Showing posts with label ghalib. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ghalib. Show all posts

Sunday, 2 August 2015

Ghalib 79 & the Taj's answer to its own mosque.


The world is a bridge- entering the great gate of Fatehpur Sikri, Sir Thomas Roe was thus epigraphically admonished four centuries ago- pass over it; build no houses on it.

Still, it would be another 150 years before us Cockneys saw sense and demolished all London Bridge's crazily piled skyward tenements and emporia as well as disassembling, that miracle of the joiner's art, Nonsuch House- hyle here so answering to Porphyry's fire- which, unlike that of lame Hephaistos, burns more like a dancer for disdaining matter's crutch- it out-dances its own Great Fire like a limber Mahasati.

What of our own Asad- Agra's child?

This is my best guess.

If you are so fucking stupid as to believe the Taj's choultry can be any Mosque's jawaab
Your own cock is the Saqi of non duality's Danaean pishaab.
Pyrhho, Ind's indalmoi as Heaven's King- of cunts composed
Ah! Ask not my dick to count each sin the stars proposed!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
{79,1}*
gar tujh ko hai yaqīn-e ijābat duʿā nah māñg
yaʿnī baġhair-e yak dil-e be-muddaʿā nah māñg


1a) if you have assurance of [God's] acceptance [of your prayer], don't ask in prayer
1b) if you have assurance in [your] acceptance [of God's will], don't ask in prayer

2a) that is, except for a single heart with no desire/object, don’t ask [for anything else] in prayer
2b) that is, without [having] a single heart with no desire/object, don’t ask in prayer

ātā hai dāġh-e ḥasrat-e dil kā shumār yād
mujh se mire gunah kā ḥisāb ay ḳhudā nah māñg

1) the number of wounds/scars of the longing/grief of the heart [habitually] comes to mind
2) from me, an accounting of my sin, oh Lord-- don't ask

Sunday, 15 March 2015

Ghalib 53


āmad-e ḳhat̤ se huʾā hai sard jo bāzār-e dost

dūd-e shamʿ-e kushtah thā shāyad ḳhat̤-e ruḳhsār-e dost

ay dil-e nā-ʿāqibat-andesh ẓabt̤-e shauq kar

kaun lā saktā hai tāb-e jalvah-e dīdār-e dost

ḳhānah-vīrāñ-sāzī-e ḥairat tamāshā kījiye

ṣūrat-e naqsh-e qadam hūñ raftah-e raftār-e dost

ʿishq meñ bedād-e rashk-e ġhair ne mārā mujhe

kushtah-e dushman hūñ āḳhir garchih thā bīmār-e dost

chashm-e mā raushan kih us bedād kā dil shād hai

dīdah-e pur-ḳhūñ hamārā sāġhar-e sarshār-e dost

ġhair yūñ kartā hai merī pursish us ke hajr meñ

be-takalluf dost ho jaise koʾī ġham-ḳhvār-e dost

yih ġhazal apnī mujhe jī se pasand ātī hai āp

hai radīf-e shiʿr meñ ġhālib z bas takrār-e dost

This adolescent lucubration so stinks of the lamp as to make a fugitive of Truth 
Like a Platonic pederast back pedaling from a now sooty chinned youth.

Oh my heart! Be thou, no mountebank Moses, but Mt. Tur to the vision of that face
As Ganga to Himavant; Torah's graven terrors let Shekinah's tears erase

So fleetly fled from that foot-print, mine eyes still mirror in amaze
No Adam's peak, far to seek, but a dazzled Arafat all my days

See how the envy of my rival, my one resource of survival, with mimetic unfairness fails
Now my death is at his door, all Hope's revival defames the eidetic plague Love entails

So her heart know Hedon, mine eyes grow bright & all arterial gout
Blood red wine to her cup over-brim & callow humanity rout

Ghalib, Tho' She is ever with thee... NOT!, she is far
Such be-takkalluf Borats is all Friends are
       





Thursday, 5 March 2015

Ghalib's Parrondo game

Even if Love is only ever either Puerile or Profane
& Faith the Loss by which but Book-makers Gain
 A Ghalib can yet sequence as a Parrondo's game
Vigils at her door & Prayer's Walk of Shame.

Tuesday, 16 December 2014

Ghalib- ghazal 94

barshkāl-e giryah-e ʿāshiq hai dekhā chāhiye
khil gaʾī mānind-e gul sau jā se dīvār-e chaman
ulfat-e gul se ġhalat̤ hai daʿv;ā-e vā-rastagī
sarv hai bā vaṣf-e āzādī giriftār-e chaman

The season of rainfall for lovelorn lashes should be re-viewed to expose
The garden wall, through a hundred gashes, gaping lewd like the rose 
From such floral passion what choral salvation can arise?
E'er loftier grows the Cypress ne'er escaping Paradise.


Note- The word "paradise" entered English from the French paradis, inherited from the Latinparadisus, from Greek parádeisos(παράδεισος), from an Old Iranian word1]attested in Avestan as pairi-daêza-.[2][3] The literal meaning of this Eastern Old Iranian language word is "walled (enclosure)",[2]from pairi- "around" and -diz "to create (a wall)".[4] 

Wednesday, 26 November 2014

Ghalib 13.1


Neath thy eyebrow's Islamic arch, for wine's fountain we prayed
& brothels yet nestle in the Mosque's hoary shade
Proving that, in no wise prodigal, Abounding Grace
So all things perish, saves a single face.
Notes-

{131,1}

مسجد کے زیرِ سایہ خرابات چاہیے
بھوں پاس آنکھ قبلۂ حاجات چاہیے

Wednesday, 12 November 2014

2 quatrains from Ghalib's 164


Notoriously, eyes devil, notarising deals in pupillage to such imps
The heart is the sole bidder on what, heartless, it yet pimps
& for veiled by but worship are yearning's futile arrows
 See, Abraha's elephants scattered again by sparrows

As before, at its own ease, an eternal heart is ill
Having no wound to tease more mortal till
Nails itch to pluck out like a tick
Bach's vernal pump of the tulip's ilk

Envoi-                                            
Sardar! Selflessness, to Synteresis, is never naked because
Like V.P, Hypokiemenon too deserves applause.

Notes-
1) The relevant couplets, extracted in reverse order out of Ghalib's ghazal, which underlie the translation given above are-
chashm dallāl-e jins-e rusvāʾī
dil ḳharīdār-e żauq-e ḳhvārī hai
qiblah-e maqṣad-e nigāh-e niyāz
phir vuhī pardah-e ʿamārī hai

phir kuchh ik dil ko beqarārī hai
sīnah jūyā-e zaḳhm-e kārī hai
phir jigar khodne lagā nāḳhun
āmad-e faṣl-e lālah-kārī hai

be-ḳhvudī be-sabab nahīñ ġhālib
kuchh to hai jis kī pardah-dārī hai
See Prof. Frances Pritchett's divine 'desertful of roses' website for Urdu text and expert commentary.

