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Ghalib stayed outside
Last night.
I had forgotten about him
Just as I had forgotten about
Other things
In that folded universe:
Galli and kuccha, mohalla and chowk.
Qasida and nazraana and kalam.
To explain all that
Would take a dictionary
and many anthologies.
Perhaps, Ghalib in person.
Not that Ghalib turned up drunk
After midnight
and I wouldn’t let him in.
He cares, I know.
He still hasn’t received his pension.
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