ہزاروں خواہشیں ایسی Hazaron Khwahishen Aisi — Thousands Of Desires Like These

Mirza Ghalib

1797– 1869

Ghazal

Ghalib spent his life in a Delhi that was being dismantled around him, attached to a Mughal court that could not pay him and then stopped existing. He wanted a great deal more than he was ever going to get, and he knew it. This is the poem where he says so without once asking anybody to feel sorry for him.

It opens on the most quoted line he ever wrote and complicates it immediately. A thousand desires, every one of them worth dying for. Plenty of them granted. Still nowhere near enough. What follows is a man taking honest stock of his own appetite, in a tone sitting somewhere between confession and boast. Nine couplets ahead, and every one of them ends on the same verb, which you will hear nine times before the poem is done.

01 — hazaron khvahishen aisi ki har khvahish pe dam nikle Matla · the opening

ہزاروں خواہشیں ایسی کہ ہر خواہش پہ دم نکلے
بہت نکلے مرے ارمان لیکن پھر بھی کم نکلے

हज़ारों ख़्वाहिशें ऐसी कि हर ख़्वाहिश पे दम निकले
बहुत निकले मिरे अरमान लेकिन फिर भी कम निकले

hazaron khvahishen aisi ki har khvahish pe dam nikle
bahut nikle mire arman lekin phir bhi kam nikle

A thousand desires, each one worth dying for. Many of my longings were granted — and still there were too few.

The refrain changes meaning between the two lines. In the first, dam nikle is the breath leaving the body: dying. In the second, nikle simply means came out, that is, were fulfilled. So the couplet says both that every wish could kill him and that plenty of them came true anyway. The complaint is not that he was refused, but that being granted things did not help.

خواہش khvahish: a desire, a wish
دم نکلنا dam nikalna: for the breath to leave — to die
ارمان arman: longing, a cherished wish

02 — dare kyuun mera qatil kya rahega us ki gardan par

ڈرے کیوں میرا قاتل کیا رہے گا اس کی گردن پر
وہ خوں جو چشم تر سے عمر بھر یوں دم بدم نکلے

डरे क्यूँ मेरा क़ातिल क्या रहेगा उस की गर्दन पर
वो ख़ूँ जो चश्म-ए-तर से उम्र भर यूँ दम-ब-दम निकले

dare kyuun mera qatil kya rahega us ki gardan par
vo khuun jo chashm-e-tar se umr bhar yuun dam-ba-dam nikle

Why should my killer be afraid? Nothing will be laid at his door for the blood that has poured from my wet eyes, drop after drop, all my life.

Blood on the neck is the old way of saying responsibility for a killing. Ghalib argues that his murderer is safe on a technicality: the blood already left him, slowly, through his eyes, over years, so there is none left to account for. He has been bleeding to death so gradually that nobody can be charged with it.

قاتل qatil: killer
چشمِ تر chashm-e-tar: a wet eye
دم بہ دم dam-ba-dam: moment by moment, continually

03 — nikalna khuld se aadam ka sunte aae hain lekin

نکلنا خلد سے آدم کا سنتے آئے ہیں لیکن
بہت بے آبرو ہو کر ترے کوچے سے ہم نکلے

निकलना ख़ुल्द से आदम का सुनते आए हैं लेकिन
बहुत बे-आबरू हो कर तिरे कूचे से हम निकले

nikalna khuld se aadam ka sunte aae hain lekin
bahut be-abru ho kar tire kuche se ham nikle

We have all heard how Adam was put out of paradise. But I left your street in far worse disgrace than that.

He reaches for the biggest expulsion anyone knows and then says his was more shameful. There is no piety in it and no blasphemy either. It is a straight comparison, and he loses it gladly. Be-abru means stripped of honour, with the face gone.

