A rare portrait of Ghalib
13 February 2010
Ghalib the Urdu poet who described himself as a man-bitten muse, remains immortal by way of his Urdu and Persian poetry and his modern witty prose. His religious views were secular even by the twenty first century standards - I wrote about his eclectic poetry and also posted a piece on his little, neglected Haveli in Delhi. Thanks to Aniket Alam, I discovered his photograph and am posting it here.
[...] Rumi A rare portrait of Ghalib 3 hours [...]
Dear JahaneRumi
The above photo of the Mirza Sahib is from Dr. Francis Pritchett’s wonderfully desertful commentary, A desertfil of Roses. Fran put it up recently on the site-there are other representations of the Mirza Sahib there too!
Regards
satya
wowo . thanks for sharing
GHALIB 100 Phir is andaaz say bahaar aaie
O with great fanfare the spring is here
And the moon and the stars are coming to cheer
The bounty of God you cannot deny
Oh, what a beautiful way to beautify
With splendor the earth is flying high
It has become as dazzling as the glamorous sky
It’s bright, and beautiful, and happy, and gay
And everything is green, and gone is the gray
In the springtime rain, having taken their showers
The flowers are admiring their fellow flowers
The breeze is bursting with fragrance divine
And the air is drunk with the smell of wine
And it’s also great for the commonwealth
That the king has, GHALIB, regained his health
GHAILB 88 Dil e naadaan tujhay hua kya hay
O my foolish heart, what’s wrong with you?
Why are you always feeling so blue?
Oh, I’m so eager and she’s so cold
But that’s her nature I have been told
I am not mute; I do have a tongue
Why doesn’t she ask me why am I hung?
Oh, in Your being I don’t have a doubt
But tell me, O God, what’s it all about?
Why do we have these beautiful girls?
And what are the brows and the raven curls?
And why do they have such charming eyes?
And why do they enchant and mesmerize?
And what’re the clouds, and what’s the breeze?
And why are there flowers, bushes, and trees?
And why do the lovers hold them so dear
The girls who’re faithless and insincere?
For my beautiful gal I yearn and crave
Though I’m a beggar and a lowly slave
And I’ll not falter; I’ll not demur
If she needs my life, I’ll give it for her
And GHALIB I wonder what’s wrong with me?
And why doesn’t she take me when I’m for free?