On the 11th of January a talk was organised by the London based Iranian society called "Society of promoting Persian language" and Afghan society of Culture and Art to celebrate the achievement of Mirza Assadullah Khan Ghalib as great Persian poet who lived in India.

Ghalib is the most famous poet of India and in some ways more celebrated than Tagor, especially among the Urdu speakers and musicians who make a compose on his ghazals.

Mirza Asadullah Ghalib is equivalent of Shakespeare in Indian subcontinent and yet not known in Persian speaker countries such as Tajikistan, Afghanistan and Iran

Most of his life he lived dealing with financial problems and debts. These financial problems put him at the wrong side of justice and he served imprisonment at least twice.

His poetry and writing however continued even in those hard times and reached many people in all Indian subcontinents.

Ghalib was borne at the wrong time because it was the period that the British were heavily involved in shaping the Indian literature replacing Persian language with English language as the official language of India. This policy affected Ghalib negatively especially that he continued to write in Farsi and wanted to be reckoned as the best Farsi poet of his time.

His love of Farsi is known from his works. He created much more Farsi works than Urdu.

Bashir Sakhawarz an author of many articles on Mirza Asadullah Khan Ghalib delivered a talk on the life and works of Ghalib. He also concentrated on the time that Ghalib was borne. He is from Afghanistan living in UK. His talk was well received and generated a lively discussion at the end.

Bashir Sakhawarz is also a poet and writer in his own right and he has published two book of poetry and one book of essays. In 1979 he was awarded the best writer of the year in Afghanistan .

Ghazal (one)

My pain would reckon no potion,
I didn't heal, I wasn't worse.

Why do you gather around you my rivals?
Why turn my complaint into public show?

Where can I go to meet my fate?
When you refuse to draw your sword?

Was it the world of God or Nimrod?
Unrequited my worship lay.

Ghazal (two)

I again recall those tearful eyes,
My complaining heart is brimming again.

Hardly had the doom receded,
When the thought of parting rose again.

How naïve is my heart
I gain crave that tantalizing face.

This life, somehow, would have passed
But why do I seek your favoured path again?