نکتہ چیں ہے غمِ دل Nuktacheen Hai Gham-e-Dil — A Fault-Finder, So The Heart's Grief Goes Untold

Mirza Ghalib

1797– 1869

Ghazal

He has something to say and cannot say it, because the person he would say it to picks holes in everything. That is where the ghazal starts, and it is a very ordinary sort of misery. The words exist. The room is wrong for them.

From there it widens a long way out. A rival walks past carrying her letter in plain sight. A veil falls that nobody can lift. And at the end comes the most quoted thing Ghalib ever wrote about love, which is a great deal colder standing where it stands than it is on its own. Nine couplets ahead, one at a time.

01 — nukta-chin hai gham-e-dil us ko sunae na bane Matla · the opening

نکتہ چیں ہے غم دل اس کو سنائے نہ بنے
کیا بنے بات جہاں بات بنائے نہ بنے

नुक्ता-चीं है ग़म-ए-दिल उस को सुनाए न बने
क्या बने बात जहाँ बात बनाए न बने

nukta-chin hai gham-e-dil us ko sunae na bane
kya bane baat jahan baat banae na bane

She picks holes in everything, so the grief of my heart cannot be told to her. How is anything to be brought off, where speech itself will not come together?

Baat banana covers both making conversation work and bringing a matter off successfully, and the couplet uses both senses at once. He cannot get the words out, therefore nothing can be made to work. And the obstacle is her habit, not her absence. She is right there, finding fault.

نکتہ چیں nukta-chin: one who picks holes, a finder of faults
غمِ دل gham-e-dil: the grief of the heart
بات بننا baat banna: for a thing to come off, to work out

02 — main bulata to huun us ko magar ai jazba-e-dil

میں بلاتا تو ہوں اس کو مگر اے جذبۂ دل
اس پہ بن جائے کچھ ایسی کہ بن آئے نہ بنے

मैं बुलाता तो हूँ उस को मगर ऐ जज़्बा-ए-दिल
उस पे बन जाए कुछ ऐसी कि बिन आए न बने

main bulata to huun us ko magar ai jazba-e-dil
us pe ban jaae kuchh aisi ki bin aae na bane

I do call her — but O urge of my heart, let something come over her such that not coming becomes impossible for her.

Read what he is asking for. Not that she should want to come. That some circumstance should arise in which staying away is no longer available to her. He would rather be unavoidable than wanted, and he addresses the request to his own heart's impulse rather than to her, because she is not listening anyway.

جذبۂ دل jazba-e-dil: the heart's urge or impulse

03 — khel samjha hai kahin chhod na de bhuul na jaae

کھیل سمجھا ہے کہیں چھوڑ نہ دے بھول نہ جائے
کاش یوں بھی ہو کہ بن میرے ستائے نہ بنے

खेल समझा है कहीं छोड़ न दे भूल न जाए
काश यूँ भी हो कि बिन मेरे सताए न बने

khel samjha hai kahin chhod na de bhuul na jaae
kaash yuun bhi ho ki bin mere satae na bane

She has taken it for a game — she may drop it, she may forget. If only it were so that she could not manage without tormenting me.

The fear is not cruelty, it is losing interest, which is worse because it is not even directed at him. So he asks to be a habit she cannot break. Being someone's necessary torment is the smallest possible claim on another person, and he asks for it with his eyes open.

ستانا satana: to torment, to tease

04 — ghair phirta hai liye yuun tire khat ko ki agar

غیر پھرتا ہے لیے یوں ترے خط کو کہ اگر
کوئی پوچھے کہ یہ کیا ہے تو چھپائے نہ بنے

ग़ैर फिरता है लिए यूँ तिरे ख़त को कि अगर
कोई पूछे कि ये क्या है तो छुपाए न बने

ghair phirta hai liye yuun tire khat ko ki agar
koi puchhe ki ye kya hai to chhupae na bane

My rival goes about with your letter held so openly that if anyone asked him what it was, he could not manage to hide it.

The rival is not careless. He is carrying it that way so that somebody will ask, and the concealment he then fails at is itself a performance. Ghalib has watched the whole manoeuvre and understood it exactly, and that understanding is what hurts.

غیر ghair: the other man, the rival
خط khat: a letter

05 — is nazakat ka bura ho vo bhale hain to kya

اس نزاکت کا برا ہو وہ بھلے ہیں تو کیا
ہاتھ آویں تو انہیں ہاتھ لگائے نہ بنے

इस नज़ाकत का बुरा हो वो भले हैं तो क्या
हाथ आवें तो उन्हें हाथ लगाए न बने

is nazakat ka bura ho vo bhale hain to kya
haath aaven to unhen haath lagae na bane

Curse this fragility. What use is it that she is kind, when if she came into my hands I could not manage to lay a hand on her?

He has finally got what he asked for and it turns out to be unusable. She is willing, and she is also so delicate that touching her is out of the question. The frustration is real and slightly comic, and the couplet blames neither her kindness nor his nerve but the physics of the situation.

