FWP:
SETS == EXCLAMATION
The idiomatic ko))ii din aur is used most commonly to mean 'for a few days more', as in this verse and most of the others. But it can also mean 'some other day', as in {66,4} and {66,7}. The use of the nominative ko))ii rather than the oblique kuchh or kisii is the particularly idiomatic part of it. Other examples of this idiom, used in its most common 'for a few days more' sense: {62,9}, {160,1}, {179,4}.
This is the one ghazal in the whole muravvaj diivaan that is grist for the mill of the 'natural poetry' [necharal shaa((irii] school. Out of the 234 ghazals, this one alone can be linked directly and legitimately to a major event in Ghalib's own life. It's a lament for a beloved nephew-in-law who died young, probably of tuberculosis. As a lament, it 'works' because it has the power to move us: the sorrow in it comes through all too clearly. As Chishti points out, however, it's still a ghazal by Ghalib, and thus inevitably makes use of literary devices and provides literary pleasures. It's one of his simplest ghazals, technically speaking. But it's also unified and energized by a powerful human emotion that we all know.
Although it may seem an odd comparison, this one in its strong, consistent mood reminds me of {49}: that one is a 'wave of wine,' this one is a 'wave of grief'.
In this particular verse, the imagery of travelers setting out on a journey is emphasized by the verb used for 'wait': not inti:zaar karnaa but raastah dekhnaa , 'to watch the road'. Travelers are safer as well as happier if they make their journeys together. Ghalib, being older, is expressing a kind of pique: you should have waited for me; since you wouldn't, well-- you'll just have to go on alone, and it serves you right! But of course, the loneliness will be only for 'a few days more', he says, and promises to join Arif soon on the last great journey.
This is the only ghazal for which I'll speak of the protagonist not as 'the lover' but in a strong sense as 'Ghalib', since I think the poet himself wants to inhabit this poem, and is not invoking the usual persona. All the verses except {66,5} and {66,10} are vocative, addressed directly to Arif. In all of them he is tum , except for {66,2} where he becomes tuu .
This is the only whole ghazal of this intimate kind, but there's also another verse: {202,9}.
There's also {139}, which is a sort of false counterpart to this ghazal-- though it really doesn't resemble it much at all; for discussion see {139,1}.
And compare Mir's much chillier use of the imagery of extravagant grief in M{722,10}.
A personal note: Since this 'desertful of roses' is proving to be an all-purpose companion over the years, with room for some of my own thoughts and feelings, I want to record that on Aug. 29, 2009, on the sad occasion of a memorial service for my dear friend and colleague Aditya Behl, I recited, and then roughly translated, verses 3, 4, 7, and 5 (in that order). A gifted scholar, Aditya too had 'an extremely inventive and creative temperament', and he too died suddenly and unexpectedly and so painfully young (he was only 43). These verses expressed the bleak mood of mourning with such artistry, and such a power to move the heart, that they ended up almost feeling like a consolation.
Hali:
With Zain ul-Abidin Khan 'Arif' [zain ul-((aabidiin ;xaa;N ((aarif], Mirza Sahib had an extremely close relationship. Partly because of their kinship, and mostly because he had an extremely inventive and creative temperament, and despite his loquaciousness was an extremely fine speaker, Mirza cherished him beyond all limits. For this reason, when he died as a young man it was a heavy blow to Mirza and his wife. Mirza wrote a ghazal about his death, by way of a lament [nau;hah], which is extremely eloquent and pain-evoking.
==Urdu text: p. 37 in Hali, Yadgar-e Ghalib