It's Thursday. Which means it's almost Friday. And yesterday Asya and I met for happy hour instead of going to Will's class, which I was trying to justify, when I came across this poem by the Indian master-poet, Ghalib. I think he'd understand...
For Tomorrow's Sake, Don't Skimp With Me On Wine Today
Translated by Agha Shahid Ali
For tomorrow's sake, don't skimp with me on wine today.
A stingy portion implies a suspicion of heaven's abundance.
The horse of life is galloping; we'll never know the stopping place.
Our hands are not touching the reins, nor our feet the stirrups.
I keep a certain distance from the reality of things.
It's the same distance between me and utter confusion.
The scene, the one looking, and the ability to see are all the same.
If that is so, why am I confused about what is in front of me?
The greatness of a river depends on its magnificent face.
If we break it into bubbles and drops and waves, we are lost.
She is not free from her ways to increase her beauty.
The mirror she sees is on the inside of her veil.
What we think is obvious is so far beyond our comprehension.
We are still dreaming even when we dream we are awake.
From the smell of my friend's friend I get the smell of my friend.
Listen, Ghalib, you are busy worshiping God's friend.