If I go to the Kaaba, do not taunt me, what can I say?
I have forgotten the right of companionship with the people of the synagogue.
So that in obedience, no trace of wine and honey remains,
Throw me into Hell, let someone else take Paradise.
Why should I not deviate from the path and custom of virtue?
The pen of destiny has made a crooked cut for my fate.
Ghalib, I gain nothing from my own efforts;
My harvest will burn, even if locusts do not eat the crop.
This Urdu poem, characteristic of Ghalib's unique style, delves into themes of unconventional spirituality, existential fatalism, and a critique of transactional piety. The verses question the motivations behind religious observance, rejecting the pursuit of heaven as a reward and instead advocating for selfless devotion. It portrays a speaker defiant of traditional paths of virtue, attributing their deviation to a 'crooked' destiny. The poem concludes with a resigned acceptance of the futility of human effort against the backdrop of an indifferent fate, a hallmark of Ghalib's profound and often ironic philosophical outlook.
defiance · the world's unfairness (shikwa) · wit & rebuke