#24 Journeying Beyond the Horizons with Allama Iqbal - In Conversation with Humaira Masihuddin

Guest: Humaira Masihuddin

Humaira Masihuddin is a lawyer based in Islamabad and holds an LLM in Public International Law from the University of London, an LLB (Shariah and Law) from the International Islamic University, an MA in Cultural Anthropology from the University of Pittsburgh, USA, and an MSc in Criminal Justice Studies from the University of Leicester, UK. She is a criminologist and victimologist and has been visiting faculty at a number of law enforcement and security training schools, including Punjab Police College Sihala, Police Training School in Islamabad, Federal Police Academy, and the Federal Judicial Academy, as well as the Defence Services Academy.

She started judicial training in 2006 and has since then trained Family Court judges, Additional District and Sessions judges, ATC judges, and prosecutors in diverse subjects such as Therapeutic Jurisprudence, guardianship and custody issues, and women-specific legislation.

She has twenty-three years of experience as a trainer in the criminal justice system and, besides judges, has trained police officers, lawyers, prison staff, and investigators. She regularly imparts training on Theories of Criminality, Criminology of Violent Extremism and Terrorism, Interrogation, Victimology, Gender-Based Violence, Policing of Vulnerable Groups, and the Fundamental Rights in the Constitution of Pakistan. She also teaches on diverse topics such as Multiculturalism and Pluralism with special reference to Islamic teachings, Human Rights, and Rights of Minorities in Islam on various forums as part of her social engineering project.

Humaira has worked as a consultant on a wide range of issues for various organizations, including enabling environments for minorities in electoral and political processes. She was the Technical Advisor for the project Police Awam Saath Saath, where her assignments included sharing media products with police, lawyers, and others, and research on police heroes and best practices. Her work also extends to addressing sexual harassment in the workplace, procedural defects in laws related to offenses against religions, a comparative study of blasphemy laws in Pakistan, Iran, Bangladesh, and India, and issues like pluralism, trafficking, child sexual abuse, street children, and the prevention of HIV/AIDS.

Podcast Summary:

In this episode of The Hikmah Project Podcast, host Saqib Safdar warmly welcomes lawyer and scholar Humaira Masihuddin to explore the life and philosophy of one of the East's greatest visionaries—Allama Muhammad Iqbal. Saqib, a long-time admirer of Iqbal's work, introduces Humaira as an expert who has been studying and teaching Iqbal for over two decades. With degrees in law, anthropology, and Shariah, she brings a unique perspective to Iqbal's deep, multi-faceted thought.

The conversation spans Iqbal’s significant contributions to poetry, philosophy, and Islamic thought, focusing on his key concepts like Khudi (selfhood) and his deep spiritual connection to Rumi. Humaira discusses how Iqbal drew inspiration from the Qur'an, blending traditional Islamic values with a forward-looking vision to meet the challenges of modernity. She explains that Iqbal’s poetry is not just to be understood intellectually but felt deeply, as it touches the soul and offers universal insights.

Together, Saqib and Humaira recite and analyze some of Iqbal’s most poignant verses, bringing out their relevance to contemporary issues like nationalism and the Palestinian cause. Humaira highlights Iqbal’s role as a spiritual and philosophical leader whose timeless wisdom continues to inspire generations. She also shares personal anecdotes about how Iqbal's influence extended beyond the intellectual to deeply spiritual realms, resonating with anyone seeking to understand the profound relationship between humanity and the Divine.

The episode concludes with reflections on how to study Iqbal today, especially for younger generations who may lack access to the Urdu language but whose thirst for his teachings remains strong. Iqbal's message of self-actualization, love for the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH), and unity of the Muslim Ummah remains as relevant today as ever.