2) TULIP is an acronym for the following doctrines: Total depravity, Unconditional election, Limited atonement, Irresistible grace, and Perseverance of the saints.
J.S Bach, 'the fifth Evangelist', gives us, in his 1725 Spring cantatas, an auditory homology of pre-Lutheran synteresis (or Luther's own notion of it as not intrinsic but an adornment), thus re-establishing Music's ongoing descent from David as a fractal tropological prefiguring of its own otherwise teratological performance of John 21-25,  such that, of those unwritten volumes too vast for the Universe, we too can affirm what Neitzche said of the St. Matthew's Passion- '"One who has completely forgotten Christianity truly hears it here as gospel."

3) Abraha, a Christian Ethiopian, came to conquer the Ka'aba, during the time of idolatry, with an army of elephants. This invasion was repelled by little birds which flung clods of earth from their beaks.

4) V.P Menon was a humbly born bureaucrat who laid the ground-work for the great Sardar Vallabhai Patel's successful integration of the Princely States into the Indian Union.

Monday, 3 November 2014

Ghalib's 81.12

This is a good example of a couplet which is meaningful in Urdu because we unconsciously read things like Sachal Sarmast and Suhuni Mahiwal into its mise en scene, even though this isn't warranted by elite literary taste.
In English, however, the 'melting of the gemis not a cliche at all but transports us to back to cold class-rooms and swotting for a Scholarship.
 
kishtī-e ʿālam bah t̤ūfān-e taġhāful de kih haiñ
ʿālam-e āb-e gudāz-e jauhar-e afsānah ham

The World as Suhuni's Ark, to Abandonment we hurl
To at Arafat melt into the Gawain poet's pearl


Friday, 18 July 2014

John 21-22

 'And there are also many other things which Jesus did, the which, if they should be written every one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that should be written. Amen.'
Be it Godel's Aleph or Ghalib's Arif or what Wine wastes yet of me
'If I will that he tarry till I come- what is that to thee?'
In sum,the Continuum is as chary of its own Inspection
As is Jamshed's cup of the Saqi's reflection


Tuesday, 17 June 2014

Ghalib's ghazal 59


 Upon the latch of your gate, since I erect, with no word spoken,
Natch, my Estate,  you'll only detect by heard token

She says- now my Logos fails and her Laughter too is weak-
'What hearts say, I can't know, no wights speak!'

She who fixed upon my neck Love's collar of iron
This World surnames the tyranny of Zion.



By the time ghazal 59 was written, Ghalib had already composed several odes (qasida) to Ind's true 'sitamgars'- i.e ruinous tyrants- the British Imperialists and their ever Victorious Queen. Some of these qasidas were returned as improperly addressed- a familiar plaint in succeeding decades; Champaran's indigo farmers went en masse to petition the King Emperor, who was in their vicinity, for a spot of Tiger shooting ( this was a few years before Gandhi appeared on the scene) but their petition was rejected because it had not gone through the proper channels.

Conventionally, the qasida opens (nasib) with an account of the poet's sense of ruination on arriving at the encampment of the beloved only to see that it has already moved on.
First couplet

ghar jab banaa liyaa tire dar par kahe ba;Gair
jaanegaa ab bhii tuu nah miraa ghar kahe ba;Gair
1) when I built a house at your door, without [your/my] saying [anything]

2a) will you not know my house, even/also now, without [your/my] saying [anything]?
2b) you will not know my house, even/also now, without [your/my] saying [anything]!

Nowadays, of course, the beloved aint a bedouin- tho' perhaps little better than a 'street Arab' subsisting upon 'the produce of her vagrant amours'- yet her house is the centre of a now universal depredation which mirrors the activities of the 'Stationary Bandit' that is Company Raj- and though the foundation of my house is now but the eddying of dust at her too frequented door, yet she refuses to know my location save by way of my own nasib which is to but describe my desolation at her having already moved on though still at the same place.
It seems Ghalib has predicted the trajectory of the 'Post Colonial Subject' in this pithy verse.  The fatalism of the 'Musselman' in Primo Levis Auschwitz now has a triple valency as 
1) the beginning of Philosophy, which is the beginning of Love, which is the rekindling of anamnesis (the qasidah's nostalgic nasib) and proper induction into the Socratic practise of Death (T.S. Eliot knew that the Sanskrit 'Smara'- Love but also Memory- is but a sibilant prefixed to that distinguished...nothing which destroys both) i.e. the ecstatic, in articulo mortis, practice of relinquishing Maieutics for Mousike (the Urdu word derives from the Greek) but all to no avail for, Post or Pre Colonial subject- i.e. qua subject- all that is recited is some muthoi of Aesop such that the Lion in its net is rescued by mice who nibble away not the rope that binds the noble beast, but its very marrow and sinews.
2) The transformation of the notion of Sacred allotment or apportionment (nasib) into negative Entitlement- a tax owed to a Secular Aeon (ad-dhar) which we can't vilify because it robs us so thoroughly no tongue is left to us nor candle, book or bell.
3) Nasib not as the tempering of Thymos by terminable Fate but an un-annealing amor fati and Eternal, worse un-Ergodic, and therefore unmeaning, Recurrence and Seriality.

Second couplet 
kahte haiñ jab rahī nah mujhe t̤āqat-e suḳhan
jānūñ kisī ke dil kī maiñ kyūñkar kahe baġhair
1) [she] says, when the strength for speech did not remain to me,
2) 'how would I know [the speech] of anyone's heart, without [his] saying [it]?'

Sukhan, as used by Sheikh Galip, means 'Logos'- more particularly 'Logos' as self-evidently Logos, not vainglorious doxa, by reason of the special facility- or Lewis 'elite eligibility'-  which 'Poetry'- at least that of Galip or  Ghalib's-  shows in carving it up along its joints; or rather the reverse, restoring the Lion Aslan whose sinews our mind mice had previously been snacking on.

