MORE LESSONS FROM GHALIB

Seeing the good parts of life is especially hard when the bad parts threaten to  wipe you out.


When I describe my condition, you say "What's your point?"
When you talk to me that  way what am I to say?

 Your lover may not be faithful, but she is your lover.
We could mention the  sensuous rolling way she walks.

Spring doesn't last that long but  at least it is Spring.
It would be  good to mention the scented winds that move through the garden.

Ghalib, once the boat has arrived at the other shore,
Why go on and on about the wickedness of the boatman?


I have loved these lines from Ghalib for a long time. What I love is his insistence on seeing what is good. instead of berating  what is bad  and in many ways destroying the entire experience.
He uses the device of two voices. The I is supposedly Ghalib's  thinking and complaints, but he is checked and corrected by a friend or  maybe a better part of his own thinking. The friend dissects the complaints and neatly separates and saves what is good in the situation.
Yes, your lover is not perfect--she is  unfaithful but she is still your lover and she has a sexy walk.
Spring is too short  but it does bring those scented winds.
Once you have gotten somewhere why complain about the  driver?

All great questions.  Now that I am home from the hospital let's recall that they saved my life.
That is my lesson and here--yes, believe it or not--I have started a ghazal --this is just a draft.
KNOCKING AT HEAVEN'S DOOR.

Ghazal Knock, Knock Knockin' at Heaven's Door.

If you are in Septic Shock you are already knocking at heaven's door.

Then they decide to do emergency surgery; more knocking at heaven's door.

Everyone around me seemed evil, working a scam, selling breast implants.

Dying is not easy; I thought, there's a struggle ahead, fist cocking at heaven's door

Then I forgot words to prayers; how can I pass the Gate when I get it all wrong?

What force? Evil, Satanic, was stopping my memory, blocking at heaven's door.

Death is a struggle, there is going to be a showdown here, what weapons do I have?

No one said it would be easy; they see me coming and start locking at heaven's door

When my sister Sheila died my mother dreamed that her mother pulled up a laundry basket.

Jane lifts her grand daughter to heaven. What about me? How am I docking at heaven's door?

Am I back in the fold? The Shepherd came and found me in the thicket of disbelief.

I'm grateful that Hound of Heaven tracked me down. Norma, no mocking at heaven's door.