Transcript

Saqib : greetings, Assalamu Alaikum. Welcome, everyone. My name is Saqib, your host on The Hikmah Project Podcast. Today, we'll be talking about the great visionary, seer, poet, philosopher, and thinker from the East—Muhammad Iqbal. I've been a great fan and lover of his work for many years now, and have really been looking forward to doing something on him for The Hikmah Project. I was blessed and fortunate to have met Humera Nasihadin, a lawyer based in Islamabad, who is very widely read and studied. She holds degrees from the University of London, University of Pittsburgh, University of Leicester, and the International Islamic University in law, anthropology, and Sharia. She has been a student of Iqbal and has been teaching Iqbal for over two decades. When she recites Iqbal, her enthusiasm rubs off, and the poetry truly lands on the ear of the heart, leaving me ecstatic. This whole podcast has been a real treat for me. Just a few updates: we have launched a few membership plans, which you may want to check out on the website to help support us. Thank you to those who have helped make the entire website free so you can access all the content. Any support you can offer is greatly appreciated. In addition to the free plan, we now have supporting memberships, premier memberships, and elite memberships at various levels of support you may wish to provide. We are planning, hopefully, to do a course on Iqbal. More details on that will follow. Just a heads-up: in the podcast, the poetry is recited in Urdu and some in Persian, and we try to give a paraphrased translation or explanation of the poems. I’ll do my best to hyperlink the original poems with their translations in the podcast notes, which you should be able to find on the website. So without further ado, here’s the podcast.

02:56 Saqib: Welcome, Humera, to The Hikmah Project Podcast.

02:58 Humera: Thank you so much for having me, Saqib.

03:01 Saqib: It’s an absolute pleasure for me. It’s been a long-standing project of mine to explore Iqbal on The Hikmah Project, and I’m very grateful to you for giving your time and sharing, InshaAllah, your insights on Iqbal today.

03:19 Humera: I’m very happy to be on your program, truly.

03:21 Saqib: So let’s start by, maybe, if you could briefly share about your background and how you got into Iqbal?

03:31 Humera: My background is that I’m a lawyer, basically. I studied anthropology and criminology as well, so I sort of combined the three: law, anthropology, and criminology. I’ve been working as a consultant, a trainer, a teacher, and a lawyer. The major portion of my work has been as a trainer and consultant within the criminal justice system of Pakistan.

04:03 Saqib: Wow, amazing. So how did you then develop an interest in Iqbal? Has that been since childhood or more recent?

04:10 Humera: Actually, you know, Saqib, growing up in the 70s and 80s in Pakistan, you just grew up with Iqbal. It wasn’t like you got introduced to him at some point in your life. He was all around us. He was in our textbooks, in our formal and informal education. We had Shikwa and Jawab-e-Shikwa in our texts. We knew those poems by heart. He was also on national television—PTV. When you attended Republic Day parades, they would be reciting Iqbal. In fact, when the fighter jets would fly by, they would say:

"پلٹنا، جھپٹنا، جھپٹ کر پلٹنا

لہو گرم رکھنے کا ہے اک بہانہ"(Bāl-e-Jibrīl, 1935)

"To swoop, to strike, then to swoop again,

This is but a pretext to keep the blood warm."

There were so many verses of Iqbal that we never sat down to learn—they were just floating all around us. He was a favorite poet of our generation. People quoted him in debates and in our daily lives.

05:27 Saqib: You’ve taken it to another level, though. You run courses and give talks on Iqbal, and not many people of your generation have gone that extra step. What prompted that?

05:39 Humera: I used to read Iqbal for pleasure, and for Josh—you know, the word Josh. I don’t know how I would translate that word into English. To get inspired, you know? We used to read Iqbal for inspiration and for pleasure. But in 2003, I came across an amazing opportunity. A friend of mine, her husband had an FM radio station, and he wanted some good content creation. I jumped at the opportunity, and I think I did around 20 or more programs on that FM radio about Iqbal. Some of them were thematic, like his concept of Ishq, and some were based on his poems like Shikwa and Jawab-e-Shikwa. I remember I did Tulū-e-Islām in five segments. That was the first time I studied Iqbal seriously. I went out, got books—Kulliyat-e-Iqbal, commentaries by Rasheed Ahmad Jahan, and more. That was the first time I delved deeply into Iqbal.

