A Thousand Yearnings

by Ralph Russell

  It was her eyes that taught them how to shine.

  chashmak e anjum mein itni dilkashi aage na thi

  seekh li taaron ne us ki aankh jhamkaane ki tarah

  Perhaps when it passed by that way my love was combing out her hair:

  The scented breeze of morning brings a fragrance into every lane.

  ab jo naseem muattar aayi shaayad baal khule uss ke

  sheher ki saari galiyaan ho gayin goya anbar saara aaj.

  By following his heart he faces the censure of society:

  I take my stand for her—the world turns and assails me:

  I am her friend—and all creation is my enemy.

  uss ki taraf jo li hum ne hai apni taraf se phira aalam

  yaani dosti se us but ki dushman saari khudaai hui.

  Whom all the world reviles and persecutes, that man am I—

  Struck down by fate, and by her cruelty, and my distress.

  kare hai jis ko malaamat jahaan vo main hi hoon

  ajal raseeda, jafa deeda, iztiraab zada.

  He sometimes feels that he would have done better to do what most of his fellows did, and take care never to fall in love:

  Would that mankind had been immune to love,

  For it spares neither lover nor beloved.

  muhabbat na ho kaash makhlooq ko

  na chode ye aashiq na maashooq ko.

  Live in the chains of slavery, and die in jail

  But do not fall into the snare of love.

  zindaan mein phanse, tauq pade, qaid mein mar jaaye

  par daam e muhabbat mein giriftaar na hovay.

  Speaking of himself in the voice of someone else (this is the last couplet of the ghazal where he is expected to use his pen-name):

  Mir’s last behest to me was only this:

  ‘Do what you will, my son, but do not love!’

  vasiyat Mir ne mujh ko yehi ki

  ki sab kuchh hona tu, aashiq na hona.

  But for himself, he chose to love, minimizing neither the pain nor the joy that love brought him. He knew the price he might be called upon to pay, and was ready to pay it:

  At the first trial your life may be demanded.

  If you’re afraid, don’t come into the field.

  ishq mein gaam e avval apne ji se guzarna pesh aaya

  iss maidaan mein rakh ke qadam kya marne se dar jaavein hum

  Just sacrifice your life, and fear is banished.

  Go on your way; all danger will have vanished.

  guzar jaan se aur dar kuchh nahin

  rah e ishq mein phir khatar kuchh nahin

  A man’s love for a woman might awaken in her a consciousness of her own beauty and give her a sense of power over him:

  A man may die, and she will never care.

  Oh God! Oh God! Just see how proud she is!

  marjaao koi parva nahin hai

  kitna hai maghroor! Allaah! Allaah!

  The study of her beauty occupies her. What are you?

  Though you desire her and petition her day in, day out.

  vo mahv e jamaal apne hai, parva nahin us ko

  khaahaan raho tum ab, ki talabgaar raho tum

  Such pride in your fair symmetry, my love?

  God marred you when He made you beautiful.

  tanaasub pe aza ke itna tabakhtur!

  bigaada tujhe khubsoorat banaakar

  I nurse a wounded heart; she laughs and turns away.

  Such is my heavy grief: so light she makes of it.

  main ji sambhaalta hoon vo hanske taalta hai

  yahaan mushkilein hain aisi vahaan ye masaahile hain

  My lips returned no answer to all the world’s revilings;

  But what was that to you, love? You did not even notice.

  bin kuchh kahe suna hai aalam se maine kya kya

  par tu ne ye na jaana, aye bevafa, ki kya tha

  See your own beauty and rejoice: I never said ‘Do not do so.’

  But sometimes spare a glance for me, and see what it has brought me to.

  karta hai kaun mana ki saj apni tu na dekh?

  lekin kabhi to Mir ke kar haal par nazar

  But if she is cruel to him, no matter. He can bear all that she can inflict:

  The arrows of your pride fly fast against the target of our breasts,

  But iron breastplates are the hearts of those that pledge their love to you.

  tere teer e naaz ke jo ye hadaf hue hain, zaalim

  magar aahani tavve hain jigar e niyaaz mandaan

  Compared to contemptuous indifference, even her anger is welcome:

  I rouse your wrath,—and when I do at least you glance this way.