Third couplet
kām us se ā paṛā hai kih jis kā jahān meñ
leve nah koʾī nām sitamgar kahe baġhair

work/desire} with/through that one has befallen [me]-- [that one] of whom, in the world,
 no one would mention/invoke the name without saying 'tyrant'


Kaam, in the Hindvi tradition has a double valency- both 'work' and 'Eros'- and both are sublated by 'Naam'- the name- Eros perpetuates either an honourable family name or the stain of infamy just as Work (karm) perpetuates bondage to karma- the cycle of re-birth and nescience. Chanting the name of God- for example that of Shiva, one of whose epithets is 'Smarahara'- destroyer of 'Eros', destroyer of 'Memory'- including the memory of work done and debts owed- on the other hand releases from the delusion of ontology- the Name is higher than the Reality it signifies, indeed the Names of God- independent of attributes- are both cause and cure of worldly dysphoria.
From the time of Amir Khusrau, if not earlier, this theme had been very thoroughly integrated into Islamic mysticism- indeed, there is no difficulty in warranting it a wholly Arab intellectual provenance.
The equation of the beloved with the tyrant has, however, a specifically Indian meaning- given the use of the Hindvi words 'kaam' and 'naam'- best explicated by the story of, the Turkish, Sultan Mahmud and his beloved slave, the native, Ayaz who, proverbially, knew his place.
Ahmed Ghazzali analysed their relationship in terms reminiscent of Hegel's 'Master-Slave dialectic' such that, the 'Young' Marx's 'Alienation' applies equally, or- indeed- more particularly- to 'Love' rather than 'Labour' such that, in the same way that the Thymotic Roman Master becomes the helpless slave of the Wealth created by the self-objectifying Arts of his Stoic bondsman, so too does the  capricious Turkish Sultan come under the tutelage of his all tolerating Punjabi peon.
From the ecumenical Spiritual point of view, this raises a question regarding the archetypal figure of the 'beloved disciple'- be it Christ & St. John the Evangelist, or Lord Buddha and Ananda, or some rather more antinomian syzygies in the Malamati Sufi tradition which however should not be taken at face value so as to give scandal to the Faithful.
Goethe, I think, said that of the animals we know are assured of heaven, sans doubt, Prophet Muhammad's beloved cat Muezza, is up there along with the dog of Ephesus' Seven Sleepers.  Was that cat a Pharaonic 'tyrant' or 'Abu Houl' type 'father of terrors'- i.e. a Sphinx? It caused the Prophet to mutilate his robe.
Yet, surely, for all hearts, be we Muslim or Kaffir, that cat which sat on the mantle of Prophethood, is verily the name of all that empowers, honours and strengthens our own self-sought bondage to Love be that parole howsoever delayed.

Friday, 30 May 2014

Ghalib ghazal 76

bīm-e raqīb se nahīñ karte vidāʿ-e hosh

majbūr yāñ talak huʾe ay iḳhtiyār ḥaif

jaltā hai dil kih kyūñ nah ham ik bār jal gaʾe

ay nā-tamāmī-e nafas-e shuʿlah-bār ḥaif


We quit not Consciousness for fear of the Rival- Alas!
Love constrains Love for its very Survival- Alas!
Oh arsonist heart, why spared you my factory?
A bankrupt so burnt, yet Love is refractory- Alas!

Saturday, 15 February 2014

Ghalib Ghazal 64

If Nakedness is lacking whose hand can Madness lend?
Collar tearing now the Duty my neck to thus bend.

Like the prismatics of burning paper is Restlessness' wizardry
With mirrors myriad the heart binds its own flutter to be free

What claim for departed joy can we press on Heaven's Wheel?
For what the Highwayman carries off, in his debt we yet feel

To extinction allot your essence if for it you are yet eager
The wood chips kindle, make the fire-place not meager.

I am a sacrifice of such style as to my butcher instigate
To such ingenuity in torture both worlds regenerate

junūñ kī dast-gīrī kis se ho gar ho nah ʿuryānī
garebāñ chāk kā ḥaq ho gayā hai merī gardan par
bah rang-e kāġhaż-e ātish-zadah nairang-e betābī
hazār āʾīnah dil bāñdhe hai bāl-e yak tapīdan par

falak se ham ko ʿaish-e raftah kā kyā kyā taqāẓā hai
matāʿ-e burdah ko samjhe huʾe haiñ qarẓ rahzan par
fanā ko sauñp gar mushtāq hai apnī ḥaqīqat kā
furoġh-e t̤ālaʿ-e ḳhāshāk hai mauqūf gulḳhan par
asad bismil hai kis andāz kā qātil se kahtā hai
kih mashq-e nāz kar ḳhūn-e do-ʿālam merī gardan par

Friday, 10 January 2014

Ghalib's Elegy.

If, at Journey's end, your vigil's prolonged by my dilatory ways
Recall, alone you ventured forth, bide alone a few more days.

Whether its rain can dissolve rock or my eyes are their own maze
My skull or your sepulchre will crack in a few more days

Just yesterday you came, not as a guest who forever stays
Why so fain to flee 'fore my plea for 'a few more days?'

Your parting jest was ever 'from now, till the End of Days!'
My Doom is now and forever, not in a few more days.

Yes, more than Endymion, Selene, Arif had a youthful face
Old Siren of the Skies, couldn't you wait a few more days?

He was our Moon of Eid, we feasted by his rays
Now our lifelong Lent knows but Ember days

My dear one, do you naively ask why Ghalib yet delays?
Death too is a desire at least for a few more days.

lāzim thā kih dekho mirā rastā koʾī din aur
tanhā gaye kyūñ ab raho tanhā koʾī din aur
miṭ jāʾegā sar gar tirā patthar nah ghisegā
hūñ dar pah tire nāṣiyah-farsā koʾī din aur
āye ho kal aur āj hī kahte ho kih jāʾūñ
mānā kih hameshah nahīñ achchhā koʾī din aur
jāte huʾe kahte ho qiyāmat ko mileñge
kyā ḳhūb qiyāmat kā hai goyā koʾī din aur
hāñ ay falak-e pīr javāñ thā abhī ʿārif
kyā terā bigaṛtā jo nah martā koʾī din aur
tum māh-e shab-e chār-duham the mire ghar ke
phir kyūñ nah rahā ghar kā vuh naqshā koʾī din aur
nādāñ ho jo kahte ho kih kyūñ jīte haiñ ġhālib
qismat meñ hai marne kī tamannā koʾī din aur

Thursday, 9 January 2014

Ghalib 125

Gone is that matter which e'en addressed wouldn't matter
Why speak when what is spoken like ashes must scatter?

Union is the name of what gnaws at our Mind
If it isn't where isn't it to Loose or to Bind?

Courtesy is a mask that lacerates the face
Shame in this matter is Beauty's disgrace

Adoring his idol- how would the Brahmin eat?
Did every idol its adorer she like me treat

Even the timid glance of the mirror so excites your ire
Had you a second in the City it's minarets were of Fire.

Whose fate is to face days black as mine
If Day he calls Night which Moon will repine?

My hope revives with her professions of esteem
 If further she won't inquire, my lot is but dream

The faith I placed in her epistle was no foolish mistake
What eye to eye isn't seen, is Unseen for Heaven's sake!

