Sep 26, 2023
Sep 26, 2023
by Rakesh Bedi
Whatever one writes is expression of ones self. Ones experiences; occurring through mind or enjoying vicariously and filtered through thought process, take the shape and form with pen. Every creative artiste had been, is and shall be having paranoiac tendencies. He is quite efficient and capable to see through the present; jumping at will in the unknown layers of future and slipping quietly and unintentionally into the lanes of past. That is what imagination is! And how can one be a creative artiste without being imaginative?
Poetry just dawns. The metaphors, thoughts, similes and emotions just appear out of nowhere. And whatever just happens can be termed nothing but Divinity. To me, Ghalib was a Divine poet. All his creations were addressed and directed towards God; some directly and others in a subtle hidden way, which you know only after reading between the lines.
A ghazal penned down by him begins:
Un ke dekhe se jo aa jati hai munh pe raunak,
Vo samajhte hain ke bimar ka haal achha hai.
Look at his state of separation, from Him! He does not say, when I meet Him or see Him, the expression used is; when He observes me, I get filled with happiness, contentment and exuberance. God being above everything; has been made the source of his well-being.
The next couplet goes:
Dekhiye pate hain qushak buton se kya faiz,
Ik brahman ne kahe hai ke ye saal achha hai.
He questions the self as to what joy will I receive from the lifeless images, idols of Gods and Deities? Because, prediction of an astrologer goes to declare this year as a good year for him. A good year to Ghalib meant; not the materialistic possessions or any worldly achievements but the grace and joy he'll receive from the Almighty who is in this world in the shape and form of lifeless images.
Then, Ghalib penned down:
Hum ko malum hai jannat ki haqeekat lekin,
Dil ke khush rakhne ko Ghalib ye khyal achha hai.
Normal practice of blessing someone has been with reference to jannat (heaven). In Hindus, even today, the departed soul is referred to as Swargwasi (having abode in the heaven). To me it seems that he expressed his awareness of heaven and then goes to complete; not a bad thought to keep one happy. Here, he seems to be one with God to write of his awareness of various myths with which a normal man lives and dies.
In the above three couplets of a Ghazal by Ghalib, I felt his passion, love and knowledge of Super-Soul expressed beautifully.'
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