Epilogue

At the end of his life Ghalib writes,
'Apart from Allah all is vague and non-
existent.    There is no poetry and no poet,
no ode and no ode writer.    Nothing
exists except God.'

It seems to me the only god in this
book is in the poem, i.e., it is the poem
itself.

Ghalib also writes: 'Whatever happens to
the mystic is good for his soul.'
A comment on this is that madness is
but the last stage of longing be it
for justice (the rage for it turning
into violence) or for love as with
the beloved and blessed Sufi, Majnun.