 Of the Theodicy of Love in Separation, if this Envoi is trite yet odd.
 Tell her, Ghalib isn't raving,  he echoes the shadow of God


gaʾī vuh bāt kih ho guftago to kyūñkar ho
kahe se kuchh nah huʾā phir kaho to kyūñkar ho

hamāre żahn meñ us fikr kā hai nām viṣāl
kih gar nah ho to kahāñ jāʾeñ ho to kyūñkar ho
adab hai aur yihī kashmakash to kyā kīje
ḥayā hai aur yihī gomago to kyūñkar ho
tumhīñ kaho kih guzārā sanam-parastoñ kā
butoñ kī ho agar aisī hī ḳho to kyūñkar ho
ulajhte ho tum agar dekhte ho āʾīnah
jo tum se shahr meñ hoñ ek do to kyūñkar ho
jise naṣīb ho roz-e siyāh merā sā
vuh shaḳhṣ din nah kahe rāt ko to kyūñkar ho
hameñ phir un se umīd aur uñheñ hamārī qadr
hamārī bāt hī pūchheñ nah vo to kyūñkar ho
ġhalat̤ nah thā hameñ ḳhat̤ par gumāñ tasallī kā
nah māne dīdah-e dīdār-jo to kyūñkar ho



mujhe junuu;N nahii;N ;Gaalib vale bah qaul-e ;hu.zuur

firaaq-e yaar me;N taskiin ho to kyuu;Nkar ho

Tuesday, 17 December 2013

Ghalib 55

لو ہم مریضِ عشق کے بیمار دار ہیں
اچّھا اگر نہ ہو تو مسیحا کا کیا علاج

Lo! Love's invalids, our lot to curse
  Christ we cure, ourselves to nurse

Saturday, 19 October 2013

Ghalib- ghazal 75



ruḳh-e nigār se hai soz-e jāvidānī-e shamʿa
huʾī hai ātish-e gul āb-e zindagānī-e shamʿa

zabān-e ahl-e zabāñ meñ hai marg ḳhāmoshī
yih bāt bazm meñ raushan huʾī zabānī-e shamʿa

kare hai ṣirf bah ʿīmā-e shuʿlah qiṣṣah tamām
bah t̤arz-e ahl-e fanā hai fasānah-ḳhvānī-e shamʿa

ġham us ko ḥasrat-e parvānah kā hai ay shuʿle
tire larazne se z̤āhir hai nā-tavānī-e shamʿa

nashāt̤-e dāġh-e ġham-e ʿishq kī bahār nah pūchh
shiguftagī hai shahīd-e gul-e ḳhizānī-e shamʿa

That it licks her eucharistic blush for aye burns the candle
The Rose's auto da fe to elixir turns the candle.

 When Poet's converse, Silence is such a Scandal
Death caps our verse in the tongue of the candle

Completing the campfire tale only the Caravan's Khizr can handle
Already Nirvana is the wick of the flickering of the candle

Grief thy lone lap the moth's posterity to dandle
 Only the weak tremble at wrath's austerity, O candle

Weep, wounded poppy, for Love is so vernal a Vandal
A bloom martyred bud is the autumn of the candle

Saturday, 20 July 2013

Is Poetry Universal?- a gristly verse of Mir


Is poetry Universal?
Stupidity, we know, is universal and poetry, we have been taught, is what stupid people now go in for to make believe they are smart.
Over the last 40 years, Translations, of the best American Academic type- and 22,000 new M.F.A's add more to the pool every decade- have indeed made poetry Universal in this special sense. Great energy and enterprise has been devoted to this end. Suppose the Jodrell Bank radio telescope detects a transmission of alien poetry from some distant Galaxy. It will be seamlessly translated into shit long before it is even deciphered. The same thing will happen after it is deciphered. Thus, a Globalized translation industry has already yielded us a Universalized poetry. Advanced Galactic Civilizations have banned contact with less developed planets precisely for this reason. They too have Academic poetry translators just itching for something 'primitive' to vomit all over.

Theology was once the Universal form of Stupidity and that was cool because, if you think about it, God makes us stupid.
But, Poetry?
It used to be the thing that knit the people of an oikumene together.
I guess that's more profitably done by S.U.V's and Shopping Malls.
Since India now has plenty of both, what is the point of Poetry? One answer, I think, is that with the aid of distinguished Globalised academics, people belonging to different Religions from different parts of India can at last come to despise everything venerable possessed by each other as worthless shite .
How? Why? Academic translations of and commentaries on great vernacular poets focus entirely on proving not just the poets themselves, but their entire intellectual milieu, to have been utterly stupid. 
In the past, we had to take the savants at their word when they assured us that our great poets were incorrigible fuckwits. Now, thanks to Google search, we can find things out for ourselves and discover that the reverse is the case. The great poets of other religions, other times, other languages were just so-oooo much smarter, wiser, more sophisticated in their thinking than we can ever hope to be.

Look at this ghazal of Mir Taqi Mir's-
                                      - 'vājib kā ho nah mumkin maṣdar ṣifat ṡanā kā/
                                           qudrat se us kī lab par nām āve hai ḳhudā kā 
The first line is difficult to make sense of because there is a word-play involvng Arabic grammatical terminology- but it means something like-  Though necessary (for salvation), finding the source of ecstatic praise of the name and attributes of God is highly improbable.
The second line is limpid-  'By the power of Nature, the name of God has come upon her lips'- which is what happens in my erotic reveries featuring hotties like Angela Merkel & Nancy Pelosi who, notwithstanding the Satanic origin of their Socialist beliefs, nevertheless cry out the name of Our Saviour in the throes of passion.
The second couplet of the ghazal is-
Every hair of my body is horripilated by the jaundice of Grief. The dust print on my shroud is the map of which gold mine? - i.e. Grief has turned me into the Gold mine sought by Mystical Alchemy but rather than my gaining immortality or the status of the perfect man, I am a sort of reverse Midas, deadened by what most touches me.
A gold mine is similar to 'masdar'- which means 'source' and, in grammar, is the basic verbal noun from which everything else is derived. God, of course, is the source of all things and it is our duty to praise Him both formally and ecstatically. However, to experience ecstasy while calling out the name of God is not a duty we can discharge simply out of a sense of obligation. It is a halachah vein morin kein. The knowledge that it is necessary for us forecloses the path to its fulfilment. This isn't a case of 'fake it till you make it'. What's totally unfair is that Tyrannical hotties, though thoroughgoing Satanic Socialists, like Merkel & Pelosi, nevertheless are saved, at least in our wet dreams of them, coz they're all like thrashing about screaming 'O God, O God, O God, O GOD!'
In Arabic, I'm guessing, this would be 'Subhan-allah!' which is interesting because there is a doubt as to whether the word Subhan (Glory) is a verbal noun derived from a 3 letter root in the typical way, or if it is 'ismul masdar' without such a root.
Q: Is Subhān (Glory) a Masdar or Ismul-Masdar? In other words is this word a state of something in and of itself, or is it extracted from an actual verb?

