Hindustan Times ST (Mumbai)

Towards a common way forward

- Maaz Bin Bilal

“Chaltaa hun thodi duur har ik tez-rau ke saath / pehchaanta­a nahin hun abhi raahbar ko main.” (I go along some distance with every swift walker / I do not yet recognise the guide.)

— Mirza Ghalib

Anjum Altaf and Amir Basole’s Thinking with Ghalib uses this verse to assess the political leaders of the subcontine­nt and their ephemeral but passionate followings among the populace. The verse also offers insight into the ambition of this genredefyi­ng book. It is at once a selfhelp manual, a volume of literary criticism, a book on epistemolo­gy, an attempt at creating indigenous South-asian theory or socio-political philosophy, a book to promote critical thinking, and, dare I say, critical writing.

Altaf and Basole take upon themselves these numerous tasks. The first is to introduce Ghalib to a readership that may have left Urdu behind, unlike the generation of their parents or grandparen­ts. To do so, they forego the full ghazal poem, but focus on 30 shers or distiches (couplets), one in each chapter. They urge their reader to read one chapter a day so as to chew on the import of each verse. For, after all, as they quote from Pritchet, Ghalib’s each verse can be a “meaning machine”, and they give nine different interpreta­tions for the sher: “Na tha kuchh to Khuda tha kuchh na hota to Khuda hota / duboya mujh ko hone ne nah hota main to kya hota?” (When there was nothing, then God existed; / if nothing existed, then God would exist / ’Being’ drowned me; if I did not exist, then what would I be?)

Each verse is further used to ask critical questions about some fundamenta­l aspects of life: knowledge acquisitio­n, the nature of being as well as knowing, the political aspiration­s and leadership of South Asia, thinking beyond narrow confines of religion, and moving towards a humanist world view.

Using Ghalib for these purposes becomes a key marker of developing an indigenous criticalit­y as opposed to the usual idea of modernity as a Western product of the Enlightenm­ent, even as Ghalib was himself shaped in part by the influence of the British.

Still, the openness with which Ghalib approaches his subjects is sans dogma.

For example, the

Thinking with Ghalib: Poetry for a New Generation

Anjum Altaf and

Amit Basole

~395, Roli Books actual religion of a devotee does not matter to Ghalib: “Nahiin kuchh subbha-o-zunnar ke phanday mein giiraaii / vafaadaari­i mein shaykh-o-barhaman ki aazmaa’ish hai.” (There is no holding-power in the snare of prayer-beads and sacred thread / In faithfulne­ss is the test of the Shaykh and the Brahmin.) It is faithfulne­ss to one’s faith, be it any faith, that matters.

The powerful intentiona­l ambiguitie­s of Ghalib’s verses are exploited to the fullest by Altaf and Basole: “Raat din gardish mein hain saat aasmaan / ho rahega kuchh nah kuchh ghabraayen kya.” (Night and day the seven heavens are revolving / Something or other will end up happening — why should we be perturbed?) This sher is read both as a sign of fatalism and giving in to the will of God, but also a positive belief in change being the only constant. This is extended to South Asian politics as well.

Anjum Altaf is a Pakistani and Amit Basole is an Indian. Their coming together for this book over the greatest Southasian poet of the 19th century is perhaps a positive sign in itself. We, the people of South Asia, face similar problems — of corruption, sectariani­sm, communalis­m, poverty of matter and thought — and this book, which first began in 2008 as a collaborat­ion over two blogs run by the authors, signals a possible common way forward.

The book tends to get slightly repetitive towards the end, and could have used better, preferably poetic, translatio­ns of the Ghalib verses, although it does well to give the original in three scripts. While serious readers of Ghalib may wish to read more scholarly works, the purpose of this book is to introduce new readers to Ghalib. I missed an aesthetic appreciati­on of the beauty of the verses, but the book does realise its goals well enough.

For those looking to enter the world of Urdu poetry without learning Urdu, this is the perfect volume to start with, and in the process to start reflecting on our own state of affairs.

Maaz Bin Bilal’s translatio­n of Mirza Ghalib’s Chiragh-e-dair is forthcomin­g from Penguin

 ?? GETTY IMAGES ?? Mirza Ghalib's haveli in Chandni Chowk, New Delhi.
GETTY IMAGES Mirza Ghalib's haveli in Chandni Chowk, New Delhi.
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