یہ نہ تھی ہماری قسمت Ye Na Thi Hamari Qismat — It Was Never In Our Fate

Mirza Ghalib

1797– 1869

Ghazal

Ghalib is doing arithmetic on a life that did not happen. Meeting her was never in his luck, he says, and then adds something a good deal worse than a complaint: had he gone on living longer, it would have been this same waiting and nothing else. More life would only have produced more of exactly this, which removes the consolation people normally reach for before anybody has had the chance to offer it.

Everything after it is supposed rather than reported. If the vow had been tied more tightly. If the arrow had gone clean through. If the grief had not been love's, it would have been the grief of earning a living. Eleven couplets ahead, each one supposing something different, and not one of them supposing anything good.

01 — ye na thi hamari qismat ki visal-e-yar hota Matla · the opening

یہ نہ تھی ہماری قسمت کہ وصال یار ہوتا
اگر اور جیتے رہتے یہی انتظار ہوتا

ये न थी हमारी क़िस्मत कि विसाल-ए-यार होता
अगर और जीते रहते यही इंतिज़ार होता

ye na thi hamari qismat ki visal-e-yar hota
agar aur jiite rahte yahi intizar hota

It was never in my luck that I should meet her. Had I gone on living, it would have been this same waiting and nothing else.

The first line is ordinary enough. The second takes away the comfort. Usually a person tells himself that with more time things might have turned. Ghalib works it out and reports that more time would simply have produced more waiting. He closes the exit before anyone can reach for it.

وصالِ یار visal-e-yar: union with the beloved
انتظار intizar: waiting

02 — tire vaade par jiye ham to ye jaan jhuut jaana

ترے وعدے پر جیے ہم تو یہ جان جھوٹ جانا
کہ خوشی سے مر نہ جاتے اگر اعتبار ہوتا

तिरे वा'दे पर जिए हम तो ये जान झूट जाना
कि ख़ुशी से मर न जाते अगर ए'तिबार होता

tire vaade par jiye ham to ye jaan jhuut jaana
ki khushi se mar na jaate agar etibar hota

If you think I lived on the strength of your promise, know that for a lie — had I believed it, I would have died of the joy.

A compliment and an accusation folded together so tightly they cannot be separated. Believing her would have killed him outright, so his survival is proof that he never believed her. He has turned his own continued existence into evidence against her.

وعدہ vaada: a promise
اعتبار etibar: trust, belief

03 — tiri nazuki se jaana ki bandha tha ahd boda

تری نازکی سے جانا کہ بندھا تھا عہد بودا
کبھی تو نہ توڑ سکتا اگر استوار ہوتا

तिरी नाज़ुकी से जाना कि बँधा था अहद बोदा
कभी तू न तोड़ सकता अगर उस्तुवार होता

tiri nazuki se jaana ki bandha tha ahd boda
kabhi tu na tod sakta agar ustuvar hota

Your delicacy told me the vow was weakly tied. You could never have broken it, had it been firmly made.

The reasoning is playful and completely damning. She is too fragile to break anything strong, so the fact that the promise broke proves it was never made properly in the first place. He convicts her by way of a compliment about how frail she is.

نازکی nazuki: delicacy, fineness
عہد ahd: a vow, a pledge
استوار ustuvar: firm, solidly made

04 — koi mere dil se puchhe tire tir-e-nim-kash ko

کوئی میرے دل سے پوچھے ترے تیر نیم کش کو
یہ خلش کہاں سے ہوتی جو جگر کے پار ہوتا

कोई मेरे दिल से पूछे तिरे तीर-ए-नीम-कश को
ये ख़लिश कहाँ से होती जो जिगर के पार होता

koi mere dil se puchhe tire tir-e-nim-kash ko
ye khalish kahan se hoti jo jigar ke paar hota

Let someone ask my heart about your half-drawn arrow. Where would this constant pricking have come from, had it gone clean through?

A half-drawn bow sends the arrow in far enough to lodge and not far enough to pass out the other side. He points out, almost technically, that a wound which killed him would at least have stopped hurting. The suffering is a consequence of her not committing to it.

