Written by: Fiza Husnain
Posted on: April 11, 2025 | | 中文
Mirza Ghalib, the greatest Urdu poet of all times
How do you make peace with the atrocities of life? How can suffering be enough to live through without falling into its pit? How do you stand tall in the face of adversity with a little smirk on your face? What if I told you that your favourite giant of Urdu poetry, Mirza Ghalib, has been teaching you this all along through his verses? What if I told you that the greatest master of Urdu poetry possessed a razor-sharp sense of humour, and that he infused his craft with sarcasm and wit, not merely to diversify it, but to remind us of what is essential for survival in the darkest of times?
Ghalib’s verses serve as a guidebook, offering a new lens through which to view misery, sadness and suffering. What strengthens us at our lowest is the ability to laugh in the face of adversity, to reject the tyranny of fate and smile as things fall apart. That, in itself, is resistance. You strip sorrow of its power the moment you learn to meet it with humour.
Ghalib’s poetic musings carry an elaborate flair for nonconformity. You come across verses where sarcasm and suffering are entangled, pain interwoven with a lingering hope. He toys with words, giving the metaphor of separation an entirely new meaning while staying true to its context. There’s separation anxiety, and within the same couplet, he subtly mocks that very suffering. This delicate balancing act is pivotal to Ghalib’s poetic mastery. As he famously wrote:
Mushkilain itni pari mujh par ke asaan ho gayin.
(So many hardships befell me that they became easy.)
To reach that certain point of despair, where you become a spectator to your own suffering and refuse to suffer simply for the sake of suffering—that is a victory in itself.
One way to uncover the other side of truth is to dwell on the opposite of what’s handed to you by circumstance. To see through the worst, embrace it gracefully, and even craft a self-consolation out of it. Ghalib’s wit gleams in this famous couplet:
Hum koi tark-e-wafa karte hain,
Na sahi ishq, museebat hi sahi.
(I will not abandon the path of loyalty; if not love, then let it be a calamity.)
Here, Ghalib plays with the idea that he knows love is difficult and full of suffering. Yet, he chooses to embrace that calamity as an alternate form of love. The clever rebranding of ishq (love) into museebat (calamity), without abandoning loyalty, embodies his subtle sarcasm and the brilliance of his wit.
In another well-known verse, his sarcasm peaks, laced with pessimism and absolute acceptance:
Wafa kaisi? Kaha ka ishq? Jab sar phodna tha,
Toh phir aye sang-dil, tera hi sang-e-aastha kyun ho?
(What is all this talk of faithfulness and love? If I must smash my head,
Why, oh stone-hearted one, must it be against your doorstep?)
This is pure submission to fate and the beloved’s indifference. Ghalib accepts that nothing will come of this love, none of his goodness or sincerity can melt her stone heart. So why limit himself to her doorstep? He could bang his head anywhere. The sarcasm in this couplet drips effortlessly. It’s not aggressive but teasing, a playful mockery of her ruthlessness. The suffering subject is given a mischievous tone, making the pain lighter, almost bearable.
Ghalib’s wit remains one of the most underrated and unexplored dimensions of his poetry. His ability to infuse humour into abstract, complex ideas elevates him as a literary giant. Wordplay was his weapon of choice. For instance:
Hum ko sitam azeez, sitamgar ko hum azeez,
Na mehrbaan nahi hai, agar mehrbaan nahi.
(Oppression is dear to me; I am dear to my oppressor.
Her unkindness is not kindness, but it is also not unkind.)
His razor-sharp wit shines here. Not only does he play with words, but he also constructs an entire philosophy of love, one where suffering becomes inevitable. Aware of his beloved’s power to hurt, he still glorifies that very oppression. By claiming to love the pain she inflicts, he places her on a pedestal. What could have been unbearable is reframed into something tolerable, almost desirable. In Ghalib’s world, even pain becomes liberating.
In another verse, he writes:
Milna tera agar nahi aasaan to asaan hai,
Dushwaar to yeh hai ke dushwaar bhi nahi.
(If being with you wasn’t easy, it would’ve been easy.
The real challenge is that it’s not even a challenge.)
Here again, Ghalib uses clever wordplay to explore the intricacies of love. Traditionally, love is portrayed as a painful pursuit of an unattainable beloved, a chase that keeps the heart aching. But Ghalib flips the script. He suggests that the real suffering lies in the ease of union. The absence of challenge itself becomes the greatest challenge. It’s a beautifully obscure idea, yet Ghalib makes it sound effortless through his craftsmanship.
It becomes evident that Ghalib masterfully uses wordplay to present unsettling ideas wrapped in harmless banter. He never loses grip over his words; every line is deliberate, every metaphor calculated. He effortlessly captures contradictions, presenting both sides of a thought within a single couplet and then skilfully dismantling them.
By weaving humour, wit, and sarcasm into his verses, Ghalib makes suffering, life’s atrocities, and the pain of love a little more tolerable. You could be experiencing the most gut-wrenching heartbreak, but reading a relatable couplet by Ghalib would not only resonate deeply, it might also leave you smirking at the irony of it all.
That is how this 19th-century poet laureate teaches us to face life’s cruelties: with humour, wit and with a healthy disdain.
You may also like: