Verse 21816aanikaltii hai


G9

In this meter the next-to-last long syllable may be replaced by two shorts.


1
from the compression/scattering of the narrowness of privacy, dew is created
2
when the morning-breeze, having gone into the pardah/veil of the bud, emerges

'Squeezing, pressing (with the hand); compression, constriction; --a scattering; diffusion (= )'.
'A scattering; diffusion; compression, constriction, squeezing; the piercing of one thing with another'. (Steingass p.930)

References
Arshi, Imtiyaz Ali Ghazal# 177
Raza, Kalidas Gupta 234
Nuskhah-e-Hamidiyah 272
Gyan Chand 394
Hamid Ali Khan Open Image

Alas, the commentators give the poet no credit for his brilliant, doubly-activated use of . It's the first word in the verse, and by no coincidence it has two meanings (see the definitions above) that are both opposite and apposite. It's perfectly plausible that drops of liquid would appear during a process of 'squeezing' or compressing something, as happens for example when paneer is made. But it's also possible that drops of liquid would appear in a kind of 'scattering', as the breeze bursts its way out of the tightness of the bud and perhaps forces the bud open, or at least vigorously shakes free some organic fluid or 'perspiration' from the heart of the flower. Thus the first line tells us either that dew comes from a compression inside the bud, or that dew comes from a breaking up (and 'scattering') of the compression inside the bud. Both readings are grounded in the two senses of , and further enabled by the that follows it (is that 'of' to be read as 'done by', or 'done to'?). By no coincidence, both readings work perfectly well with the rest of the first line. If we're going to be able to choose decisively between them, we'll have to wait-- as long as possible, of course, under mushairah performance conditions-- for the second line to give us some clarifying details. And does it? Of course it doesn't; we're nearly through the divan by now and we all know by now how Ghalib loves to mess with our minds. The second line, by no coincidence, gives equal emphasis to both processes: first, the morning breeze's going into the bud-- where all kinds of compression can easily take place, entirely screened from our view; and second, the morning breeze's emergence-- which can easily be imagined as the kind of rough, abrupt, almost violent struggle that would be accompanied by a spray of droplets. (For an example of this kind of urgent, bursting-out departure, see 6,2 .) In fact, we could almost consider this a verse of erotic suggestion. (For other such verses, see 99,4 .) The commentators generally take the bud to be the aggressor, the 'squeezer' or embarrassment-creator, and the morning breeze to be the victim of pressure or shame. But the verse seems to be set up the other way around: it's the 'going in' and 'coming out' of the breeze that shapes the action, with no indication of any special agency possessed by the bud. The fact that the bud lives in 'privacy' and 'narrowness' and 'pardah' contributes to a kind of feminized passivity for it. And of course we know that the breeze is tough and shameless, it's a survivor, it will long outlive the bud. In fact it's destined to scatter, all too soon, the petals of the dying rose. graphics/rosebuddew.jpg