تیرِ نیم کش tir-e-nim-kash: an arrow from a half-drawn bow
خلش khalish: a pricking, a persistent sting
جگر jigar: the liver — in this poetry, the seat of endurance

05 — ye kahan ki dosti hai ki bane hain dost naseh

یہ کہاں کی دوستی ہے کہ بنے ہیں دوست ناصح
کوئی چارہ ساز ہوتا کوئی غم گسار ہوتا

ये कहाँ की दोस्ती है कि बने हैं दोस्त नासेह
कोई चारासाज़ होता कोई ग़म-गुसार होता

ye kahan ki dosti hai ki bane hain dost naseh
koi charasaz hota koi gham-gusar hota

What sort of friendship is this, that my friends have turned into advisers? One might have been a healer, one might have offered some comfort.

Naseh, the adviser, is a standing figure in the ghazal, and he is never welcome. The complaint is precise: he did not want to be told what to do, he wanted somebody to sit with him. Everyone available has chosen the role that costs them least.

ناصح naseh: an adviser, one who counsels against
چارہ ساز charasaz: a healer, one who finds a remedy
غم گسار gham-gusar: one who shares another's grief

06 — rag-e-sang se Tapakta vo lahu ki phir na thamta

رگ سنگ سے ٹپکتا وہ لہو کہ پھر نہ تھمتا
جسے غم سمجھ رہے ہو یہ اگر شرار ہوتا

रग-ए-संग से टपकता वो लहू कि फिर न थमता
जिसे ग़म समझ रहे हो ये अगर शरार होता

rag-e-sang se Tapakta vo lahu ki phir na thamta
jise gham samajh rahe ho ye agar sharar hota

Blood would drip from the veins of stone and never stop, if what you take for grief were really a spark.

Strike a stone and you get a spark, and the old image has the spark hidden in the stone's veins like blood. He turns it round: if his grief were merely a spark, the stone would bleed out and be done. Grief is what is left when the spark has finished burning.

رگِ سنگ rag-e-sang: the vein of a stone
شرر sharar: a spark

07 — gham agarche jan-gusil hai pa kahan bachen ki dil hai

غم اگرچہ جاں گسل ہے پہ کہاں بچیں کہ دل ہے
غم عشق گر نہ ہوتا غم روزگار ہوتا

ग़म अगरचे जाँ-गुसिल है प कहाँ बचें कि दिल है
ग़म-ए-इश्क़ गर न होता ग़म-ए-रोज़गार होता

gham agarche jan-gusil hai pa kahan bachen ki dil hai
gham-e-ishq gar na hota gham-e-rozgar hota

Grief tears the soul apart, but where is one to escape to, since there is a heart? Had it not been the grief of love, it would have been the grief of earning a living.

The famous one, and the argument is harder than the sentiment it gets quoted for. He is not ranking love above work. He is saying that having a heart at all means carrying something, and the only variable is which weight you get. Ghalib spent much of his life pursuing a pension that never came through, so gham-e-rozgar is not a figure of speech here.

جاں گسل jan-gusil: soul-tearing
غمِ عشق gham-e-ishq: the grief of love
غمِ روزگار gham-e-rozgar: the grief of making a living

08 — kahun kis se main ki kya hai shab-e-gham buri bala hai

کہوں کس سے میں کہ کیا ہے شب غم بری بلا ہے
مجھے کیا برا تھا مرنا اگر ایک بار ہوتا

कहूँ किस से मैं कि क्या है शब-ए-ग़म बुरी बला है
मुझे क्या बुरा था मरना अगर एक बार होता

kahun kis se main ki kya hai shab-e-gham buri bala hai
mujhe kya bura tha marna agar ek baar hota

Who am I to tell what the night of grief is — a terrible affliction. What would have been so bad about dying, if it happened only once?

The point turns on a single word: baar, a time or occurrence. Dying once he could manage. What he objects to is that the night does it to him repeatedly, so he gets the experience without the release. The complaint is about the repetition, not the death.

شبِ غم shab-e-gham: the night of grief
بلا bala: an affliction, a calamity

09 — hue mar ke ham jo rusva hue kyuun na gharq-e-dariya

ہوئے مر کے ہم جو رسوا ہوئے کیوں نہ غرق دریا
نہ کبھی جنازہ اٹھتا نہ کہیں مزار ہوتا

हुए मर के हम जो रुस्वा हुए क्यूँ न ग़र्क़-ए-दरिया
न कभी जनाज़ा उठता न कहीं मज़ार होता

hue mar ke ham jo rusva hue kyuun na gharq-e-dariya
na kabhi janaza uthta na kahin mazar hota

Since I was disgraced by dying, why was I not drowned in a river instead? No funeral would have been carried, and there would have been no grave anywhere.

