Ghazal 123, Verse 2

Nazm:

That is, the heart desires me, and I desire the heart, {so that it is / which is} [kih] a captive of faithfulness. (131)

== Nazm page 131

Bekhud Dihlavi:

He says, I keep the heart absorbed in faithfulness, and the heart keeps me absorbed in faithfulness. We both want to keep each other captives of faithfulness. (185)

Bekhud Mohani:

That is, when I fall short in some way, then the heart encourages me; when the heart begins to feel a lack of courage [be-jigarii], then I say, 'you ought not to be like this'. (248)

FWP:

SETS == KYA
BONDAGE: {1,5}

The first line sets up a sentimental-sounding reciprocity of behavior between the speaker and his heart: each keeps the other on the strait and narrow path, 'absorbed in faithfulness'. A flat statement of fact, a closed universe, and a report of irreproachably lover-like behavior. All seems to be well.

Then when we come to the second line, the wonderful multivalence of kyaa (in its oblique form kis ) rips the verse wide open. Here are the classic three readings:

2a) What a relish we have for fellow-captivity! The heart and I do this together as a deliberate joint project, in order to encourage each other, and how we love it!

2b) To what extent do we really have a relish for fellow-captivity? If we weren't each patrolling and spying on the other all the time, would we perhaps both be tempted to sneak away for a break? Who knows? It's an open question, tempting to speculate about.

2c) As if we had any kind of relish for fellow-captivity! Can't you see that we live in a police state, where each of us must constantly inform on the other? If we weren't under such unrelenting scrutiny, and so sure of mutual betrayal, wouldn't we escape at once? Anybody would, and so would we!

After one reflects on the second line, things in the first line can never look the same. Revisiting it, we find that its first impression of bland, irreproachable innocence and contentment has been thoroughly undercut. It now looks thoroughly problematical-- and very possibly like a description of two prisoners in a cell, each informing on the other.

And yet of course the two prisoners are 'I' and my 'heart'. How different are they really? When the lover reproaches the heart, perhaps he's merely, at one metaphorical remove, reproaching himself. But perhaps his heart is wilful and headstrong and does what it pleases, so that it's a separate, uncontrollable moral agent (as in {31,2}). As so often, Ghalib leaves our minds to bounce around amidst the questions, with no answers available.