Ghazal 72, Verse 6


dekh kar tujh ko chaman baskih numuu kartaa hai
;xvud bah ;xvud pahu;Nche hai gul goshah-e dastaar ke paas

1) having seen you, {to such an extent / since / although} the garden grows/flourishes
2) spontaneously the rose arrives at/near the angle/corner of the turban-sash


;xvud bah ;xvud : 'Of oneself; of himself (themselves, &c.), of one's own accord, voluntarily, freely; of itself, spontaneously, naturally'. (Platts p.495)


pahu;Nche hai is an archaic form of pahu;Nchtaa hai (GRAMMAR)


dastaar : 'A sash or fine muslin cloth wrapped round a turban'. (Platts p.516)


The cause of the flourishing is the enthusiasm of ardor. The author refrained from mentioning it because it can be assumed; that is, to see the beloved is not such a thing that anybody would see her and, having seen her, not generate the turmoil of ardor. (75)

== Nazm page 75

Bekhud Dihlavi:

He says, having seen you, the garden's vegetative power so increases that the flowers spontaneously advance up to your turban-cloth. The meaning is that from the sight of the beloved, turmoil is created in everyone's hearts. (121)


numuu karnaa is a literal translation of [the Persian] numuu kardan . In Urdu they say numuu paanaa , although this meaning is very much [more]. (158)



After seeing you, the garden grows so madly and outrageously tall that the rose vine, even without being trained to climb on a trellis, reaches up as high as a turban. (Remember that in Oklahoma, 'the corn is as high as an elephant's eye'?) The rose-vine, being part of the garden, does this 'naturally', in response to the sight of your beauty. Or perhaps it does so 'spontaneously' or impulsively-- for how could it resist the chance to twine around the beloved?

But it's also possible that the rose chooses to reach out deliberately, voluntarily, of its own accord--for;xvud bah ;xvud (see the definition above) can be read as distinguishing the rose's behavior from the general flourishingness of the garden. The rose doesn't just grow-- it deliberately reaches out and touches the edge of the turban-sash. (If we read baskih as 'although', then it too supports the idea of the rose's behavior not as merely the culmination of the garden's growth, but as something different, something unlike what the rest of the garden is doing. (This sense of baskih as 'although' is secondary, but it gives a certain edge to the verse, and it's definitely part of the penumbra of possibilities.)

On this reading, the rose is apparently endowed with will, and even perhaps with some kind of erotic intentions. Does it wish to be worn proudly on the beloved's turban? Does it wish to caress or stroke the beloved's head? Does it wish to sacrifice itself to adorn the beloved? Is it simply responding to the power of passion, with no will left at all? The mystery (but also the lovely appropriateness) of the rose's response to the beloved's beauty is more memorable when left unexplained than it would be if diluted by further information.

In the ghazal world, the beloved is always the primary source for light and life, with all the 'natural' world dependent upon borrowing or reflecting his/her glory. Here's one more example: not that the beloved is as radiant and fruitful as a garden, but that the garden is only so radiant and fruitful because of the beloved. Just as in {111,9}, where the nightingales only sing the way they do because they've heard the poet's ghazals!

This is another verse in which the beloved, with his elegantly adorned turban, is imagined as a beautiful youth; for more examples, see {9,2}.