07:56 Humera: And then, another moment came around 2010. A teacher approached me from the College of Medicine and asked me to design something for the medical students. I designed a workshop on Khudi—self-actualization. I took three passages from Iqbal’s works. One was from Zarb-e-Kalim, where Iqbal imagines a meeting with Khizr and asks, "What is the reality of life?" I used that passage to explore life’s meaning. Then I used Bāl-e-Jibrīl, taking passages about human potential. I also used some rubāʿiyāt on Khudi. This workshop was done annually with students from the College of Medicine, and from there, I continued to work with other youth groups and universities, helping to spread Iqbal’s teachings.

09:30 Saqib: And what’s their response been from this new generation?

09:33 Humaira: They are blown away. They are thirsting to study. And I feel so sorry for this generation. I don't say this looking down on them or anything—they are far ahead of us in so many ways. But, you know, I feel that when they introduced O Levels in Pakistan, our government, or some policy-making institution, or the Ministry of Education, should have given them some guidelines. These Western universities bring in courses and hold exams in Pakistan, but you can’t do this to our youth. Now, Urdu is just taught as a language at the O Level in Pakistan. There’s grammar, some translation, and a little bit of idioms (Mahavara and Mahaveri), but there is absolutely no literature. I was kind of surprised when Shikwa, Jawab-e-Shikwa was released by Coke Studio. I don’t know if you’ve seen that?

Saqib: Yeah.

Humaira: And a lot of our youth were so excited, saying, "Oh, I finally found out what Shikwa was all about." I sat them down and explained: this is syncretism. They have used some verses of Shikwa, Jawab-e-Shikwa in a Qawwali, but this is not Shikwa, Jawab-e-Shikwa. And they were like, “Really?” So, I had a session last year—I teach law, criminology, and Islamic law at an institution called TMUC. I invited my students over to my place, and we did a session on Rumi, and then we did a session on Shikwa, Jawab-e-Shikwa. They just soaked it up. They were so excited. They could not believe this is what it was. I feel so sorry because Iqbal is our treasure. He is our national treasure. He’s not just a national treasure—I think he’s an amazing figure who can offer so much to the world today, to the entire world. And yet, in Pakistan, we are being deprived of his amazing insights, his verses, his poetry. It’s a tragedy.

11:54 Saqib: Well, let’s see if we can explore some of those insights today with you, and InshaAllah, maybe open up channels for exploring his wisdom and his treasure in the future. Let’s begin, and I’ll ask you to share some of your favorite poems with us later on. But let’s set the scene first. I think listeners who are interested in learning about the autobiography of Iqbal—I’m sure there are many resources available online—so we won’t delve into that necessarily. But let me pose a question: Who is Iqbal? Is he merely a poet in the Urdu tradition alongside Mir and Faiz?

12:47 Saqib: Does he offer something more?

12:50 Saqib: Is he an Islamic thinker? I’m just setting up boxes here because I don’t think he fits into any of them strictly speaking, but I’m putting them out there. Is he an Islamic thinker? We know he wrote six lectures in The Reconstruction of Religious Thought in Islam and a stray notebook, which was published later. Was he an Islamic thinker in the line of Shah Waliullah Dehlavi, who was the first person to translate the Qur’an into Persian, looking for a way to meet the challenges of modernity? Or is he in the line of Sir Syed Ahmed Khan? Or was he a Sufi? Some of his verses, as I’m sure we’ll see, are very esoteric. He’s in dialogue with the Divine and says some really bold statements that wake you up or shake you to the core. Was he someone who had a fixation on the golden era of Islam? He has a lot to say. There's a verse coming—I better recite it. He says, and for the listeners, I’ll try to put a translation in the notes, or apologies if I can’t give you a translation right now, but:

تا خلافت کی بنا دنيا ميں ہو پھر استور

So that the foundation of the Caliphate may once again be firmly established in the world

لا کہيں سے ڈھونڈ کر اسلاف کا قلب و جگر

Seek out and bring back the heart and soul of your ancestors from somewhere

In these lines, Iqbal calls for the revival of the spirit and values of the early Muslim generations (the Aslaf), urging that only by rediscovering their courage, passion, and wisdom can the foundation of a true, strong Caliphate be re-established in the modern world.