خلد khuld: paradise
بے آبرو be-abru: disgraced, stripped of honour
کوچہ kucha: a lane, a street

04 — bharam khul jaae zalim tere qamat ki darazi ka

بھرم کھل جائے ظالم تیرے قامت کی درازی کا
اگر اس طرۂ پر پیچ و خم کا پیچ و خم نکلے

भरम खुल जाए ज़ालिम तेरे क़ामत की दराज़ी का
अगर इस तुर्रा-ए-पुर-पेच-ओ-ख़म का पेच-ओ-ख़म निकले

bharam khul jaae zalim tere qamat ki darazi ka
agar is turra-e-pur-pech-o-kham ka pech-o-kham nikle

The illusion of your great height would be exposed, cruel one, if those twisting curls were ever let out straight.

A joke about how much of beauty is arrangement. Her hair is piled and coiled. Uncoiled it would be longer than she is, and the stature everyone admires would turn out to be partly hairdressing. Bharam is the same word for illusion that runs through his other ghazals: the appearance a thing keeps up.

بھرم bharam: an illusion, an appearance kept up
قامت qamat: stature, height
پیچ و خم pech-o-kham: twists and curves

05 — magar likhvae koi us ko khat to ham se likhvae

مگر لکھوائے کوئی اس کو خط تو ہم سے لکھوائے
ہوئی صبح اور گھر سے کان پر رکھ کر قلم نکلے

मगर लिखवाए कोई उस को ख़त तो हम से लिखवाए
हुई सुब्ह और घर से कान पर रख कर क़लम निकले

magar likhvae koi us ko khat to ham se likhvae
hui subh aur ghar se kaan par rakh kar qalam nikle

If anyone needs a letter written to her, let them get me to write it. Morning came, and I was out of the house with the pen behind my ear.

He is touting for work as the man who writes other men's love letters to the woman he wants. The detail that finishes it is the pen already behind the ear at dawn. He is not resigned to the job, he is early for it.

خط khat: a letter
قلم qalam: a pen

06 — hui is daur men mansub mujh se bada-ashami

ہوئی اس دور میں منسوب مجھ سے بادہ آشامی
پھر آیا وہ زمانہ جو جہاں میں جام جم نکلے

हुई इस दौर में मंसूब मुझ से बादा-आशामी
फिर आया वो ज़माना जो जहाँ में जाम-ए-जम निकले

hui is daur men mansub mujh se bada-ashami
phir aaya vo zamana jo jahan men jam-e-jam nikle

In this age, heavy drinking got attributed to me. So that time has come round again, when the cup of Jamshed appears in the world.

The cup of Jamshed is the legendary vessel that showed you everything in the world. Ghalib takes a piece of gossip about his drinking and inflates it into an era: if people are talking about the cup again, the golden age must be back. Mansub means formally attributed, which is the language of an accusation.

منسوب mansub: attributed, ascribed to someone
بادہ آشامی bada-ashami: wine-drinking
جامِ جم jam-e-jam: the cup of Jamshed, which showed the whole world

07 — hui jin se tavaqqo khastagi ki daad paane ki

ہوئی جن سے توقع خستگی کی داد پانے کی
وہ ہم سے بھی زیادہ خستۂ تیغ ستم نکلے

हुई जिन से तवक़्क़ो' ख़स्तगी की दाद पाने की
वो हम से भी ज़ियादा ख़स्ता-ए-तेग़-ए-सितम निकले

hui jin se tavaqqo khastagi ki daad paane ki
vo ham se bhi ziyada khasta-e-tegh-e-sitam nikle

The people I expected to appreciate how broken I was turned out to be cut about by the same cruel blade far worse than me.

He went looking for sympathy from fellow sufferers and found they out-suffered him. Daad is the recognition you are owed. He wanted his wounds acknowledged and got shown bigger ones instead. Nobody in this couplet is unkind. There is just nobody left with attention to spare.

توقع tavaqqo: expectation
خستگی khastagi: brokenness, being worn out
داد daad: due praise, recognition
تیغِ ستم tegh-e-sitam: the sword of cruelty

08 — mohabbat men nahin hai farq jiine aur marne ka

محبت میں نہیں ہے فرق جینے اور مرنے کا
اسی کو دیکھ کر جیتے ہیں جس کافر پہ دم نکلے

मोहब्बत में नहीं है फ़र्क़ जीने और मरने का
उसी को देख कर जीते हैं जिस काफ़िर पे दम निकले

mohabbat men nahin hai farq jiine aur marne ka
usi ko dekh kar jiite hain jis kafir pe dam nikle

In love there is no difference between living and dying. We stay alive by looking at the very one we would die for.

