Ghazal 116, Verse 8

Nazm:

The footprint showed me that in this way, mingled with the dust, and struck with amazement at the glory/appearance of beauty, is the way one ought to live in the beloved's street. (125-26)

Bekhud Dihlavi:

He says, I didn't remember the character/state of remaining in the beloved's street. The footprint taught me that one remains in the beloved's street by mingling with the dust and becoming struck with amazement at the glory/appearance of the beloved. (177)

Bekhud Mohani:

I didn't know the manner of remaining in the beloved's lane. But the amazement of the footprint showed me, 'the way I remain amazed, in the same way one ought to remain amazed'. (136)

FWP:

MIRROR: {8,3}

I translate rahnaa as 'remain', rather than 'live', because it's not clear how long he'll be allowed to stay in the beloved's street. But what can account for the odd rhetorical question in that first line? The speaker seems to be rejecting, perhaps even indignantly, someone's suggestion that he remembered how to remain in the beloved's street. Because he'd never been there before, and thus couldn't possibly remember it? Or because of his self-lessness, which rendered him oblivious (as in the previous verse, {116,7}) to all merely formal details? Or is he just generally emphasizing his cluelessness, his haplessness, his need for guidance?

In addition, what kind of thing is the style/character/state [va.z((a] that he doesn't remember? The term often suggests a kind of personal dignity or style that must be upheld at all costs; see the discussion of it in {115,7}. In that verse, paas-e va.z((a is something that prevents me from falling below a certain standard of dignity merely to meet the beloved on the street.

Here, va.z((a is something to be (re)learned afresh, with no preconceived notions, and it seems to have no (overt) connection with dignity. It is to be learned from the footprint. In the ghazal world the footprint, by virtue of its shape, resembles (and thus becomes) a mouth perpetually open in amazement; as Nazm and others also point out, the footprint lies flat in the dust, as humbly as it possibly can. In both these respects it presents a model for the lover, showing him the 'style' he must adopt. The footprint could very well be his own footprint: the very first step he takes into the beloved's street perhaps already teaches him the local protocol (or survival tactics).

It's easy to see why the footprint could be a 'mirror'-- by virtue of its shape, and also because the mirror too is often full of amazement (as in {63,1}). For more on the nature of ;hairat , see {51,9x}. But why is the footprint here a 'mirror-possessor' [aa))inah-daar], rather than simply a 'mirror'? At the very least, the vision of the footprint urgently and helpfully waving a mirror up at us is one well worth having. But surely there must be more to it than this? There must be something going on here, but I haven't managed to figure it out.

For another perspective on the footstep as model for behavior in the beloved's street, see {123,1).