Saqib: And so, he’s talking about Islam and its basis for transformation in the world. This idea of having a Khalifa or Khilafa—in order to carry that on, you need the heart and courage of the early ancestors. He has a lot to share on early Islamic history. But at the same time, he was someone who lived in the West, immersed himself in Western culture and civilization, and critiqued it quite insightfully. He has much to say about that. Or does he offer something else? There’s a realm of higher poetry, like that of Rumi, who is not just a poet but someone who offers an inspired state of poetry that becomes a universal language. It resonates with people of all different backgrounds, across different times and eras. So, those are some labels and boxes. Where do you see him? What does he mean to you?

15:40 Humaira: Each and every one of those labels and each and every one of those boxes—he is a historian. Oh, my goodness, the depth with which he looks at events and goes to the root causes. He is a philosopher. He is a linguist. I recently discovered, like last year, that he defended his PhD thesis in German, and that's a very difficult language to learn, and he was only in Europe for three years. Can you imagine? So, Punjabi, Urdu, English, Arabic, Persian, and German. This person is phenomenal. And he is not just a philosopher, you know, sitting in his room just coming up with ideas. He’s out there, fighting elections, walking on the roads of Lahore, getting elected to the Legislative Assembly—or was it a forum? It was one of those forums, I don't exactly remember the name of it, but he had to fight an election to be on that forum. He is all those things, and he's a teacher. He's a teacher. He started his career as a teacher. He was even a visiting lecturer at the University of London. He was filling in for someone and lecturing in Arabic. So, my goodness! And I was reading his biography, Saqib, and it was so amazing that his father and elder brother decided that he had so much potential, and they were not from a very rich family. So, they said, “We will fund his education,” and they put all their resources together. But Iqbal’s father put a condition. He said, “Your education should serve the Muslim cause. You should be able to serve your millat, your nation.” So, on his deathbed, when his father was dying, Iqbal went and asked him, “Was I able to do what you had asked me to do?” And his father said, “Yes.” He witnessed this amazing unity—that he did fulfill the condition his father had set. This is just amazing. They could see his potential. He is each and every one of those things. He’s the spiritual father of the Pakistan movement. And when I was reading his biography, written by Javed Iqbal, his own son, and Javed Iqbal had access to all the historical records, it was amazing. What happened during the Muslim League years, how Iqbal influenced Quaid-e-Azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah—how and when they came on the same page and remained on the same page until Iqbal died. It is a difficult thing to do in politics. So, they had one vision. Look at his concept in the Allahabad address, where he gave the concept of Pakistan in 1930. He is each and every one of those labels. And he lived a short life—he died in his early 60s—but his travels, his going to Palestine, his visit to Egypt, how he inspired so many Muslims all over the Muslim world, who were engaged in the fight against colonialism, imperialism, and for freedom. It’s just amazing. Just reading his biography was so overwhelming for me. I did it about a year and a half ago, and it was a very heavy read. Every little detail—where he went, what he said, where he made speeches—it was just amazing to see how much was packed into such a short life, and the great impact he had.I think he is one of those figures. Iqbal says:

"ہزار سال نرگس اپنی بے نوری پہ روتی ہے"

For a thousand years, the narcissus weeps over its blindness.

"بڑی مشکل سے ہوتا ہے چمن میں دیدہ ور پیدا"

With great difficulty, a true visionary is born in the garden.

(Bang-e-Dra, 1924)

He is that man. Actually, I think Iqbal was probably talking about himself. It’s just amazing. He is each and every one of those things you described. MashaAllah.

