Dagh Dehlvi lived a life of pain and pining in love. He left behind a treasure-trove of love poetry but did not experience the blessings of love. His coffer was empty; he only knew of an illusory love and died with a wish for turning that illusion into a reality.
To think of love and life is to think of Ghalib the lover, and Ghalib the beloved. He was not angelic in form and moving, nor a god in his apprehension but he surely was a piece of work, not very noble in reason but infinite in faculty. He was indeed Shakespeare’s ‘quintessence of dust’ who saw his love going to dust with emotional attachment and philosophical detachment.
Zafar Iqbal’s poetry contains an element of protest. Here are some couplets of Zafar Iqbal that will surely awaken your conscience.
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