaan tum par nisaar karataa hun
Mai nahi jaanataa duaa kyaa hai
Maine maanaa ki kuchh nahi "Gaalib"
Muft haath aaye, to buraa kyaa hai
T R A N S L A T I O N
I N
E N G L I S H
What causes wretchedness, of my heart so pure*?
O, this mighty misery! Does it have no cure?
My feverish anxiety, and your coldness untold
O God, the mystery! but could someone unfold?
I too have a tongue in my mouth
If only was I asked about my view?
If there is none except you- in this ephemeral world
Then why is this ruckus? And what for is this word?
What are these beautiful angelic faced people like?
What are all the airs and graces about?
Why are these scented coiled curls created?(Hair?)
What is the meaning of the glance of thy eyes lined with kohl?
Where from have this beautiful flora and greenery originated?
What is this cloud and the wind?
Why do I seek commitment? My faith does endure!
From who knows not its meaning, even I’m so sure
Yes, do good, and good will come to you
What but this does the mendicant say?
My life is for taking, take it if you wish to take,
That’s what I offer; false prayers I do not make.
I agree if you’d say, for you ‘Ghalib’ is ‘nothing’,
But it does no harm to get him, He who costs ‘nothing’!
Har ek baat pe kehte ho tum...
Har ek baat pe kehte ho tum ke ‘too kya hai’ ?
Tumheen kaho ke yeh andaaz-e-guftgoo kya hai ?
Na shole mein yeh karishma na barq mein yeh ada
Koee batao ki woh shokh-e-tund_khoo kya hai ?
Yeh rashk hai ki wo hota hai ham_sukhan tumse
Wagarna khauf-e-bad_aamozi-e-adoo kya hai ?
Chipak raha hai badan par lahoo se pairaahan
Hamaaree jeb ko ab haajat-e-rafoo kya hai ?
Jalaa hai jicm jahaan dil bhee jal gaya hoga
Kuredate ho jo ab raakh, justjoo kya hai ?
Ragon mein daudte firne ke ham naheen qaayal
Jab aankh hee se na tapka to fir lahoo kya hai ?
Woh cheez jiske liye hamko ho bahisht azeez
Siwaay baada-e-gul_faam-e-mushkaboo kya hai ?
Piyoon sharaab agar khum bhee dekh loon do chaar
Yeh sheesha-o-qadah-o-kooza-o-suboo kya hai ?
Rahee na taaqat-e-guftaar, aur agar ho bhee
To kis ummeed pe kahiye ke aarzoo kya hai ?
Bana hai shaah ka musaahib, fire hai itaraata
Wagarna shehar mein ‘Ghalib’ kee aabroo kya hai ?
T R A N S L A T I O N
I N
E N G L I S H
At everything that I say, you say, “Who art thou”?
Tell me what kind of talk is this?
Neither the flame has this miracle, nor the lightning this grace,
Will anyone tell me, what is that ill tempered mischievous/coquettish one.
My envy is that he converses with you
Otherwise what is the fear that he would mislead you (against me).
Sticking to the body is the dress with blood
What is the need now to darn the collar?
Where the body has burned, the heart too must have been burned,
Raking/poking the ashes, what do you desire for (search for) now?
I do not believe in only running through the veins
When it does not drip through the eye, then is it blood at all?
The thing for which paradise is dear to us
Is nothing except the pink, musk scented wine.
I would drink wine if I see a few wine barrels
What is this glass and goblet and tumbler.
The strength to speak has gone; and even if it existed
With what expectation would one say “What is my desire?”
Having become the king’s associate he is putting on airs
Otherwise what dignity does Ghalib have in the city.
Tumheen kaho ke yeh andaaz-e-guftgoo kya hai ?
Na shole mein yeh karishma na barq mein yeh ada
Koee batao ki woh shokh-e-tund_khoo kya hai ?
Yeh rashk hai ki wo hota hai ham_sukhan tumse
Wagarna khauf-e-bad_aamozi-e-adoo kya hai ?
Chipak raha hai badan par lahoo se pairaahan
Hamaaree jeb ko ab haajat-e-rafoo kya hai ?
Jalaa hai jicm jahaan dil bhee jal gaya hoga
Kuredate ho jo ab raakh, justjoo kya hai ?
Ragon mein daudte firne ke ham naheen qaayal
Jab aankh hee se na tapka to fir lahoo kya hai ?
