I have been listening to ghazals by ghalib since childhood. My father used to love them. I could never fathom what they meant, none the less it was a pleasure to my simpleton self.
Growing up during college, once in a while someone who understands these would help me comprehend their gist. I always felt connected to them whenever i heard and which was often in times of isolation. I used to be very emotional and they felt perfect.
Its only in the past three years that works by ghalib started revealing their meaning to me. I am making a feeble attempt to present the same here.
Aate hain gaib se yeh mazami khayaal mein
Ghalib sareer e khama, nawa e surosh hai
( These thoughts that I commit to words come straight from the unknown. The susurrus that my quill doth make is in fact the angel who spake.)
His works portray his paradigm shift of understanding Ishq, from mizazi to hakiki. How is first love that is life we all live, flirts with him through out ceaselessly and never totally becoming his lover. Later he moves to the Maikhana for reckoning this constant irony.
I often find myself quoting a couplet that suits me way too much and seems to be satire by him on himself.
Yeh masaile tassawuf, yeh tera bayan ghalib
Tujhe hum wali samajhte jo na bada khaar hota.
This will be a platform to dwell for all smitten by this bug and been enchanted by life. Those who want ascend from the conventional comprehension and acceptance of this competitive, mechanical, emotional and mundane struggle.
Growing up during college, once in a while someone who understands these would help me comprehend their gist. I always felt connected to them whenever i heard and which was often in times of isolation. I used to be very emotional and they felt perfect.
Its only in the past three years that works by ghalib started revealing their meaning to me. I am making a feeble attempt to present the same here.
Aate hain gaib se yeh mazami khayaal mein
Ghalib sareer e khama, nawa e surosh hai
( These thoughts that I commit to words come straight from the unknown. The susurrus that my quill doth make is in fact the angel who spake.)
His works portray his paradigm shift of understanding Ishq, from mizazi to hakiki. How is first love that is life we all live, flirts with him through out ceaselessly and never totally becoming his lover. Later he moves to the Maikhana for reckoning this constant irony.
I often find myself quoting a couplet that suits me way too much and seems to be satire by him on himself.
Yeh masaile tassawuf, yeh tera bayan ghalib
Tujhe hum wali samajhte jo na bada khaar hota.
This will be a platform to dwell for all smitten by this bug and been enchanted by life. Those who want ascend from the conventional comprehension and acceptance of this competitive, mechanical, emotional and mundane struggle.