20:12 Saqib: And I would just like to emphasize one of those labels, if you want to use that term. You know, although he talks about Nietzsche, and he had a PhD, and he went to Cambridge, and he’s regarded as a very important Islamic thinker—very creative, innovative—there seems to be something, you know. And having read some Ghalib, and you know, Urdu, as well as some Persian poetry, inside that lineage of Hafez and Rumi, you know, this beautiful line, that lineage there of this Indo-Persian tradition. And we know he wrote, like Ghalib did, in both Farsi and Urdu. In fact, maybe his Farsi was more beautiful, or more, you know, rich. But not more than his Urdu. There seems to be something, which Saeed Ahmad Saeed Sahib refers to—he was the head of the Allama Iqbal Academy—refers to in one of his talks, maybe you can find it on YouTube, as “higher poetry” that deals with metaphysics, you know, like Blake and others. There seems to be something that, when you recite his poems, they don't just land on the mind. They go beyond—it’s not just an idea. There’s something that penetrates. He’s offering a level of vision on Islamic principles or Qurʾanic principles and history, which sometimes the Ulama, the scholars, aren’t able to convey, or they rely on him at times, or in Friday sermons. I know in Pakistan, often, you can hear someone reciting some poems of Iqbal. But the proof of this is, not only is he endorsed by the Ulama, the traditional scholars, who regard him as an Allama—a very learned person. For me, one interesting figure is Dr. Israr Ahmed, who, although he was a religious scholar, wanted to be known as Iqbal’s adopted son. He said, “I would like to be known as that.” He was so immersed in Iqbal, and he would give talks on the Qurʾan and Iqbal. He just said, “There is no parallel to Iqbal in Islamic history.” That, to me, says volumes. The level of endorsement by the Ulama, the traditional Ulama, who see what he’s talking about, and they say this level of insight and calling from the Qurʾan is unprecedented. We don't have it. God gave it to him. And I think that’s what I want to emphasize—this side of him, which was a visionary. He saw beyond his current time. He saw into the depth of history, into the depth of the Qurʾan, and was able to bring these things out and convey them in his poems. Sometimes that gets lost, you know. I’m just saying you can analyze and start talking about his ideas, but what he's doing, for me anyway, is going into that realm of higher poetry. Am I correct?

23:23

Humaira: Absolutely correct - Because I’ll share a very interesting detail from Allama Iqbal's life. He couldn’t look at blood. He was not able to look at blood. So, when they would be offering a sacrifice or something in the house, he would make his son, Javed, stand there. He used to become unconscious. People would say, "Allama, you write about the battlefield, and you write about Dasht par dasht hay, but you can’t even look at blood. How do you do this?" And he would say, "When I’m writing poetry, I am stepping into another realm." So, there is this creative theory that he had. Javed describes that even in winters, when he started getting inspired, the poetry would start coming to him. He would sit up, become agitated, and call out for pen and paper. Once he wrote it down, he would calm down.

Anyone who has ever written poetry or even had a slight interaction with poetry knows it’s not from this realm. It comes from another realm. We all know that. And those of us who have maybe written poetry or studied poetry know that it is an inspired exercise. In fact, I think one of Allama’s teachers asked him— probably Arnold; he said, "Iqbal, you are so educated, you’re studying philosophy, and yet you think the Qur’an was revealed?" And Allama Iqbal said, "Poems come down on me." He added something like, "If I am inspired to write this poetry, then I totally believe the Qur’an is revelation." So, that’s what he was conveying.

25:15

Humaira: And this point you made about him being so deeply immersed in the Qur’an is so true. Someone with even very little knowledge of the Qur’an, if they have read Iqbal, can immediately spot where a certain idea or a certain verse is coming from. If you’d like, I’d love to share a couple of examples.

Saqib: Yes, please.

