Aye dil-e-nadaan tujhe hua kya hai,
Mirza Ghalib sahab, one of my best friends since days of yore, was in a rather pensive mood. On regular days he was quite spirited and regaled all his friends with his now legendary shaayaris and anecdotes, but on that particular day, he seemed to be down and out. His couplets too had a mournful feel about them. Even as I sauntered inside his rundown haveli in Ballimaran in Old Delhi, he mumbled another doleful composition:
This couplet, when translated in English, comes to:
Oh, this sounded grave. Why such pessimism, I wondered. No doubt, Ghalib Sahab had a huge collection of beautifully crafted verses, and he could weave words to fit any situation, but why these cynicism laced shaayaris today? I looked at his dejected frame and could not resist asking –
My concerned remark seemingly touched a chord somewhere and Mirza Saheb looked at me solemnly. There was a forlorn look in his eyes as he sat on his charpoy, looking at me, probably expecting me to coax him into sharing whatever it was that had him all distraught. I crossed over to sit beside him on his charpoy, and asked again:
Mirza Ghalib sahab, as we all know, is a master poet, so I was sure that my dimwitted attempt at beating him at his own game, with badly rhymed couplets would lighten his mood and would cheer him up. And it looked as if my game plan was bearing fruit. Mirza Sahab now had an amused smile look on his face, with a naughty smile playing on his lips.
‘Sohrab, I dont want the stars from the skies, no gold, silver or diamonds bright. It’s luscious mangoes that I want real bad, so please hurry up and take me to Malihaabad.’ Mirza sahab said that all in a flow! Oh! So this was the reason behind Mirza Sahab’s disillusioned state of mind – the begum had banned his favourite fruit, mangoes! In hushed tones, Ghalib sahab explained how the begum, getting wary of his regular sickness owing to overeating of mangoes had banned the fruit from the household. It’s been a week since he had tasted any mango and now his craving for the the king of fruits was getting better of him – making him all nostalgic and wistful.
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| Malihabadi Mangoes |
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| Inviting Indeed! |
Saying so, I headed out to ask the gaadiwan to get my Skoda Yeti spruced for the ride, and within an hour we were on our way, headed towards Malihabad to satiate Ghalib’s Sahab’s craving for Malihabadi mangoes. Since it was really hot day with the ruthless sun glaring down at earth with all its ferociousness, we rolled up the car windows, and lo and behold, within seconds the interior of our car turned into a hilly meadow! Wow! The flowery perfume wafting from the air freshener vent and the full blast air conditioning of the car had turned the interiors into a valley of flowers! What bliss it was to sit there and watch the scorching world pass by on the other side of the car window.
Ghalib Sahab too seemed to be faring better now, for colour had returned on his cheeks and he looked much at ease, looking out of the window, lost in thought. It was time to nudge him back to the present, and enjoy his literary delights – his shayaaris and poems – so I gently asked him if he was feeling better now, now that we were on our way to Malihabad. The trick was to again use some lame shaayaris, so that he turns around with the some superlative renderings from his collection. So I ventured thus:
This sub-standard poetic provocation was enough to get Ghalib Sahab in the mood. He turned around and looking at me with a warm eyes, started thanking me for the effort I had put in to make his wish my order. ‘I am blessed to have friends who are ever ready to support my whims and fancies, my rational and irrational demands and my lofty desires,’ he said in a voice loud and clear. And then came out the words that were to become one of the most quoted in the shaayari circles around the world :
And with this gem of a verse, there started a five hour long session of profound renditions from Ghalib Saahab. There was not just rendition of deeply meaningful shaayaris encapsulating varied emotions, thoughts and situations, but also enlightening conversations about Ghalib Sahab’s growing up years.
By the time we reached Malihabad, I almost regretted that the journey was over. A perfect road trip it had been, with one of my best friends, who I know knew even better. It was late afternoon, just the time to hit my other friend, Akbar Malihabadi’s sprawling mango orchard, that housed over 500 varieties of mango trees, all bearing fruit. Ghalib Sahab looked all excited with the detail, all set to taste and devour every single variety! And here’s what he wrote to express his joy!
And this in simple words means let something in praise of mangoes be expressed joyously – praise for mangoes, the king of fruits! Now this was a perfect culmination to a day that had started on a sombre note!
4 comments
Too much!! This is just amazing…such imagination…I am so envious!
Thanks Sangeeta. Glad you have appreciated the madness that pushed this post. 🙂
Simply loved the post…amazingly written. Ghalib is surely epitome of urdu, ghazals and shairs to majority of people !! Glad I visited..
Correct is
DILL-E-NAADAAN TUJHY HOA KIA HY
(دلِ ناداں تجھے ہوا کیا ہے)