Ghazal 190, Verse 10

Nazm:

That is, my warm/hot gaze has lit a fire in the garden; but we do not learn anything of why the gaze is warm/hot. (214)

Bekhud Dihlavi:

He says, oh Asad, when in separation from the beloved I've gone for a stroll in the garden, in my body a fire has started, and on seeing the flowers such a flame has shot out of my eyes that the dried grass and woodchips of the garden have become a light-show. (273)

Bekhud Mohani:

As Insha says,

mire bhaave;N gulshan me;N aatish lagii hai
na:zar kyaa pa;Re ;xaak gulhaa-e tar par

[with regard to my presence, fire has started in the garden
my gaze had hardly fallen, alas, on the moist roses] (374)

FWP:

SETS == WORDPLAY
FLAME/STRAW: {21,5}

Just look at the complexities we'll have to choose among, in order to put this verse together! The whole first line demands to be considered almost literally word by word:

First, nigah (shortened from nigaah for metrical reasons) can refer to either a single 'look' or 'glance', or a steady continued 'gaze' or 'watching'; or it can mean 'care' or 'attention'.

Second, garm has a wide range of meanings, ranging from the mild ('lively', 'brisk') through the emotional ('ardent', 'excited'), to the dangerous ('fiery', 'virulent').

Third, consider that little word ik (short of course for ek ) that appears so centrally in the first line, and emerges at such an emphatic point in the meter. If we take it to mean 'single', then it's elegantly counterpoised to the Persian plural chiraa;Gaa;N in the next line. If we take it to mean 'preeminent' or 'excellent', that too works well with its powers as described in the second line. And if we take it to mean 'unique' or 'singular', then we are well prepared for its behavior in the very next word, as it 'drips'.

Fourth, of course is that 'dripping' of the fire. As a rule, 'dripping' is a highly unlikely thing for a flame to do: flames go up and drips go down; flames shoot out in tongues and drips shape themselves into little spheres; flames pop and crackle, drips merely go 'plop'. Then, of course, fire will roast you, drips will drown you-- is that a difference (in means), or a similarity (in ends)? What in the world does it mean for fire to 'drip'? Fire is not the oddest of Ghalib's dripping things, however: remember there's also the 'to be a desert' that 'drips' in {17,2}.

In the second line, what strikes us is an astonishing conversion. Something maximally trashy and rubbishy has been made into something maximally elegant and sophisticated; something merely crudely inflammable has been made into not one but many spectacular flames; something that's natural and a mere byproduct has been made into something that's artificial and an elaborate product of artistic skill. And of course we discover the whole array of fire wordplay: 'hot/warm', 'fire', 'light-show', and the kindling: 'dried-grass-and-woodchips'.

Then, all these effects are created 'through me' or 'from me' or 'by means of me' [mujh se]. Which opens up, once again, various choices. The rich patron who sponsors a theatrical show can quite well say, 'the show is put on by me'. The choreographer can make the same claim; so too can the dancers. In the case of the creation of this light-show, we'll have to decide for ourselves how closely involved the speaker might be, and what his role might be-- is he merely commanding the show, or is he spinning it out of his own burning heart's blood? Is he doing it effortlessly, or even involuntarily, with a single glance (as in {5,4}), or is he doing it carefully over time, with 'watchfulness'? And of course we'll also have to decide what his mood might be, whether 'lively', 'ardent', or 'virulent'. As so often, Ghalib gives us a set of building blocks and then goads or charms us into creating the verse-- or rather, many permutations of the verse-- for ourselves.

For another meditation on ;xas-o-;xaashaak and fire, see {210,5}.