Humaira: You know that poem where he asks about the reality of life? He writes:

برتر از اندیشہِ سود و زیاں ھے زندگی

Life is beyond the contemplation of profit and loss

ھے کبھی جاں اور کبھی تسلیمِ جاں ھے زندگی

At times, life is the soul itself, and at times, it is the surrender of the soul

(These verses highlight the philosophical depth in Iqbal’s poetry, suggesting that life transcends material concerns, and is sometimes about vitality and other times about submission or acceptance.)(Zarb-e-Kalim, 1936)

What he’s talking about is that life is far more than concern over profit and loss. It's not about thinking, "Am I making a profit? Am I going to suffer a loss?" Life is mysterious. Sometimes living is life, and sometimes giving up your life is life. This, to me, seems like a literal translation of the ayah of the Qur’an:

"وَلَا تَحْسَبَنَّ الَّذِينَ قُتِلُوا فِي سَبِيلِ اللَّهِ أَمْوَاتًا بَلْ أَحْيَاءٌ عِندَ رَبِّهِمْ يُرْزَقُونَ"(Qur’an 3:169)

Translation:"Do not think of those who are killed in the path of God as dead. They are alive, receiving sustenance from their Lord."

Iqbal takes this concept directly from the Qur’an and puts it into his own words. Another example that fascinates me is the last verse of this passage on life, where he says:

پُلِزوم ہستی سے تو اُبھر، ہے مانندِ حباب

Rise above the illusion of existence, for it is like a bubble

زیاں خانۂ ہستی میں ہے تیرا امتحان

Your test lies within the fragile abode of existence

(These lines reflect Allama Iqbal's message urging the individual to transcend the fleeting, illusory nature of worldly life, as life itself is a temporary and delicate phenomenon, much like a bubble. The true test of one’s being is found in navigating and overcoming this ephemeral existence.)

Immediately, it reminds me of the verse:

"وَالْعَصْرِ إِنَّ الْإِنسَانَ لَفِي خُسْرٍ"(Qur’an 103:1-2)

Translation:"By the passage of time, indeed man is in loss."

Calling the world a place of loss, where we are in khusraan—it’s as if Iqbal captures the Qur’anic concept so effortlessly. His words seem to flow directly from the essence of the Qur’an.

29:41

Humaira: I think it’s basically a case of “cream in, cream out” because I once read or heard that Allama Iqbal’s father used to ask him every day, “Do you read the Qur’an?” And Iqbal would say, “Yes.” His father would repeat the question the next day and the next, until one day he told him, “Read the Qur’an as if it is being revealed to you, as if it is coming down on you.” I believe Iqbal must have engaged in that exercise because I heard that when he read the Qur’an, he used to weep so much that the pages became wet, and they had to dry the Qur’an in the sun. I don’t know if it happened once or often, but it just shows how deeply he engaged with the Qur’an. It’s a simple equation: what goes in comes out.

29:41

Saqib: With your permission, I’d like to share two stories that have come to mind, and you can correct me or elaborate on them as needed. One is his philosophy on Khudi itself. And, as a side note, I’ll mention that he also wrote about Beykhudi—the secrets of selflessness. But I’ll put that as a side note for anyone listening. So, he was once asked, "Where did you get this philosophy of Khudi, about cultivating the self?" I think it was a journalist who asked him whether he took it from Nietzsche’s Superman, whom Iqbal admired but also critiqued. People often draw this comparison. And Iqbal said, "Come tomorrow, and I’ll tell you." So the journalist goes to visit, and Iqbal asks his servant to bring the Qur’an. The journalist was amazed, thinking, "I asked him for the source of Khudi, and he pulls out the Qur’an." Iqbal recited one of the last ayahs from Surah Al-Hashr:

﴿وَلَا تَكُونُوا كَالَّذِينَ نَسُوا اللَّهَ فَأَنسَاهُمْ أَنفُسَهُمْ ۚ أُولَٰئِكَ هُمُ الْفَاسِقُونَ﴾ - Qur’an 59:19

"Do not become like those who have forgotten God, for He made them forget their own selves."

Iqbal said, "This is the crux of my Khudi."

