(27 December 1797 – 15 February 1869 / Agra / British India)

This Was Not Our Destiny

This was not our destiny, that union with the beloved would take place.
If we had kept on living longer, then would have been kept waiting

If I lived on your promise, then know this that I knew it to be false
For would I not have died of happiness, if I had had trust [in it]?

From your delicacy I knew that the vow had been bound loosely
You could never have broken it, if it had been firm

Let someone ask my heart about your half-drawn arrow
Where would this anxiety/ pain have come from, if it had gone through the liver?

What kind of friendship is this, that friends have become Advisors?
If someone had been a healer, if someone had been a sympathizer!

From the rock-vein would drip that blood which would never have stopped
If this which you are considering 'grief' this were just a spark

Although grief is life-threatening, how would we escape, while there is a heart?

If there were not the grief of passion, there would be the grief of livelihood

To whom might I say what it is- the night of sadness is a bad disaster!
Why would I have minded dying, if it took place one time?

Since upon having died, I became disgraced- why were I not drowned in the ocean?
Neither a funeral procession would ever been formed, nor would there anywhere be a tomb

Who can see him? for that Oneness is unique
If there were even a whiff of twoness, then somehow [He] would be two or four

These problems of mysticism! this discourse of yours, Ghalib!
We would consider you a saint- if you weren't a wine-drinker.

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Comments (3)

These problems of mysticism! this discourse of yours, Ghalib! We would consider you a saint- if you weren't a wine-drinker. there s no ENGLISH EQUIVALENCE OF THIS URDU POEM ONE OF HIS BEST......ye naa thi hamaari qismat ke visaal-e-yaar hotaa agar aur jite rahate, yahi itazaar hotaa tere vaade par jiye ham, to ye jaan jhuth jaanaa ke khushi se mar na jaate, agar etabaar hotaa teri naazuki se jaanaa ke badhaa thaa ahad buda kabhi tu na tod sakataa, agar usatavaar hotaa koi mere dil se puchhe, tere tir-e-nim kash ko ye khalish kahaan se hoti, jo jigar ke paar hotaa ye kahaan ki dosti hai ke bane hai dost naaseh koi chaaraa saaz hotaa, koi gam gusaar hotaa rag-e-sag se tapakataa, vo lahu ke phir na thamataa jise gam samajh rahe ho, ye agar sharaar hotaa gam agar-che jaan gusal hai, par kahaan bachai ke dil hai gam-e-ishq gar na hotaa, gam-e-rozagaar hotaa kahun kis se mai ke kiyaa hai, shab-e-gam buri balaa hai mujhe kiyaa buraa thaa maran agar aik baar hotaa hue mar ke ham jo rusavaa, hue kyun na gharq-e-darayaa na kabhi janaazaa uthataa, na kahi mazaar hotaa use kaun dekh sakataa ke, yagaana he vo yakataa jo doi ki bu bhi hoti, to kahi dochaar hotaa ye masaa-el-e-tasavvuf, ye teraa bean, gaalib tujhe ham vaali samajhate, jo na baadah khaar hotaa (Report) Reply 8 person liked. 0 person did not like. * Sunprincess * (12/6/2013 2: 59: 00 PM) These problems of mysticism! this discourse of yours, Ghalib! We would consider you a saint- if you weren't a wine-drinker.
ye naa thi hamaari qismat ke visaal-e-yaar hotaa agar aur jite rahate, yahi itazaar hotaa tere vaade par jiye ham, to ye jaan jhuth jaanaa ke khushi se mar na jaate, agar etabaar hotaa teri naazuki se jaanaa ke badhaa thaa ahad buda kabhi tu na tod sakataa, agar usatavaar hotaa koi mere dil se puchhe, tere tir-e-nim kash ko ye khalish kahaan se hoti, jo jigar ke paar hotaa ye kahaan ki dosti hai ke bane hai dost naaseh koi chaaraa saaz hotaa, koi gam gusaar hotaa rag-e-sag se tapakataa, vo lahu ke phir na thamataa jise gam samajh rahe ho, ye agar sharaar hotaa gam agar-che jaan gusal hai, par kahaan bachai ke dil hai gam-e-ishq gar na hotaa, gam-e-rozagaar hotaa kahun kis se mai ke kiyaa hai, shab-e-gam buri balaa hai mujhe kiyaa buraa thaa maran agar aik baar hotaa hue mar ke ham jo rusavaa, hue kyun na gharq-e-darayaa na kabhi janaazaa uthataa, na kahi mazaar hotaa use kaun dekh sakataa ke, yagaana he vo yakataa jo doi ki bu bhi hoti, to kahi dochaar hotaa ye masaa-el-e-tasavvuf, ye teraa bean, gaalib tujhe ham vaali samajhate, jo na baadah khaar hotaa
These problems of mysticism! this discourse of yours, Ghalib! We would consider you a saint- if you weren't a wine-drinker.