The pathos of Mirza Ghalib

I have been an avid fan of Jagjit Singh and thru his gazals have come to know about the literary prowess of Mirza Asadullah Khan Ghalib... (quite a reverse route I must say...)
I have been a great fan of all the gazals from the T.V serial 'Mirza Ghalib' .... The one in particular which appealed to me was ' yeh na thi hamari kismat...'
Rcently I happened to read the transaltion of the entire sher which goes something like this...

Yeh na thi hamari kismat ke visaley yaar hota,
(It was not in my fate that I should meet my lover)
Agar aur jeetey rehte, yahi intezaar hota
(If I had continued living, the same anticipation would have existed)

Tere vade pe jiye hum, toh yeh jaan, jhoot jana,
(That I am living because of your promise, then know this to be untrue)
Ke khushi se mar na jaatey, agar aitbaar hota
(Would I not die out of happiness, if I had any faith in you)

Koie mere dil se poochchey tere teere neemkash ko,
(If somebody asks my heart about your half drawn arrow)
Yeh khalish kahaan se hoti, jo jigar ke paar hota
(Where would this prick (or sting) come from, if it (the arrow) had crossed my heart)

Yeh kahaan ki dosti hain ke baney hain dost, naseh,
(What kind of friendship is this that my friends have become strangers)
Koi chaarasaaz hota, koie ghamgusaar hota
(How I wish someone would have been healers, someone would have been confidantes)
Huey markey hum jo rusva, huey kyoon na gharke dariya,
(Why have I died so notorious, why did I not drown in the river)
Na kabhi janaaza utatha, na kahin mazaar hota
(Never would my funeral (coffin) have been lifted, never would there have been a tomb )

I was moved literally to tears seeing the deep pathos and sorrow in the entire poetry... In this poetry Ghalib talks about the never ending wait for his beloved and the treachery meted out by her to him for the overtures made...
The disillusionment of Ghalib emanating from his failed love leads him to also doubt the sincerity of his friends and a longing for friends who would heal his bleeding heart.
The poem ends with a sorrowful note in which Ghalib evn predicts his death and the ultimate neglect to him even after his death (Na kabhi janaaza utatha, na kahin mazaar hota )...
In real life , Ghalib's journey has been marked with poverty, lack of recognition and neglect...

History has been witness to the lives of great poets who have left behind golden letters to hold on to and express yourself with... but on a personal front most of them went through turbulence in their relationship, financially and also in terms of getting recognition from the contemporary society.. Most of the great wriers and poets died a pauper and it is only after their death that the society recognised their great work and honoured them... (O' Henry, Vincent Van Gogh, Henri Rousseau, Paul Gauguin, Johannes Vermeer etc etc)

I sometimes wonder if as a society we are so insensitive to work of creativity of such great man, that they have to spend their entire life in poverty and misery only to die for us to recognsie their work...
Even today art as a full time profession is looked down upon as a 'non paying' job and not able to sustain one thru the rough and tumble of life.

Recently I had a chance to meet such a veteran who had done soem beautiful oil paint art which he showed to us. This gentleman had worked as makeshift artist in various magazines and newspapers. He was narrating of the difficult time that he always passes through in order to make both ends meet. Talking to him I saw the fire in hsi eye... the sort of creative energy which is desperately looking for an avenue to express itself... but then I also saw it being temepred by the harsh reality of our times which has somehow subdued the fire within....