A: The learned sages inclined towards both options, some said Subhānallāh (Glory for Allah) is Masdar a verbal noun extracted from the verb Sabaha and some others said Subhānallāh (Glory for Allah) is an Ismul-Masdar again a verbal noun though it is not extracted from any verb i.e. Subhān (Praise) is a Hāla (State) of Wujud (Being) and has no verbal equivalent. 

This shows that the 'sana' in the first line of the couplet (which means praise not necessarily directed at the Deity but which might focus on His attributes) gives us a clue as to in what form the 'name of God has come upon her lips'. If she has said 'Subhanallah' then she has, in a sense, achieved a mystical station (Hala) within the hidden hierarchy of Being (Wujud) which is God. However, our contemplation of this, far from pleasing us sensually by allowing us to glimpse 'the lineaments of gratified desire' has had the opposite effect- we have become the reverse Midas of what most touches us and perish of that Grief whose alchemy impoverishes the slave while permitting the tyrant to climb higher in the chain of Being.
Which is like toooootally unfair.

The Tetragrammaton, to me taunt,  upon her wanton lips
 Appears Salvation's font in Oneiric apocalypse
So jaundiced by what most touches me
I am the Midas of Grief's alchemy

Okay, mebbe that's a bit crap, still it's an attempt to highlight what is interesting here- viz. a dry as dust deontological issue of a substantivist Theological type being re-cast in highly wrought relationist terms, that too within a wholly transgressive erotic mise en scene.

But what I have written above is quite worthless. It is not Academic. It is not Universal. 

Prof. Pritchett & Prof.S.R. Faruqi's commentary on this 'gristly verse of Mir's'.
The salient points are
1) vajib is taken to be 'a thing without which something else cannot exist'- i.e. something necessary rather than contingent.
On this reading, Faruqi treats this couplet as straightforward speculative Metaphysics of a Universal kind. Following him, albeit with some reservations, Pritchett gives us this-
1) the necessary wouldn't [be able to] be contingent, like praise of the origin/source,
2) through that one's nature/Power, on the lip the name of the Lord comes
This may be meaningful- precisely because it is 'Universal'- to Academic or American translators- they write worse everyday- but, to me, it is not intelligible,or indeed recognizable as being related to Mir's couplet.
Vajib, for a cultured and devout Muslim from a Hanafi majority country- or indeed a Hindu from that country- must mean something more than 'necessary'. It is that type of duty which isn't made absolutely clear and unambiguous and which thus requires some hermeneutic effort or imaginative engagement on our part. 
'If there is a binding demand from the lawgiver to do something, it is wazib. However, the Hanafi's consider the demand Fard when both text and the meaning are definitive (qati) and wazib when either the text or meaning is speculative (Zanni - because liable to interpretation of meaning or investigation of authenticity). Difference between Fard and Wazib has important consequence. Denial of binding nature of a command established by definitive proof (Fard by Qati evidence) leads to unbelief. However, denial of Wazib (according to Hanafi's) or 2nd category of Fard (according to the majority) lead to transgression (Fisq).'
(Shah Abdul Hannan, quoted from 'Usul al-Fiqh') 
An Urdu speaking Muslim, I'm guessing, wouldn't even need to look up Google, the way I had to, to clarify this. He'd already know about the farz/ vajib distinction. Still, if he is an academic, he will still write shite by way of translation or commentary because that is more 'Universal' and smart people can't be bothered with what is merely local and particular. Instead, they have to show that Indian poets were primitive and incapable of reasoning properly and thus truly Universal. It gives a frisson of self-recognition- Caliban glimpsing himself in the looking glass- to the truly primitive fuckwits of the American Academy.
Still, they are only doing their vajib duty. Yet, might there not be a better way?

Suppose you work for McDonalds. A crystal clear duty (farz) is a statement like 'wash your hands after going to the bathroom'. There's no scope for quibbling because there are no two ways about it. If you deny that this duty is obligatory, you will be sacked. However, a duty like 'greet the customers in a cheerful and friendly way', leaves scope for interpretation and imagination and hence can be called 'vajib'.
 An employee of McDonalds who is passionate about her job may greet an elderly office worker like myself with a degree of archness vastly agreeable to me personally but which gives offence when directed at young, cross dressing, prostitutes like Ramachandra or Ranajit Guha. Clearly, duty of the wajib type is something one should be so passionate about that even more or less perilous experimentation in its discharge amounts to trespass merely- not malicious treachery or outright treason.
To take a case in point; the first time the young lady at the local McD greeted me with 'Look what the cat dragged in! Busy night dear?'- I might have resented the implication that I was a broken down lady of the night driven from the streets by Dawn's unforgiving light- more especially as, in dispensing me the extra sachets of butter I'd requested, she shuddered with revulsion and said 'I know what you use those for!'  Ramachandra & Ranajit Guha, on the other hand, precisely because they genuinely are cross-dressing prostitutes, greatly object to such treatment which, BTW, explains their animus against 'Globalised Capitalism'.
2) Faruqi takes 'sifat' as 'likeness' rather than a metonymy for the theology of Tawhid asma wa sifat- i.e. uniqueness of God's name and attributes- as expressed in ecstatic sifat sanaa- 'praise of the attributes' which can form part of the Sama Musical repertoire of a devout Sufi and serve as a preparation for recognizing the true haqiqa Muhammadi of the age.
Currently, there is some controversy as to whether such practices are permissible or whether they shade into a polytheistic cult of miracle working Saints.
However, for the poet, there can be no doubt that the duty to praise the Lord includes an artistic licence for passionate hermeneutic investigation and semantic experimentation.
3)  Faruqi reads 'masdar' in a univocal and universalist manner. God is the source and return of everything. However, in Islamic philosophy, there is a distinction between 'haqiqi' and 'majazi' such that only what is essential and inerrant in a duty performed returns to the source. Thus, the girl at McD who wordlessly passes me extra napkins with a gesture indicating I should use them to bulk out my cleavage in the hope of at last attracting a customer, is neither the source nor place of return of this sympathetic and friendly gesture because, having no other concern but to correctly discharge her duty, it is only McD's own corporate ethos and success in training its staff which originates, i.e. inculcates, the gesture and, tipping being prohibited, which gathers in the entirety of the continuing stream of profit which that repeated gesture gives rise to every morning.