Woh cheez jiske liye hamko ho bahisht azeez
Siwaay baada-e-gul_faam-e-mushkaboo kya hai ?
Piyoon sharaab agar khum bhee dekh loon do chaar
Yeh sheesha-o-qadah-o-kooza-o-suboo kya hai ?
Rahee na taaqat-e-guftaar, aur agar ho bhee
To kis ummeed pe kahiye ke aarzoo kya hai ?
Bana hai shaah ka musaahib, fire hai itaraata
Wagarna shehar mein ‘Ghalib’ kee aabroo kya hai ?
T R A N S L A T I O N
I N
E N G L I S H
At everything that I say, you say, “Who art thou”?
Tell me what kind of talk is this?
Neither the flame has this miracle, nor the lightning this grace,
Will anyone tell me, what is that ill tempered mischievous/coquettish one.
My envy is that he converses with you
Otherwise what is the fear that he would mislead you (against me).
Sticking to the body is the dress with blood
What is the need now to darn the collar?
Where the body has burned, the heart too must have been burned,
Raking/poking the ashes, what do you desire for (search for) now?
I do not believe in only running through the veins
When it does not drip through the eye, then is it blood at all?
The thing for which paradise is dear to us
Is nothing except the pink, musk scented wine.
I would drink wine if I see a few wine barrels
What is this glass and goblet and tumbler.
The strength to speak has gone; and even if it existed
With what expectation would one say “What is my desire?”
Having become the king’s associate he is putting on airs
Otherwise what dignity does Ghalib have in the city.
Yeh na thee hamari qismat...
Yeh na thee hamari qismat.... keh wisaal-e-yaar hota
Agar aur jeete rahtay... yehi intezaar hota
Tere waade par jiyee ham... to yeh jaan jhoot jana
Keh khushi se mar na jaate... agar intezaar hota
Teree naazukee se jaana... ke bandha tha 'ehed_booda
Kabhee too na tod sakta... agar oostuwaar hota
Yeh kahaan ki dosti hai... bane hain dost naaseh
Koi chaarasaaz hota... koi ghamghuzar hota
Rag-e-sang se tapakta... wo lahoo ki phir na thamta
Jise gham samajh rahe ho... ye agar sharaar hota
Gham agarche jaan_gulis hai... per kahaan bache ke dil hai
Gham-e-ishq gar na hota... gham-e-rozgaar hota
Kahoon kis se main keh kya... hai shab-e-gham buri balaa hai
Mujhe kya bura tha marana... agar ek baar hota
Huay mar keh ham jo ruswa... huay kyun ka gharq-e-dariya
Na kabhi janaaza uthata... na kahin mazaar hota
Usay kaun dekh sakta... ke yagaana hai wo yaktaa
Jo dooee ki boo bhee hotee... to kaheen do chaar hota
Yeh masaael-e-tasavvuf... yeh tera bayan ghalib
Tujhe ham wali samajhate... Joh na badaakhwar hota.
Agar aur jeete rahtay... yehi intezaar hota
Tere waade par jiyee ham... to yeh jaan jhoot jana
Keh khushi se mar na jaate... agar intezaar hota
Teree naazukee se jaana... ke bandha tha 'ehed_booda
Kabhee too na tod sakta... agar oostuwaar hota
Yeh kahaan ki dosti hai... bane hain dost naaseh
Koi chaarasaaz hota... koi ghamghuzar hota
Rag-e-sang se tapakta... wo lahoo ki phir na thamta
Jise gham samajh rahe ho... ye agar sharaar hota
Gham agarche jaan_gulis hai... per kahaan bache ke dil hai
Gham-e-ishq gar na hota... gham-e-rozgaar hota
Kahoon kis se main keh kya... hai shab-e-gham buri balaa hai
Mujhe kya bura tha marana... agar ek baar hota
Huay mar keh ham jo ruswa... huay kyun ka gharq-e-dariya
Na kabhi janaaza uthata... na kahin mazaar hota
Usay kaun dekh sakta... ke yagaana hai wo yaktaa
Jo dooee ki boo bhee hotee... to kaheen do chaar hota
Yeh masaael-e-tasavvuf... yeh tera bayan ghalib
Tujhe ham wali samajhate... Joh na badaakhwar hota.
