Echoing Poetry in Mirza Ghalib’s Haveli

Leha

Echoing Poetry in Mirza Ghalib’s Haveli

The crowded neighbourhood of Ballimaran in Delhi-6 speaks in a language known to Ghalib. With the vestiges of old Urdu seeping into the lives of people living here, poetry echoes in every lane of the area. Perhaps this magic drew Mirza Ghalib and enabled him to love Dilli, despite its flaws and the changing times.

A portrait of Ghalib; Image Source- The Indian Express

The haveli saw harsher times after the demise of Ghalib in 1869. The Government of India took the haveli under its wings in 1964, only to auction it later to Mohammed Ali Farooqi. The new owner rented out the rooms of the haveli, but his death and the absence of a legal heir made things difficult. The haveli ever since saw rapid change in ownership. From being a coal shop to a manufacturing unit to becoming a wedding hall, it finally went to the Delhi Government in 1999. It was then restored and remodelled to resemble the abode of Ghalib.

No matter what, Ghalib never gave up on Delhi. The lanes of Ballimaran were the medicine he needed. So, when Gulzar writes:

"Isee be-noor andheri see gali qaasim se

Ek tarteeb chiragon kee shuru hoti hai

Ek quran-e-sukhan ka safa khulta hai

Asadallah Khan Ghalib ka pata milta hai."

(In one such dark, dimly-lit street

Where a row of lit lamps starts,

Where a new page of poetry begins

There, the whereabouts of Asadullah Khan Ghalib can be found),

You ought to believe that Dilli was Ghalib's soul. Him and his haveli have seen everything about Delhi from the days of its glory, to its submission to the British flag.

In the last years of his life, Ghalib sought refuge at “2469, Gali Captain, Baradari, Balli Maran, Delhi.” The address today is the memorial museum of the famous poet. The old structure welcomes its visitors through a semi-circular arched entrance. The haveli was a gift from an hakim who adored Ghalib to the point of sheltering him.

Within the rooms of this haveli, Ghalib composed some of his best pieces before his death. Writing and reciting ghazals to a daily audience in the evening, in the courtyard, was the norm of the olden days, cherished deeply by Ghalib.

The haveli captures the memory of the past through a portrait of Ghalib and walls adorned with his couplets. A tour through the haveli will reveal a life-size replica of the poet consuming hookah, some original manuscripts of his work right beside the bust of Ghalib carved in marble.

To every fan of Ghalib out there, it is much more than building. To walk through the corridors and rooms where Ghalib must have paced to find his muse is like sharing his secret. To stand in the courtyard where he used to read his poetry is heaven for his admirers. To have a look at the manuscripts written by him in neat Urdu calligraphy while re-living the magic of his words is something no Ghalib fan shall miss out on.

"Ik roz apni rooh se poocha, ki Dilli kya hai, to yun jawab main keh gaye, yeh duniya mano jism hai aur Dilli uski jaan".

The couplet translates to- 'I asked my soul, What is Delhi? It replied: The world is the body, Delhi it's soul.' Ghalib's claim might seem exaggerated to someone who does not know him well. After reading the couplet, you might be wondering what is so special about Ghalib and Delhi? Let me enlighten you on this.

Born in Agra in 1797, Mirza Asadullah Baig Khan lost his father at 5. Brought up by his Uncle, Baig, unfortunately, lost him in an accident in 1806. Agra did not have much to offer Baig now. As a result, after his marriage, at 13, he permanently settled in Delhi for the rest of his life.

Amongst other things, Baig's one true passion was writing poetry. Initially employing the pen name Asad, he later shifted to the name Ghalib. Ghalib's words adorned the court of Bahadur Shah Zafar II, bestowing the title of Mirza by the Emperor of India.

Ghalib never owned a house in Delhi. Living the life of a nomad, he shifted from place to place in search of inspiration and patronage. But the years of the Sepoy Mutiny (1857) took a heavy toll on this free soul. Ghalib witnessed the slow demise of the Mughal Empire while retreating into his shell, failed by his times and life in general. It was no secret that his marital life was tumultuous with the unforgettable wound of losing seven children.