Mirza Ghalib

Thousands of desires — each so fierce, it could take my breath away,

So many dreams were fulfilled… yet still, they fell far short that day.

Theme:

Ghalib is expressing the intensity and endless nature of human desire. He says he had thousands of wishes, each so strong it felt like he could die for it. Even though many of his dreams were fulfilled, it still felt like not enough — the heart keeps wanting more.

In essence, it's about the insatiable nature of desire — no matter how much we get, it never feels complete.

A longing that lives silently within the heart,

A wish that remains unfulfilled—even after death—

That… is what we call an armaan (deep yearning).

Theme:

This verse speaks about deep, silent desires — those that stay hidden in the heart and are never fulfilled, not even after death. Such a powerful, unfulfilled longing is called an “armaan”, meaning a yearning so intense it becomes a part of you forever.It’s about the pain of carrying dreams that never come true.

Why should my killer feel regret? Will any weight rest upon his neck?

That blood — which from my wounded body, flowed drop by drop, for a lifetime.

Theme:

The poet is reflecting on emotional or spiritual suffering caused by someone — possibly a lover or fate itself. He questions why the one who caused his pain would feel guilt, since the suffering was slow, silent, and stretched over a lifetime. The "blood" symbolizes endless sorrow, bleeding quietly without notice — making the killer’s guilt even less likely.

It’s a powerful image of unseen suffering and emotional abandonment.

In love, there's no difference between living and dying,

I live only by seeing the one — for whom I'd gladly give my life.

Theme:

Ghalib says that love blurs the line between life and death — both feel the same. The only reason he clings to life is to see the beloved, even if that very person is the one he'd die for. The word "kāfir" here is used in a poetic sense — to describe someone who is beautiful yet heartless, someone who steals the heart.

It's a beautiful mix of devotion, surrender, and longing — classic Ghalib.

What business has the preacher at the tavern’s door, Ghalib?

But all I know is — yesterday, as I left… he was going in.

Theme:

Ghalib contrasts the preacher (waa'iz) — symbol of piety and judgment — with the winehouse (maikhanah) — symbol of sin, love, and spiritual freedom. He mocks the hypocrisy, saying the very one who preaches against sin was seen entering the same place he condemns. Ghalib is subtly defending his way of life while exposing the double standards of moralists.

It’s sharp, clever, and classic Ghalib — rebellious and unbothered.

Why wouldn't the heart grow weary of fate’s endless spin?

I'm human, not a wineglass or goblet of tin.

Theme:

oet speaks of emotional exhaustion caused by life's constant turbulence (gardish-e-mudaam). He reminds us — I'm human, not an object like a winecup or goblet that silently endures being filled, emptied, or passed around. This is a cry for empathy and understanding — a declaration of human vulnerability.