  If only I could make you angry with me all the time!

  hote ho be-damaagh toh dekho ho tuk idhar

  ghussa hi hum pe kaash ke aksar raha karo

  At times, he pretends that he does not understand why she behaves as she does:

  I cannot see why you should act the stranger,

  For you and I sprang from a common source.

  vajah e begaanagi nahin maaloom

  tum jahaan ke ho, vahaan ke hum bhi hain

  I sit in silent wonder at your beauty,

  And you? What is it that has struck you dumb?

  hum to tumhaare husn ki hairat se hain khamosh tum

  hum se koi karte nahin baat, kya sabab?

  He humorously envisages a situation which would have made a difference to the way things stand:

  We have no common ground on which to meet.

  If only you had been a poet too!

  kuchh vaseelo nahin jo us se miloon

  sher ho yaar ka shaayar aye kaash!

  —or he points out to her how popular he is with others and asks her to follow their example:

  Beauty you have—now find fair words to match it.

  This is what makes men speak so well of Mir.

  husn to hai hi—karo lutf e zabaan bhi paida

  Mir ko dekho ki sab log bhala kehte hain

  Men come from south and east and west in hopes to get a glimpse of me—

  Sad, that it should be you alone care nothing for my company.

  dakkhin poorab pacchim se log aakar mujko dekhein hain

  haif ki tum ko parva nahin hai mutlaq meri suhbat ki

  At all events he does not give up, and dreams of what he hopes may one day happen:

  The spring has come, the flowers bloom cheek by cheek—

  Would you and I might stand thus in the garden!

  bahaar aayi gul phool sar jode nikle

  rahein bagh mein kaash is rang hum tu

  ‘Sleep in my arms!’—no, these are words I cannot find the strength to say

  You need not speak; you need not stop; just pause as you pass by this way.

  sabr kahaan jo tum ko kahiye lag ke gale se so jao

  bolo na bolo, baitho na baitho, khade khade tuk ho jao

  My love, I cannot tell the tale of all the things I want from you.

  A hundred longings fill my soul, a thousand yearnings throng my heart.

  kya kahiye kya rakhein hain hum tujh se, yaar, khvaahish

  yak jaan, sad tamanna—yak dil hazaar khvaahish

  Joy of my life, her body overflows with all delights.

  Ah for the day when she will come and sleep in my embrace!

  lutf se labrez hai us kaam e jaan ka sab badan

  mukhtalif hojaaye hum se jo kabhu to, haaye, vo

  There are signs that such a day may come—moments when she is content to let him see her as she is:

  You use no charms, no sidelong glance, no wayward airs to win me now—

  Nothing but your simplicity—and this has won me heart and soul.

  ek faqat hai saadagi, tis pe bala e jaan hai tu

  ishva karishma kuchh nahin, aan nahin, ada nahin

  There are hesitations, but in the end she comes to him:

  Time after time she broke her word, but when she came at last

  I saw her from afar and knew: to see her was to love her.
r />   der bad ahd vo jo yaar aaya

  door se dekhte hi pyaar aaya.

  And when she does come there is initial shyness:

  Her sweet reluctance fires me with a keener love for her

  And her resistance gives a joy compliance cannot give.

  iqraar mein kahaan hai inkar ki si khoobi

  hota hai shauq Ghalib us ki ‘nahin! nahin!’ par

  We pass the long nights naked in each other’s arms. How strange

  That in the daytime still she shyly veils her face from me.

  raaton paas gale lag sote nange hokar—hai ye ajab

  din ko be-parda nahin milte hum se sharmaate hain hanoz

  He tells her that all he can offer her is his love:

  Now you have come I’ve nothing left to offer you but this:

  I’ll draw you into my embrace and love you all day long.

  aaj humaare ghar aaya to kya hai yahaan jo nisaar karein?

  ila khainch baghal mein tujh ko der talak hum pyaar karein

  In a long poem (called a masnavi) Mir tells the story of his own separation from his beloved. Here is the relevant passage in prose translation:

  One day she said to me,‘No good can come of our love; how long can we go on pining for each other like this?’ I was too consumed by love to see the truth of her words, but today I think of them and weep.

  How can I describe what I suffered in separation from her? At nights I imagined her with me, but the days were unbearable. For years we did not see each other again. I was indifferent to the world, and to my wife and my children and my family. I would think with longing of the days when, in spite of all difficulties and dangers, I would sometimes come to her and sit silently by her. For her sake all my relatives and friends had set their faces against me and called me mad, and the meanest and most contemptible people had taunted me to my face. At last the grief of separation became more than either of us could bear. We met, and this time satisfied all the yearning of our hearts. We were together for several days, but there came a day when we again had to part. It was not her fault. Our fate was against us. She said,‘It is best that we should part for some time. In love, there comes a stage when such things have to be faced. Do not think I am forsaking you, and do not grieve too much. As long as I live, you will be in my heart. I too grieve at this parting. But what can I do? My honour must be my first concern.’ I could not speak in reply. I sat stunned and silent before her, trying to keep back the tears and speaking only if she spoke. After night fell, we parted, and I went from her lane as one who leaves behind him everything that is precious in the world.

  I bear my sorrow alone. There is no one to whom I can tell my secret. Sometimes a message comes from her and I live again, but mostly nobody comes. How can I live parted from her like this? The memory of her is always with me—her loveliness, her tender love for me, her gentle speech, her grief at my distress, her longing to see me happy—and every memory brings the tears to my eyes. I long to be with her again, and without her I shall die.

  In his ghazals he deals constantly with this theme:

  The candle gutters in the draught, and my life too must waste away.

  Like it I weep, and burn, and melt, and pine away parted from you.

  gayi umar meri saari jaise sham e baad ke beech

  yehi rona, jalna, galna, yehi iztiraab tujh bin

  How happily the days would pass when she was with me day and night.

  It is a different picture now: the nights and days are not the same.

  vasl mein us ke roz o shab kya khoob guzarti thi apni!

  hijraan ka kuchh aur hai saamaan ab vo lail o nahaar nahin

  We whispered to each other then; now you don’t speak to me.

  Well, those were other times, and now another age has dawned.

  har aan thi sargoshi ya baat nahin gaahe

  auqaat hai ik ye bhi, ik vo bhi, zamaana tha

  When I was sad she used to run and throw her arms about me—

  She whom the whole world worshipped—but, alas, those days are gone.

  ab vo samaan nahin hai ki vo kaam jaan e khalq

  maghmoom hum ko dekh ke daura lipat gaya

  I loved to see her wake from sleep, and rub her eyes, and stretch and yawn.

  The beauty of this scene lives on unfading in my memory.

  ye bhi samaan khush tarkibon ka Mir na apne dil se gaya

  sote se uthkar aankhein mali hain, le angraai jamaahen hain

  My eyes still see you; you live in my heart

  Though years have passed since you would come and go.

  rehte ho tum aankhon mein phirte ho tumhin dil mein

  muddat se agarche yan aate ho na jaate ho

  Yet—in these linked couplets in a single ghazal—he affirms that he has no regrets:

  Much have I suffered in my love for you—

  Cruelty, persecution, and much more

  And life-long deprivation of the joys

  I spent the years in endless yearning for.

  Yet from my heart I pity any man

  Who never stood a suppliant at your door.

  zulm o jaur o jafa sitam bedaad

  ishq mein tere hum pe kya na hua

  hum to naa-kaam hi jahaan mein rahe

  yahaan kabhu apna mudda’a na hua

  Mir afsos vo ki jo koi

  uss ke darvaaze ka gada na hua

  In the symbolism of the ghazal, the sufferings of love crush the heart to blood. But it is love, with all its suffering, that gives joy to life:

  I passed my life in love’s intoxication

  Drunk with the rose-red wine of my heart’s blood.

  umar bhar hum rahe sharaabi se

  dil e pur khoon ki ik gulaabi se

  Ultimately, the fact that he can no longer see her does not matter:

  The bond of love does not depend on seeing you each day

  Come only once; you will be with me still my whole life through.

  roz aane pe nahin nisbat e ishqi mauquf

  umr bhar ek mulaaqaat chali jaati hai

  This is a realm where near and far are one;

  With her or parted from her, you must love.

  ishq mein vasl o judaai se nahin kuchh guftagu

  qurb o bod is ja baraabar hai—muhabbat chaahiye

  He knew from the start the risk that he was running:

  When once our hearts catch fire no power avails to save us from our fate

  Like lamps that burn throughout the night we too are steadily consumed.

  dil jalte kuchh ban nahin aati haal bigadte jaate hain

  jaise chiraagh e aakhri shab hum log nibarte jaate hain

  I knew that love would take my life as forfeit.

