Alas, fate made the fingers of those people, whose fingers were worthy of wearing strings of pearls, the sustenance for teeth.

Ah, my friend, Ghalib often captures life's bittersweet ironies with such profound grace. He laments, with a deep 'Afsos' or regret, when 'falak'—fate itself—plays a cruel hand. Imagine, he says, someone whose 'angusht'—their very fingers—truly deserve strings of pearls. These are individuals destined for beauty, for art, or perhaps for noble leadership. Yet, destiny makes their 'dandaan'—their teeth, a symbol of primal hunger—their only 'rizq', their sole sustenance. It means they're forced into a brutal, daily struggle, just to literally chew their way through life. Their potential, meant for creation and refinement, is consumed by the raw fight for survival. It's a poignant cry against the universe's indifference, a lament for genius tragically wasted. This verse highlights the crushing injustice when true talent is stifled by harsh reality.