He has a problem, since his death exposed him, and he works out the solution with complete composure. Drowning leaves no body, so no procession and no tomb, and therefore no site where people can gather and discuss him. It is the calmest couplet in the poem and by some distance the bleakest.

رسوا rusva: disgraced, exposed
غرقِ دریا gharq-e-dariya: drowned in a river
جنازہ janaza: a funeral procession, a bier
مزار mazar: a tomb, a shrine

10 — use kaun dekh sakta ki yagana hai vo yakta

اسے کون دیکھ سکتا کہ یگانہ ہے وہ یکتا
جو دوئی کی بو بھی ہوتی تو کہیں دو چار ہوتا

उसे कौन देख सकता कि यगाना है वो यकता
जो दुई की बू भी होती तो कहीं दो-चार होता

use kaun dekh sakta ki yagana hai vo yakta
jo dui ki bu bhi hoti to kahin do-char hota

Who could ever see Him, who is unique and alone? Had there been even a trace of duality, He would have been met with somewhere.

Seeing requires two, one to look and one to be looked at. He follows that through: a God who is genuinely one leaves no room for a second party, so being seen is not something He is withholding, it is something the arrangement rules out. The failure is structural, and it is meant to console.

یگانہ yagana: unique, without a second
یکتا yakta: single, alone
دوئی dui: duality, twoness

11 — ye masail-e-tasavvuf ye tira bayan ghalib Maqta · signed by the poet

یہ مسائل تصوف یہ ترا بیان غالبؔ
تجھے ہم ولی سمجھتے جو نہ بادہ خوار ہوتا

ये मसाईल-ए-तसव्वुफ़ ये तिरा बयान 'ग़ालिब'
तुझे हम वली समझते जो न बादा-ख़्वार होता

ye masail-e-tasavvuf ye tira bayan ghalib
tujhe ham vali samajhte jo na bada-khvar hota

These fine points of mysticism, Ghalib, and this way you have of setting them out — we would have taken you for a saint, if only you were not a drinker.

He hands the objection to somebody else and then agrees with it, which lets him repeat the compliment without appearing to make it. And the sentence concedes what it pretends to withhold. The mysticism was good enough to have worked. Only the drinking got in the way.

مسائلِ تصوف masail-e-tasavvuf: the problems and fine points of mysticism
ولی vali: a saint, a friend of God
بادہ خوار bada-khvar: a wine-drinker

Reading it whole

The poem runs the same experiment eleven times. Change the conditions and nothing changes: a properly tied vow, a cleanly shot arrow, a longer life, an earlier death. Every one of them is entertained seriously, and every one of them leads back to the same place. Whatever he changes, he still ends up where he started. No version of this life turns out all right.

The line people send each other on a bad week is the seventh. Had it not been the grief of love, it would have been the grief of earning a living. Gham-e-ishq and gham-e-rozgar, lined up like two equal weights. The argument underneath is sturdier than the line sounds: a heart is going to carry one of them no matter what, and the only choice is which. Ghalib chased a pension across decades and never received it. The line was never abstract for him.

Two couplets later the grief turns into logistics. The trouble with dying, as he discovered, is that it left a body behind, and a body means a funeral, and a funeral means people standing around saying things about him. A river would have fixed all of it at once. He proposes it without any heat in the voice, and that composure is the terrible part.

Then the last couplet hands the compliment to the room. All these fine points of mysticism, Ghalib, and this way you have of setting them out, we would have taken you for a saint if only you were not a drinker. He lets the room say it, agrees with it in full, and never once claims it for himself. The drinking is admitted freely, and that single admission lets everything else go through unexamined. He walks away from his own compliment.

Begum Akhtar's is the reading this ghazal is usually remembered by. Habib Wali Mohammad's is quieter and closer to speech, and gives the couplets room instead of ornament.

How it rhymes

Every second line closes on the same word — ہوتا , hota. That repetition is the radif. The rhyme falling just before it is the qafiya: The -ar sound just before the refrain: yar, intizar, etibar, ustuvar, paar, gham-gusar, sharar, rozgar, baar, do-char, bada-khvar. Hearing the two land together at the close of every sher is most of what makes this form sound the way it does.

Recordings

Begum Akhtar

The reading this ghazal is usually remembered by, in the traditional manner.
Habib Wali Mohammad

Quieter and closer to speech, with the couplets given room rather than ornament.

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 couplet on the grief of love and the grief of earning a living circulates far beyond the poem.

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.