نزاکت nazakat: delicacy, fragility

06 — kah sake kaun ki ye jalvagari kis ki hai

کہہ سکے کون کہ یہ جلوہ گری کس کی ہے
پردہ چھوڑا ہے وہ اس نے کہ اٹھائے نہ بنے

कह सके कौन कि ये जल्वागरी किस की है
पर्दा छोड़ा है वो उस ने कि उठाए न बने

kah sake kaun ki ye jalvagari kis ki hai
parda chhoda hai vo us ne ki uthae na bane

Who could say whose splendour this is? A veil has been let fall that cannot be lifted.

The problem of a God who cannot be seen, put in nine words with no fuss made about it. Somebody let that veil fall, and yet the result is permanent. And the couplet sits between a joke about a rival and a joke about being too shy to touch anyone.

جلوہ گری jalvagari: the showing of splendour, a manifestation
پردہ parda: a veil, a curtain

07 — maut ki raah na dekhun ki bin aae na rahe

موت کی راہ نہ دیکھوں کہ بن آئے نہ رہے
تم کو چاہوں کہ نہ آؤ تو بلائے نہ بنے

मौत की राह न देखूँ कि बिन आए न रहे
तुम को चाहूँ कि न आओ तो बुलाए न बने

maut ki raah na dekhun ki bin aae na rahe
tum ko chahun ki na aao to bulae na bane

Am I not to watch the road for death, which will not stay away? Or long for you, who cannot even be summoned if you will not come?

He lines up the two things he waits for and finds they behave in opposite ways. Death comes without being asked and cannot be stopped. She does not come even when asked, and cannot be made to. Between them he has no move at all. The couplet exists to hold the two of them against each other.

08 — bojh vo sar se gira hai ki uthae na uthe

بوجھ وہ سر سے گرا ہے کہ اٹھائے نہ اٹھے
کام وہ آن پڑا ہے کہ بنائے نہ بنے

बोझ वो सर से गिरा है कि उठाए न उठे
काम वो आन पड़ा है कि बनाए न बने

bojh vo sar se gira hai ki uthae na uthe
kaam vo aan pada hai ki banae na bane

A weight has come off my head that cannot be lifted. A task has fallen to me that cannot be done.

Two impossible statements laid flat side by side, and the first is stranger than the second. A weight that has already fallen should not still need lifting, unless what fell was the ability to bear it. He does not explain. The refrain is doing all the work: twice in two lines, and both times it means cannot.

بوجھ bojh: a weight, a burden
آن پڑنا aan padna: to fall to somebody's lot without warning

09 — ishq par zor nahin hai ye vo atish ghalib Maqta · signed by the poet

عشق پر زور نہیں ہے یہ وہ آتش غالبؔ
کہ لگائے نہ لگے اور بجھائے نہ بنے

इश्क़ पर ज़ोर नहीं है ये वो आतिश 'ग़ालिब'
कि लगाए न लगे और बुझाए न बने

ishq par zor nahin hai ye vo atish ghalib
ki lagae na lage aur bujhae na bane

Love does not answer to force, Ghalib. It is that fire which will not catch when you light it, and will not be put out.

The couplet everyone knows, usually read as something warm about love being bigger than us. Put it back at the end of this ghazal and it turns cold. Eight couplets have just listed things that would not come together, and the fire is the last of them, a thing that fails both ways, refusing to start and refusing to stop.

زور zor: force, compulsion
آتش atish: fire
بجھانا bujhana: to put out a flame

Reading it whole

Underneath all nine couplets there is one feeling, and it is nearer to helplessness than to heartbreak. Nothing in this poem can be made to happen. The words will not come, the letter will not stay hidden, the veil will not lift, death will not keep its distance, and at the end love itself will not be lit or put out to order. He is not being refused by a person. He is being refused by the way things work.

Two couplets in the middle give away something he may not have meant to. He does not ask her to want to come; he asks that something happen to her so that not coming becomes impossible. He does not ask to be loved; he asks that she be unable to get through a day without tormenting him. Both are requests for compulsion rather than affection. He would rather be a necessity than a choice.

Then the sixth couplet walks away from all of it and asks who could say whose splendour this is, since the veil that has fallen cannot be raised. That is the problem of a hidden God, sitting in the middle of a poem about a woman not answering letters, and the tone does not change at all. Ghalib does this constantly. It is the reason his ghazals will not sort into love poems and religious poems.

The last couplet long ago outgrew the poem it came from. Love answers to no force; it is the fire that will not catch when you strike it and will not go out when you want it to. People quote it as a warm thing about love being beyond our control. Read where it actually sits, at the end of a long list of things that could not be brought off, it is much bleaker. The fire is the final item.

K. L. Saigal sang it in Yahudi Ki Ladki in 1933, which is where most of India first heard it. Suraiya put it back into wide circulation in the 1954 film Mirza Ghalib.

How it rhymes

Every second line closes on the same word — نہ بنے , na bane. That repetition is the radif. The rhyme falling just before it is the qafiya: The -ae sound just before the refrain: sunae, banae, aae, satae, chhupae, lagae, uthae, bulae, bujhae. Hearing the two land together at the close of every sher is most of what makes this form sound the way it does.

Recordings

K. L. Saigal

From Yahudi Ki Ladki, 1933. The first time most of India heard this ghazal.
Suraiya

From the 1954 film Mirza Ghalib, which put it back into wide circulation.

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 closing couplet on love as an uncontrollable fire circulates very widely 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.