Take the two lines together and they close like a trap. If the sight of her is what keeps him breathing, and the sight of her is also what stops his breath, then the two states have collapsed into each other. Kafir, infidel, is standard for the beloved who refuses to be moved, and it keeps the religious weight without meaning anything religious.

کافر kafir: an unbeliever; a standard name for the unmoved beloved

09 — kahan mai-khane ka darvaza ghalib aur kahan vaaiz Maqta · signed by the poet

کہاں مے خانہ کا دروازہ غالبؔ اور کہاں واعظ
پر اتنا جانتے ہیں کل وہ جاتا تھا کہ ہم نکلے

कहाँ मय-ख़ाने का दरवाज़ा 'ग़ालिब' और कहाँ वाइ'ज़
पर इतना जानते हैं कल वो जाता था कि हम निकले

kahan mai-khane ka darvaza ghalib aur kahan vaaiz
par itna jante hain kal vo jaata tha ki ham nikle

What has the door of the tavern to do with the preacher, Ghalib? Only this much I know — yesterday he was on his way in as I was coming out.

He sets up the gap between the two men as if it were obvious and unbridgeable, then closes it with an observation he pretends is incidental. The refrain delivers the punchline. Nikle one last time, and it is Ghalib walking out of the bar, sober enough to notice who was walking in.

مے خانہ mai-khana: a tavern, a wine house
واعظ vaaiz: a preacher

Reading it whole

The emotion at the centre of this is stranger and less comfortable than disappointment. It is what you feel when the thing you asked for arrives and nothing settles. Ghalib says outright that many of his longings were granted, and puts that in the same breath as the complaint. The world did not fail him. The wanting simply did not know when it was full.

He is very funny about this, which is what keeps the poem clear of self-pity. He compares his own expulsion from a woman's street with Adam's from paradise, and comes out worse. He offers, at dawn, pen already behind his ear, to write anybody's love letters for them, including letters to the person he wants himself. The eagerness is the terrible part.

Underneath the jokes runs something colder. The comfort he hoped for was never going to arrive, because the people he hoped would give it were worse off than him. That is the loneliest thing in the ghazal, because it takes away the last audience. Nobody is going to be impressed by his ruin. Everybody is carrying one.

Then he finishes on a shrug. What could the door of the tavern possibly have to do with the preacher? Nothing at all, he says, except that he happened to see the man on his way in yesterday, as he himself was coming out. Every second line of this ghazal ends on the same verb, nikalna, to come out, which in Urdu stretches to cover being fulfilled, being thrown out, turning out to be, escaping and dying, since the breath leaves the body too. He rings every change on it for nine couplets and then spends the last one on gossip.

Jagjit Singh's is the recording people mean when they say they know this ghazal. C. H. Atma also recorded it, and sings it as though none of the jokes are jokes.

How it rhymes

Every second line closes on the same word — نکلے , nikle. That repetition is the radif. The rhyme falling just before it is the qafiya: The -am sound just before the refrain: dam, kam, dam-ba-dam, ham, kham, qalam, jam, sitam. Hearing the two land together at the close of every sher is most of what makes this form sound the way it does.

Recordings

Jagjit Singh

From Gulzar's Mirza Ghalib series. This is how the ghazal reached people who do not otherwise read Ghalib.
C. H. Atma

An older, sparer reading, closer to the traditional ghazal manner.

Text and rights

Devanagari text supplied and checked by a reader who knows the language. The Urdu script and the transliteration follow that reading.

The opening couplet circulates far more widely than the rest of the poem, often on its own.

Ghalib died in 1869, so the poem itself is out of copyright everywhere. The translation, the reading of each couplet and the essay around them are original work written for Harf.