|
In the end, Mirza Ghalib, despite his immense talent for
creativity, turns out to be a philanderer, for whom poetry was
not only a refuge but also a mechanism that probably helped him
from lapsing into insanity. Self deprecating and mocking, not
only himself but life in general, he symbolised his age, and
therefore refused to heed the warnings ahead. In the end, both
he and his emperor stood gazing at the world that had collapsed
so speedily around them. Therefore, despondency and escapism
become the hallmark of his poetry though they are creatively
laced with pithy and witty turns of phrases and imagery.
It is this world
that has been translated by the author and into which he
attempts to lead the English-speaking reader. However, the fact
Kejariwal has chosen only couplets rather than complete poems
makes one wonder if his intention was to cull out only notable
quotes from Ghalib. If that was the intention then he deserves
to be complimented on his selection, but it does leave a sense
of inadequacy in appreciating the master. It is true that the
interpretation and translation of the masters is the prerogative
of the translator but should it entail that the reader be
left stranded in a language that often borders on the dull and
the prosaic? Often Kejariwal is guilty of reducing the lofty and
the sublime to the ordinary and the mundane. Have a look at the
couplet on page 33: bandgi mein bhi vo azad-o-khudbin hain ki
ham/ulte phir ae, dare-kaba agar va na hua. In the original,
one can almost see and feel the flourish with which a proud and
haughty person turns away from a closed door, even if it was the
House of God. The translation is not only dull and drab but also
fails to capture the spirit of a man too proud to offer prayers
on unequal terms. The inadequacy of the translator is even more
acutely felt on page 40 where one of the more popular couplets
is subjected to laboured verse which borders on the prose.
Similarly, the effort of translating couplet of page 59 ends in
something of a riddle, while that of page 69 is faulty, to say
the least. One can go on and on and wonder if it would not have
been better if only an honest paraphrasing of the couplets had
been rendered. In response, the author might retort that in any
case the translations of masters have invariably left many
dissatisfied. But since this reflects upon the undoubtedly
universal nature of Ghalib, one would have to blame the
translator for doing injustice to the master.
|