  When I began I knew how I would end.

  ishq jaana tha maar rakhega

  ibtida mein thi intiha maaloom

  I asked the breeze,‘Where shall I find the vagabonds of love?’

  It gathered up a little dust and raised it in the air.

  aavaaragaan e ishq ka poochha jo main nishaan

  musht e ghubaar le ke saba ne uda diya

  We are fated to love, just as in the Urdu and Persian poetic tradition the nightingale is fated to love the rose*, and the rose to be indifferent to its love, and the lightning to strike somewhere—though no one knows beforehand where:

  Burn in the red fire of the rose in silence—

  Lightning must strike, and it has struck your nest.

  aatish e rang e gul se kya kahiye?

  barq thi, aashiyaan par aayi

  * See note on p. 83.

  Ghalib’s More Nuanced View of Love

  Not all poets loved as Mir loved, with the complete commitment that his verses teach. The ghazals of Mir’s greatest successor, Ghalib, reveal a more complex view, both of himelf and of his relationship to the beloved.

  ~

  Like Mir he has verses which express the delights of love, and a capacity to enjoy them to the full:

  He who sits in the shade of his beloved’s wall<
br />
  Is lord and king of all the realm of Hindustan.

  baitha hai jo ki saaya e deevaar e yaar mein

  farmaan-rava e kishvar e hindostaan hai

  Sleep is for him, pride is for him, the nights for him

  Upon whose arm your tresses all dishevelled lay.

  neend us ki hai damaagh us ka hai raatein us ki hain

  teri zulfein jis ke baazu par pareshaan hogain

  All that she is puts Ghalib’s soul in turmoil

  All that she says, and hints, and looks, and does.

  bala e jaan hai, Ghalib, us ki har baat

  ibaarat kya, ishaarat kya, ada kya

  I shall write to you even without cause

  Simply to write your name fills me with love.

  khat likhenge garche matlab kuchh na ho

  hum to aashiq hain tumhaare naam ke

  He also knows the dangers of love:

  No one can govern love, Ghalib. This is a kind of fire

  No one can kindle; and, once kindled, no one can put out.

  ishq par zor nahin, hai ye vo aatish, Ghalib,

  ki lagaaye na lage aur bujhaaye na bane

  O foolish heart, what has befallen you?

  Do you know know this sickness has no cure?

  dil e naadaan tujhe hua kya hai?

  aakhir is dard ki dava kya hai?

  You ask what balm will soothe the wounded heart—

  Its main ingredient is diamond dust.

  na poochh nuskha e marham jaraahat e dil ka

  ki us mein reza e almaas juzv e aazam hai

  The rose’s scent, the heart’s complaint, smoke rising from the lamp—

  None comes from your assembly but distraught, in disarray.

  bu e gul, naala e dil, dood e chiraagh e mehfil

  jo teri bazm se nikla so pareshaan nikla

  Sometimes her sudden anger entrances him:

  Thousands of signs of love cannot match one averted gaze.

  Thousands of self-adornings cannot match one flare of wrath.

  laakhon lagaao ek churaana nigaah ka

  laakhon banaao ek bigadna etaab mein

  He is disappointed at her lack of sustained interest in him:

  The thought that beauty would be kind possessed me. What simplicity!

  Your coming was no more than just the prelude to your going.

  humaari saadagi thi iltifaat e naaz par marna

  tera aana na tha, zaalim, magar tamheed jaane ki

  But he loves her, and any kind of feeling she has for him is better than none:

  All wrath? All cruelty? Be what you may

  I wish that all you are had been for me.