miir hu))e ho be-;xvud kab ke aap me;N bhii to ;Tuk aa))o
hai darvaaze par anboh ik raftah-e shauq tumhaaraa aaj

1) Mir, for how long you've been self-less-- just please even/also come to yourself a bit!
2) at the door is a single/particular/unique/excellent crowd, carried away by {your ardor / ardor for you}, today



anboh : 'Crowd, multitude, concourse, throng, mob; great quantity or abundance'. (Platts p.86)

S. R. Faruqi:

People like Salam Sandelvi will call this a verse of 'narcissism' [nargisiyat], but in truth this verse gives information about the [Sufistic] stage of 'oblivion of the individuality' [fanaa-e ;zaat]. The crowd of people at the door, and Mir's self-transcendence-- it's a verse of remarkably dramatic style. He has not mentioned why people are made so restless by Mir's ardor. Perhaps because Mir is a lover supreme among all lovers. Or perhaps because Mir is the only person who has passed through the level of self-lessness and 'renunciation of individuality'. (In such a situation, to tell him to come to his senses seems to nullify the thing on the basis of which people are ardent for him.) Or perhaps because Mir is a classically pure Sufi and an essentially beautiful-spirited lover. Or perhaps because Mir himself is absorbed in his own individuality, and from being entirely passion has become entirely a beloved.

It was fine to put raftah-e shauq . Because raftah can also mean 'self-less and insensible'. Thus the crowd that has come to see a self-less individual, is itself out of its senses. He's composed a fine one.

It's possible that this [Persian] verse of Baba Nasiri Gilani might have suggested the thought to Mir:

'The friends' hearts are all turned to blood: "May you not leave the gathering"!
A crowd has assembled on the street: "When will you leave the gathering?"'

To compose a verse from a verse is an accepted principle of our poetics. This was one form of taking advantage [of earlier poetry], and a special means for 'theme-creation'. In today's language, our classical poetry can be called a 'poetry of intertextuality' [bain ul-matuuniyat]. Sa'ib had acquired special skill in taking advantage of his contemporaries' verses. Kalim Hamadani was himself a notable 'theme-creator', but he wasn't ashamed to take such advantage himself. In'amullah Khan Yaqin tried to pull out separate themes for himself, but he couldn't help clutching the garment-hems of Mir and Shah Hatim. In the poetry of Mir Asar and Mir Dard there are astonishing examples. Atish, Nasikh, Ghalib, Rasikh-- they have all adopted themes of Mir's. If Taban took themes from Hatim, then Hatim took them from Sauda (although he was a pupil). This kind of mutual harmony is a crest-jewel of our poetry; we ought to be proud of it.

[See also {892,5}; {1185,1}.]



This ghazal is the first of a set of two about which SRF makes special claims for an over-all 'musical' effect; see {1589,1} for his discussion.

The only verses in it that I really like are {1589,6}, and (a bit less) the present verse. Some of the others seem quite commonplace. But then, that's just my taste, and/or my inability, as an outsider, to hear and feel what SRF hears and feels to be a special speed and 'musicality' in the whole ghazal as a unit. The next ghazal, {1590}, is another case study of the same kind.

He says of these two that 'both ghazals, in their entirety, had a claim to be selected'. I submit that this claim could only be based on the special holistic musicalness that he discerns in them; it certainly couldn't be based on the individual excellence of all (or even most) of the verses. In the case of the present ghazal, SRF's normal standards for SSA would not admit more than the four verses he has in fact chosen.

You, dear reader, could try reciting the whole ghazal rapidly and flowingly, and make up your own mind whether this special holistic quality can be distinguished from more general qualities (a long swingy meter, ravaanii , approachability, etc.).