T R A N S L A T I O N
I N
E N G L I S H
It was never in my fate to meet my beloved.
Even if more years of life was to me allocated, I would have been still awaiting the prize cherished.
If you think that I had been living on your promise, it is a lie.
For, if I had faith in you, would not of joy I would die.
From your frailty I learnt that the promise was delicate
It would not stand broken had you been determined
Woe betide, my friendship, that the friends give pious advice and sermons they deliver.
I need someone on whose shoulders could I weep, who could allay my grief and my fears.
From every nerve drips blood without restraint
As if that which you think is anguish is but a spark
Threatening as love is, there is no deliverance from the heart
If not the torment of love, it would be the torment of life
Whom should I tell that the night of sorrow is full of pangs.
I would not have resented the death, if it comes only once.
Disgraced, as I was after my death, why didn't I drown in a river or sea.
Neither, there would have been a funeral, nor tomb erected for me.
Who can see him since, his Oneness is without peer
Even the scent of his duality, would be an introduction
This mysticism, the marvels of ethics and your statements full of meanings.
I would have counted you, "Ghalib" amongst dearest friends of God; if only, you had not been a lover of drinks.
I would not have resented the death, if it comes only once.
Disgraced, as I was after my death, why didn't I drown in a river or sea.
Neither, there would have been a funeral, nor tomb erected for me.
Who can see him since, his Oneness is without peer
Even the scent of his duality, would be an introduction
This mysticism, the marvels of ethics and your statements full of meanings.
I would have counted you, "Ghalib" amongst dearest friends of God; if only, you had not been a lover of drinks.
Mirza Ghalib - a humble tribute!
I know thousands of amateurs and romantics, poets and shayars have tried their hands at the impossible....but nevertheless couldn't resist the urge in myself to do the same. It is said that every single line written by Mirza Ghalib can be interpreted in numerous different ways, each word, couplet... having a life and meaning of its own. The blind listens to it as music and the deaf darns its colors; but only the poet knows the thought behind it.
Before making this beautiful, creative and almost spiritual journey, its only fair to take a moment to introduce and thank this wonderful teacher, magician, poet, author.... for the sake of simplicity of addressing lets call him a "master of words". I will take this section to speak about the person that Ghalib was; my next few blogs will try to comprehend some of his timeless masterpieces.
Dabir-ul-Mulk, Najm-ud-Daula Mirza Asadullah Baig Khan Ghalib (27 December 1797 – 15 February 1869), was a classical Urdu and Persian poet from India during British colonial rule. He was seldom also known by his former pen-name, Asad.
During his lifetime the Mughals were eclipsed and displaced by the British and finally deposed following the defeat of the Indian rebellion of 1857, events that he wrote of. Most notably, he wrote several ghazals during his life, which have since been interpreted and sung in many different ways by different people. He is considered, in South Asia, to be one of the most popular and influential poets of the Urdu language. Ghalib today remains popular not only in India and Pakistan but also amongst diaspora communities around the world.
The idea that life is one continuous painful struggle which can end only when life itself ends, is a recurring theme in his poetry. One of his couplets puts it in a nutshell.
Before making this beautiful, creative and almost spiritual journey, its only fair to take a moment to introduce and thank this wonderful teacher, magician, poet, author.... for the sake of simplicity of addressing lets call him a "master of words". I will take this section to speak about the person that Ghalib was; my next few blogs will try to comprehend some of his timeless masterpieces.
Dabir-ul-Mulk, Najm-ud-Daula Mirza Asadullah Baig Khan Ghalib (27 December 1797 – 15 February 1869), was a classical Urdu and Persian poet from India during British colonial rule. He was seldom also known by his former pen-name, Asad.
During his lifetime the Mughals were eclipsed and displaced by the British and finally deposed following the defeat of the Indian rebellion of 1857, events that he wrote of. Most notably, he wrote several ghazals during his life, which have since been interpreted and sung in many different ways by different people. He is considered, in South Asia, to be one of the most popular and influential poets of the Urdu language. Ghalib today remains popular not only in India and Pakistan but also amongst diaspora communities around the world.
The idea that life is one continuous painful struggle which can end only when life itself ends, is a recurring theme in his poetry. One of his couplets puts it in a nutshell.
The prison of life and the bondage of grief are one and the same
Before the onset of death, how can man expect to be free of grief
Before the onset of death, how can man expect to be free of grief
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