Humaira: Wow.

Saqib: The other story I think we should mention is about his father. I’ve heard this beautiful story as well—about reading the Qur’an as though it’s being revealed to you. There’s a poem that comes to mind:

ترے ضمیر پہ جب تک نہ ہو نزولِ کتاب

Until the revelation of the Book descends upon your conscience

گِرہ کُشا ہے نہ رازی نہ صاحبِ کشّاف

Neither Razi nor the author of Kashshaf can unravel the knots for you

These verses emphasize the importance of inner enlightenment and personal connection to divine knowledge. Iqbal suggests that no matter how great scholars like Fakhr al-Din al-Razi or the author of Al-Kashshaf (Al-Zamakhshari) may be, true understanding and wisdom can only be achieved when divine revelation touches one’s own conscience.

Saqib: Yes, exactly. So, you could be a commentator on the Qur’an and have elaborate commentaries, but unless it penetrates your being, the knot remains tied. And I think that’s a really important principle because Iqbal is undoing knots, in his poems, he is not just giving commentaries or recounting what happened. His poems are at a conceptual level—delivering penetrating insights.

32:34 Humaira: And that’s why I think they penetrate the soul. More than you understand them, you feel them.

32:42 Saqib:  Can I just say something about his father? For listeners, if you were to Google pictures of Iqbal’s parents, their faces are incredible to look at—the piety in their expressions. I’ve heard that his father was an unlettered Sufi, and he would hold circles in their house, where they studied the Fusus of Ibn Arabi. He also had a dream before Iqbal was born, foreseeing the great future his son would have. Can you say something about that?

33:17 Humaira: This I don’t know for sure, but I do know that when Iqbal was around four or five years old, Javed Iqbal writes in his biography of his father that there used to be sessions on Muhyiddin Ibn Arabi’s in their house. Imagine being five years old, and even if you don’t understand what’s happening, you’re absorbing these words. Imagine what effect this must have had on his development later on. He had amazing parents.

33:43 Saqib: And so we see that moving from the Qur’an... I’ve heard it said, and this brings us nicely to the topic of Rumi, that towards the end of his life, as learned as Iqbal was, he only read two books: the Qur’an and the Mathnavi of Rumi. He pays such homage to Rumi—it’s unbelievable. I was very fortunate to visit Rumi’s maqam in Konya, and behind the museum where Rumi is buried, there’s an honorary tombstone for Iqbal, where it says that he requested to be buried at the feet of his master, Rumi.

34:38 Humaira: I’ve seen that because I went to Konya, and somehow no one pointed it out to me, or I didn’t know where it was.

34:40 Saqib: I looked for it, but I don’t know if it’s still there. But I’ve heard it said that Iqbal’s request was to be buried at the feet of his master, Rumi.

34:44 Humaira: Wow.

34:58 Saqib: That's what I've heard. I don't have the reference for that. But yes, can you say something about Iqbal’s connection to Rumi? The reason I bring up Rumi is because, as the saying goes—and I believe it's by Jami—that the Mathnavi is the Qur’an in the Persian language. So, tell us something about Iqbal and the role of Rumi in his thought.

35:24 Humaira: One thing we know, and I know of, but haven’t read—I wish I had a tutor and could go through Javid Nama with a proper teacher. That’s one of those things I would love to do. Javid Nama is written in Persian, and it describes a celestial journey where Iqbal goes into the heavens and comes across great historical figures, including Mansoor Hallaj, I think. The mentor, the Murshid, and the teacher on this journey is none other than Jalaluddin Rumi. In fact, in the poem, Iqbal calls himself Murid-e-Hindi—Rumi's disciple from India. He poses questions to Rumi in Urdu, and Rumi responds with verses and teachings in Persian from his works. It’s a very interesting poem, half in Urdu and half in Persian. The questions are posed in Urdu, and the answers are given in Persian. There is absolutely no doubt that Rumi played a huge role in Iqbal’s development. In fact, Iqbal advised his son Javed, “If you find yourself without friends in life, take Rumi as your friend.”