Pritchett writes 'ṡanā kā maṣdar ṣifat = like the source/origin/ground of praise. Apparently the ṣifat has to apply to the whole phrase ṣanā kā maṣdar , because if we try anything else that annoying kā is left just sticking out impossibly. Faruqi Sahib says- 'The idea is that just as the maṣdar of all substances (that is, their origin, the place to which they all have to return-- that is, the place beyond which there's nothing-- that is, the Lord) is necessary, in the same way praise of the maṣdar (that is, praise of the Lord) too is necessary (that is, necessary in its own essence, not dependent for its existence on any other thing). And when that is necessary, then we cannot express it by means of words (which are only contingent, because their existence is dependent on something else).'
My response is- '' sana ka masdar sifat' is illiterate- i.e. corresponds to no collocation. In any case, is it really true that sana (praise not necessarily restricted to the Deity) has a masdar in God? Does God do sana of anything?
Mir wasn't illiterate. Nor was he a dark Theologian.  What he is talking about is sana-e-sifat- which, for euphony, becomes 'sifat sana'- praise, or ecstatic contemplation, of the attributes, a stage in Sufi mystical praxis.
Pritchett's commentary draws attention to the two ka's in the first line. One way of applying her 'meaning-machine' method is to think of the ka in 'Vajib ka' as an example of what Pierce calls 'hypostatic abstraction' by which an adjective or predicate- 'honey is sweet' - turns into an extra subject- sweetness is possessed by honey-, thus increasing by one the number of "subject" slots -- called the arity or adicity -- of the main predicate.
'In this case an izafati construction- namely vajib-e-namumkin- has been broken up into vajib ka nah mumkin which by itself does sound awkward. The meaning however is clear. What is being denominated is the class of acts which, though necessary to Salvation, are not univocally obligatory such that failure to perform them can be recognized without ambiguity. In other words, something necessary is also multiply realizable such that entailment becomes ambiguous because the Piercian arity is either impredicative, fractal or impredicatively fractal but in any case inexact. For acts which are 'farz' but not vajib, not only is it the case that the acts are possible but those acts must necessarily come to be for those who are Saved and thus God is their source and place of return (masdar). Let us suppose it is necessary to say 'Allah hu' to be Saved. Clearly, Frances Pritchett is predestined to be Saved. Hence, during the course of her Doctoral viva voce (what? Jus' coz the Rector of the LSE personally altered my diploma certificate to read 'Confirmed Bachelor of Arts' don't mean I iz totally ignorant of what PhD types get up to) when the examiner said 'Knock Knock' and l'il Franny Pritchett replied 'Who's there?' and the examiner said 'Allah' what happened next was predestined and as such its source and return was with God alone. However, notice that li'l Fran (whom I picture in a pinafore and pig-tails so as not to give way to lubricious thoughts) is not saying 'Allah hu' such that the sifat ('Hu') agrees with the mausuf (subject) derived from the ism masdar (derived noun) 'Allah'. 
'Rather, she is saying 'Allah who?' in which statement there is no sifat at all. By no stretch of the imagination can she be said to have completed a vajib-e-mumkin type of action. The intentionality is lacking, hence her utterance does not have the grammatical property of correct deployment of sifat. Yet, equally clearly, if not more so, l'il Fran is nonetheless saved precisely because God has not merely commanded (amr) but also provided the material ground for the requisite action to be completed (khalq). This is a case where God is both the source and place of return of the occurrence.'
'Prof. Farqui appears to be making a mistake- pardonable because he actually studied Arabic instead of reading Archie Comics in the back row with the cool kids; the Mullah having been either bribed or intimidated to look the other way- by thinking that masdar can be the mausuf of sifat in this context. It can't. That's shirk. It's the doctrine of hypostatic union by which the Christians worked their own damnation at Ephesus.'
Faruqi, by neglecting the specifically Islamic meaning of Mir's words has ended up talking nonsense.
IF God taught Adam the names of things and in any case the Quran is uncreated, why should words be only contingent?
I had a hazy sort of idea that Faruqi Sahib follows Al Jurjani- as opposed to Al Rummani- because he insists on strict compositionality whereas Rummani allows tazmin w.r.t. Revelation - i.e. use of a Quranic word- to be endophorically unrestricted by the rest of the sentence it appears in. In other words, the Quranic word occurring in a secular text yet continues to participate in its own 'masdar' such that the latter proves increasingly more real (haqiqi) while the former's trajectory becomes more and more phantasmal and spectral (majazi) in the same manner that this dervish's all cloaking mist of a winter's morning turns abruptly into the choking collar of a lice ridden khirka with the flinging of the baksheesh of a single, solar, Rupee of Light.
Or doesn't, coz I'm still in bed with a hangover brought on by drinking up my settlement from McD.
Be that as it may, what is of salience here, irrespective of the precise chirality of my spiritual squalor, there is nothing in Jurjani, or indeed any other authority, to license what Faruqi has written.
Excluding the Hanafi meaning of vajib, let us look again at the couplet.
vājib kā ho nah mumkin maṣdar ṣifat ṡanā kā
qudrat se us kī lab par nām āve hai ḳhudā kā
Regarding 'sifat sana ka masdar'- that 'masdar' praised in sifat sana- i.e. the ecstatic practice of praising God as the source and return of the devotee's own piety (which is passionate Love) - it is not possible to say it is part of vajib (i.e. what is necessarily entailed in the manner of a crystal clear duty), yet we see that 'by Nature' the name of the Lord has come upon the lips of the Beloved.
Suppose Mayor McCheese receives a complaint against the girl who serves me my Big Breakfast.
Angrily he upbraids her- 'Why are you pretending that an elderly Tambram office worker is actually a low class prostitute? It is against Company policy. What you are supposed to say is 'Thank you. Have a nice day' not 'Now get the fuck out of here, you diseased old ho-bag.'
'Did I say that?' the tear-stricken girl plaintively replies, 'I have no memory of it. Filled with the spirit of McD what I uttered I know not. Greatly have I sinned. I shall go and commit suicide by eating a whole bucket full of KFC.'
'Wait!' says Mcburglar, 'All these years I have been lurking in the shadows trying to steal cheese burgers. Yet, by the intercession of, the Blessed Thief. McDysmas, this Grace has been vouchsafed me- I saw with my own eyes the McAngel of the Lord descend into this humble vessel you see before you. It was McAngel who spoke through the lips of this handmaiden of the Corporation.'
'But,' says Mayor McCheese, 'How is it possible (mumkin)? Something which is vajib (a necessary duty) must surely be univocal?'
'Nay' spake the McAngel through the lips of a seated customer, 'univocity can be multiply realizable, indeed must be so- otherwise not only is deontics empty but so is alethics as a Globalizable brand. Just as 'Have a nice day' means 'Get the fuck out of here you ugly old ho-bag' when applied to a middle aged Tambram cross-dressing prostitutes like Ramachandra Guha or Sanjay Subhramanyam, so too does the opposite hold when addressing elderly, not cross-dressing at all, Tambram office workers. 'Everybody knows this. Now just Mckindly fuck off and let me finish my Big Breakfast while availing of your free wi-fi to update my blog.'

