Ghazal 10, Verse 12

{10,12}*

na:zar me;N hai hamaarii jaadah-e raah-e fanaa ;Gaalib
kih yih shiiraazah hai ((aalam ke ajzaa-e pareshaa;N kaa

1) in our sight/gaze is the path of the road of oblivion, Ghalib
2) for this is the stitched-binding of the scattered parts/signatures of the world

Notes:

shiiraazah : 'The stitching of the back of a book'. (Platts p.740)

juz [plural ajzaa]: 'Part, portion; particle; component part, ingredient; part or section of a book (consisting of eight leaves)'. (Platts p.381)

pareshaaa;N : 'Dispersed, scattered; disordered, confused; dishevelled, tossed (as hair); amazed, distracted, perplexed, bewildered, deranged; troubled, distressed, wretched; ruined'. (Platts p.259)

Nazm:

That is, the thread of oblivion with which all the pages of the world are sewn together-- I have not forgotten it. That is, oblivion is always before my eyes. (12)

Baqir:

The meaning is that all the things in the world, no matter how incommensurate and opposed they may be, become one in oblivion. It's as if all the pages of the world were sewn on the thread of oblivion. (38)

Josh:

Between 'path' and 'road', one word is unnecessary. Nothing else but a 'path' is called a 'road'. (63)

Arshi:

Compare {18,2}. (183)

FWP:

GAZE verses: {3,12x}; {6,13x}; {10,12}; {13,3}; {15,3}; {16,6x}; {16,8x}; {17,4}; {17,5}; {21,4}; {21,9}; {24,2}; {27,7}; {33,6}; {40,4x}; {41,5}*; {44,1}; {45,4}; {45,5}; {45,6x}; {48,9}; {48,10}; {56,4}; {57,5}; {58,1}; {58,5}; {58,8}; {60}; {61,2}; {62,3}; {64,4}; {68,6x}; {123,4}
ROAD verses: {10,12}; {11,3x}; {45,7x}; {48,8}: {60,8}; {60,9}; {64,3}; {67,4x}
WRITING: {7,3}

BOOK VERSES: In bookbinding, the shiiraazah is the string that penetrates all the signatures ( ajzaa , sing. juz ) and stitches them together. The pages of the world are pareshaa;N both literally and in all the extended meanings. For more examples of the use of shiiraazah and related book-binding terminology see {18,2}; {18,5}; {42,10x}; {190,2}. See also the literal 'thread of the glance' [taar-e na:zar] in {171,1} and {190,2}. Then there's also the very literal use of the 'thread of a breath' in {173,9}.

In Ghalib's lexicon, the word jaadah seems always to signal a high order of abstraction; for more examples, see {9,4}. The whole phrase jaadah-e raah-e fanaa recurs in {92,3}.

We can read 'in our sight/gaze' in two ways. First, we can take it to mean most conventionally 'in our view'-- that is, in the view before us, that our eyes now see: what we see before us is the path of the road of oblivion.

Second, and far more excitingly, we can take it as literally locative-- the path of the road of oblivion is actually located 'in' our gaze. Our gaze itself is linear: its trajectory constitutes the (doubly long and linear, string-like) 'path of the road' leading to oblivion. Our long straight gaze becomes the binding-string that collects all the disparate sights it sees, and orders and unites them with the sure knowledge of their common destiny, the Sufistic fate of oblivion.

Is this not a verse to die for? Serene, calm, unflinching. Provocative and evocative. In some sense it feels endless.