If not for McDonald's, then certainly for Islam, granted that what we know to be necessary (vajib) does not entail praise of the source of attributes, nevertheless, by nature rather than pious reason, we constantly observe that the name of God has come to the Beloved's lips.
Mumkin, in the philosophical sense, means that which is possible but which carries no entailment properties. A mountain of gold is possible but its actual existence is not entailed nor is anything from us with respect to it demanded or required. I am not religiously obligated to deny it exists or to go looking for it or to buy bonds issued by its prospector.
Mumkin in the ordinary sense would give us- 'Just from what we know to be necessary for our salvation it is not probable that the ecstatic practice of praise of the name and attributes could take its origin or find its completion in God (i.e. the attributes are more like prosopoi and thus no hesychastic practice is essential for Salvation for the reason given by Barlaam of Calabria) .'
 In other words, the devotional practice under discussion is supererogatory. In the second line, the proof is given- The name of God came upon her lips- how? Not from what she considers necessary for her salvation, but because Nature itself, when in ecstasy, cries out the name of God.
True, Faruqi Sahib reads masdar and sifat as having a grammatical meaning and holds that we can't change the necessary into the contingent.
However, the conventional view is
1) It is shirk to say masdar of all substances is necessary.
Piercian hypostatic abstraction is a feature of all languages, formal or otherwise. No entailment of prosopoi or hypostases arises- indeed it is specifically guarded against in Hanafi Islam.
2) It is bida to say praise of masdar is necessary.
When did Caliph Omar do praise of masdar? Show the grounds of likelihood that any significant percentage of the Sahiban did so. Why is it not mentioned in the Sahih hadith of Bukhari?
3) It is ridda to say that words- including those found in the Quran- are only contingent.
In the Quran, unlike the Bible, Allah reveals the names of things to Adam. Even the Mutazilites didn't consider tazmin of Quranic words to suffer the defect of contingency.
Nevertheless, Faruqi Sahib says- 'The simple meaning is that praise of the Lord is impossible/non-contingent [naa-mumkin]. The interpretation of vaajib kaa mumkin nah ho is that vaajib kaa mumkin nahii;N ho saktaa . Here kaa has been used in an extremely fine way. For example, they say aadhe kaa puuraa nahii;N ho saktaa ; that is, the thing that is half cannot become whole.'
So- let's see if we understand you right, Faruqi Sahib. Mir's 'simple meaning' is, just as half can't become whole, so too Religious duty is impossible to perform. Why? Because God is a bastard/ Gimme pork with  mustard.
What is the fucking point of reading a fucking Urdu poet from North fucking India if that's the level of his thought?
Is it really impossible to perform namaz, keep roza, go for Hajj? Maybe for stupid North Indian Urdu speakers. Tamil Muslims face no such difficulty.
But, it is a fact that a pious young Tamil Muslim, A.R. Rehman, shows great veneration for great Urdu poets like Mir. So, I think the simpler explanation is that Faruqi is wrong about this couplet which means- granted, the ecstatic Sufi practice of 'praise of the attributes' is not a supererogatory religious duty or hallmark of Salvation such as God has to exert himself to bring about to fulfill His plan of predestination- nevertheless, as if to prove the contrary, such and such has occurred.
What precisely?
qudrat se us kii lab par naam aave hai khudaa kaa
By the power of Nature (which was Created by God) the name of God has come on that person's lips.
Faruqi Sahib says next-
'In the second line he has said that if the name of the Lord comes to our lips, then this too is through the power of the Lord.'
But Mir hasn't said 'if the name of the Lord comes to our lips'. I'm no scholar but 'us ki' means 'to that person' not 'to us'. But who is 'that person' in the context of the Ghazal? It is the tyrant/beloved. When does the word 'God' come to the lips quite spontaneously or as if from Nature itself? The answer, of course- if you will pardon my coarseness- is in the throes of ecstasy.

Prof Faruqi says- Without the power of the Lord it is not possible that His name comes to the lips. If the Lord would not so wish, or the Lord would not exert his power, then what capacity does mankind have to invoke His name? The meaning of lab par naam aanaa can also be, in addition to 'to mention', 'to remember'. Now the interpretation emerges that if we remember the Lord, then this is His power. For khudaa ki qudrat there are three meanings. One is the one that has been mentioned above, that this is an expression of the Lord's power. Reference has also been made to the second meaning, that if the Lord so wills, only then can we bring his name to our lips. The third meaning is exclamatory, that if his name comes upon our lips, then that is his power. That is, that if even deaf-mutes like us, or even sinners like us, remember him and mention him, then if this isn't the power of the Lord, then what is it?
Moreover, in the whole line is hidden the meaning that if the Lord's name comes to our lips only through the will of the Lord himself, then if we don't remember him, what sin do we commit? To encompass so many meanings within a verse of praise [;hamd] is a difficulty fit for Mir alone. On the basis of its fineness of meaning, the troublesome entanglement of the first line (or rather its weakness of poetic structure [na:zm], which is very rare in Mir) becomes acceptable.
The problem here is that Faruqi is missing out all the philosophical subtlety in Islam and thus reducing Mir's couplet to imbecility and antinomianism of a cliched, Orientalist, Omar Khayyam type. It is sheer imbecility for a Muslim to say 'if we don't remember the Lord (i.e. pray regularly) then we don't commit any sin'. This is like saying 'If I don't wash my hands after going to the toilet, I don't breach McD's code of conduct. They have no right to sack me. Why? Because they have the power to force their employees to wash their hands after taking a dump. Yet, I was an employee when I took the dump. I was still an employee when I failed to wash my hands. Only after I emerged from the bathroom with shit stained hands was I sacked. No failure of mine occurred. The failure was McDonald's. They didn't use their power to make me wash my hands while I was still in the bathroom.'
Faruqi's reading of this couplet cashes out as
1) Mir was stupid. If he thought he was a Muslim it was only because he was a stupid Indian donkey.
2) Mir wasn't a Muslim. He was just too cowardly to come out and say so.

Faruqi also misses out what is poetic about the second line- thus, on his reading, not only is Mir stupid and not Muslim, he is also not a poet.
The fact is people who cry out 'Jesus Christ!' or 'Sarah Palin!' while in the throes of passion- pace Faruqi- aren't actually 'remembering' God, nor is it a type of prayer which the Lord himself must exert his omnipotence to specifically bring about. This is because, though 'remembering God' even at the moment of orgasm may indeed be a necessary part of one's self surrender to the Deity it is 'vajib-e-mumkin' something possible and perhaps deontically enjoined but carrying no entailment property such that God necessarily causes it to occur.
Pritchett writes- The first half of the first line is in fact doubly confusing because the normal, least-marked meaning of mumkin is not 'contingent' (in a philosophical sense) but 'possible', in a plain everyday sense, so that nah mumkin readily suggests naa-mumkin , 'impossible'. The reader's mind plays with ways that some necessary thing might prove also to be impossible, a (Ghalib-like) paradox so enjoyable that it's hard to let go of it. But that kaa does do what SRF says-- it makes the expression idiomatic, since normally an adjective like vaajib simply won't have a kaa after it. It forces the expression to become, 'to make OF the necessary, the contingent' and denies us the chance to read 'the necessary would not be possible'.
This is quite foolish. A necessary thing which proves impossible is simply an instance of an axiom system being shown to be inconsistent. It is something a priori known to be wrong. There is no question of 'the mind playing about' in this arena. If you do the sum 5 plus 10 on your calculator and you get back 'battery low' on the screen your mind does not play around with stuff. No gorgeous Ghalibian paradoxes arise. You just put in new batteries.
Why is Pritchett compelled to utter such idiocy? It is because she does not understand that vajib can mean something highly specific in the poetry of a Hanafi majority country- viz. a type of duty which is essentially poetic. With respect to that type of duty, granted there is no necessary entailment of a particular ecstatic Sufi practice founded upon something which, in Christendom, we might link with prosopoi and hesychasm, yet nevertheless, is it not remarkable that, in reverie, we see Nature itself wringing from her lips the cry 'O God!'

What's wrong with saying Mir or Ghalib or whoever was a Muslim? What's wrong with saying Urdu is a proper Muslim language? Are you worried that this hands an easy victory to illiterate, N.R.I, Hindutva nutjobs like me?  If so, it still behooves you to give the hate-mongers a walkover every-time on those questions where they are logically in the right. Not to do so damages the ethos of what you seek to defend. Moreover, our nature, of itself, is brisk to beat anyone who thinks being Right creates Might- so that's entirely forgivable.
What is unforgivable is treating dead Brown Men as illiterate imbeciles unable to profit by the philosophical hermeneutics of the very traditions they enriched.  Why? Because them Dead Brown Chaps were good poets- at least in comparison with the merely brain-dead Brown person who is writing this-

If prayer & fasting is to our back a rod
Must Nature in ecstasy cry out 'God!'?
Upon Men, Mercy, Mystics explain
 Love is the crutch of Tamburlane

Sunday, 9 June 2013

What co-evolves with language?

Consider the following bromide.
'As with flowers and the bees, so too does true poetry co-evolve with what pollinates it.'
The conceit is obvious enough- poetry is like a flower-bed to which the connoisseur returns to gather nectar. In the process, cross-pollination occurs and though the poet dies and the gibbet of his thwarted passions crumbles to dust, yet, his poetry, having reproduced itself, has gone forward, with shifting associations and shiftless associates, aboard a drifting raft of goliard vagabondage, across the ravaged centuries and pillaged wastelands of the heart.

Might there be something more to this hackneyed image? Or, precisely because it is so hackneyed, might that something not be everything? Consider, for a moment, the text, 'Blessed are those who mourn for they will be comforted' and though what is summoned to our comfort bear but the ashes of our Eden- is not what is Truly Divine the knowledge that this Paraclete began its career as an Athenian  ambulance chaser?

So chastening a reflection naturally prompts the question- what co-evolves with our language such that Reception is canalized whereas Expression accumulates capacitance diversity? Well, abstracting from the brain, presumably we are talking of that portion of our Baldwinianly evolved ethology which militates for an increase in the frequency and salience of mutuality type contexts. The pay off for diverse expression is discharge without costly filtering while the pay off for narrow, canalised, Reception is more frequent reinforcement- bis repetita placent- without costly processing.
This suggests that information isn't being thrown away by the solution to Symbolic Communication's underlying co-ordination problem and that the cost of conserving this information is minimized by the way it is shared between Language and its co-evolved ethology.
Before enquiring what that might imply, it's worth pondering whether Language can without decoherence describe, once again abstracting from the brain, what co-evolves with it, as distinct from the wider fitness landscape. If it can, well and good. Science may be interested in that project for some reason of its own, but surely Philosophy and Poetry aren't particularly affected no matter how that story pans out. 
On the other hand, if what co-evolves with our language is precisely that unthought known which inscribes its limits- towards which words can gesture but no further venture- this is the bizarre limbo of meta-metaphoricity- then we have something interesting and, it may be, comparative literature, or comparative philosophy, can offer us insights otherwise inaccessible- except, of course, literature and philosophy are always already comparative by reason of their co-evolution with what pollinates them- thus what we have here is an owl of Minerva whose abortive flight takes wing with, not the inky seepage of night, but the brisk syzygy of eclipse.
Why this matters is because there is a notion that autonomy consists in regulating one's actions by a principle and that the meaning individuals have- what they signify and, even in absence, illocute or illumine- is precisely the golden thread running through all they suffered and spoke or wrought and rued.
Here, clearly, if the categorical imperative can be named and formulated with more or less fine graining, then it can generate a universalist deontics whose aporias only await some advance in logic or further assemblage of evidence such that something seamless and harmoniously constructed is presented to us. In a sense, to oneself espouse such a principle is to put oneself, if not immediately then sooner or later, in a position superior to Pragmatics-as-Negotiation, or Meaning-as-Work,  albeit by at first incarnating a but 'Noble Lie' yet eventually, and it may be by that very imposture, achieving that Inedia which is Omniscience in that wholly buffered from everything else, one is at last an unmoved mover, and thus the limit of Knowledge which, after all, is instrumental merely.
Currently, as far as I know, people are welcome to believe something along these lines so long as they are cowards or subscribe to a non-aggression principle. This is because a would be unmoved mover, for whom discretion isn't the better part of valour, would soon find himself being moved along by a swift kick in the pants.
This raises the question of whether we, as a Liberal Society, ought to permit, or indeed publicly subsidise, inculcation in an Intellectual Inedia which parallels indoctrination in physical anorexia as, not an outward sign of inward Grace, but a reversal of inward and outward such that what is available to be seen is those inward organs of digestion and excretion which, having nothing to reproach themselves with, can appear in their emptiness as the immaculate sheath of the body's withering stalk from which emerge two famished head lamps- signifying Virtue and Beauty- vomiting a baleful light.
One important reason to say yes, or, going a step further, to become a connoisseur of the hunger artists of the Djikstra deadlocked Humanities, is that, if what co-evolves with Language is its limit, then to us is accorded a destiny higher than that of plunder or propagation because, becoming the earth of that flower-bed, we yet with Meaning aren't done, save that ontologically dysphoric feeling of being alien plants on this planet gaining no nourishment from this Sun.
This gives an ironic twist to-
Guard the Garden, Ghalib, the bees attacks to defeat
The moth too is martyred by the wax they secrete!