36:52 Saqib: Wow.

Humaira: If you look at Rumi’s poetry, Saqib, it’s all about Ishq—love. So much so, I had the honor of giving a talk on Rumi and Ishq at the National University of Modern Languages. Shazreh, a colleague of mine spoke on Rumi and Tauheed, and I spoke on Rumi and Ishq. I’d like to recite a few lines from Rumi’s poetry; for him Ishq is a standalone concept. It is the source from which all that is noble, beautiful, and good in life is born. In one of his verses, Rumi says:

شرحِ عشق ار من بگویم بر دوام 

صد  قیامت   بگذرد  واں  ناتمام

زآنکه تاریخ قیامت را حداست

حد کجا؟ آنجا که وصف ایزد است

عشق را پانصد پر است و هر پری

از فراز عرش تا تحت سری

(Mathnavi)

If I were to explain love’s enduring nature,
A hundred doomsdays would pass, yet remain incomplete.
For the chronicle of Judgment Day is its boundary—
Where lies the limit? Where God’s own description dwells.
Love possesses five hundred wings and every fairy,
Stretching from the lofty throne to depths below.

37:57 Humaira: He’s saying, "Even the Day of Judgment has a limit—like the Qur’an says, that day will be 50,000 years long—but Ishq has no limit because it is one of the quintessential qualities of God." In another place, Rumi says:

"عشق است راه انبیا عشق است راه اولیا"

"Ishq is the path of the prophets,Ishq is the path of the saints."

We, as an Ummah (nation), are born of Ishq. We are products of Ishq. Ishq is our mother, the source from which we come.

38:50 Humaira: And if you look at Iqbal, it’s just amazing how his poetry reflects this. While preparing for this podcast, I felt so grateful to God for leading me to these insights. In Iqbal’s poetry, the discourse on Ishq is not limited to individuals. It’s present at the level of nations, at the level of accomplishments. The way he understands Ishq is profound. I’d like to recite a few examples. He asks, "What compelled Hazrat Ibrahim (AS) to stand so boldly against the tyrant of his time without any fear?" He answers:

بے خطر کود پڑا آتش نمرود میں عشق

Love leaped fearlessly into the fire of Nimrod

عقل ہے محو تماشائے لب بام ابھی

Reason is still absorbed in watching from the edge of the roof

(Bāl-e-Jibrīl, 1935)

In these verses, Iqbal contrasts the fearless nature of Ishq (love) with the cautious and hesitant nature of Aql (reason). The first line refers to the act of Prophet Ibrahim, who, out of love and devotion to God, fearlessly confronted Nimrod’s fire. The second line portrays reason as being passive, merely observing from a safe distance, highlighting how love takes action and risks, while reason remains cautious and often inactive.

Another of my favorite verses from Iqbal is Khizr e Rah, about Hazrat Ibrahim (AS) and Hazrat Imam Hussain (AS). He writes:

صدقِ خلیل بھی ہے عشق، صبرِ حسین بھی ہے عشق

The truth of Ibrahim (Khalil) is love, and the patience of Hussain is also love

معرکۂ وجود میں بدر و حنین بھی ہے عشق

In the battle of existence, Badr and Hunayn are also love

These verses highlight the multifaceted nature of Ishq (love) in the Islamic tradition. Iqbal equates love with both the unwavering faith of Prophet Ibrahim (Khalil) and the profound patience and sacrifice of Imam Hussain. Furthermore, he extends the concept of love to include the great historical battles of Badr and Hunayn, symbolizing that love also fuels the struggle for truth and justice in life.

Here, Iqbal’s role as a historian comes into play. He’s never carried away by poetry; he remains grounded in historical accuracy. In both battles—Badr and Hunain—the Muslims were outnumbered, but they emerged victorious. Iqbal reduces all of this to the equation of Ishq.

One of my favorite poems from Bāl-e-Jibrīl is Zuhd o Shauq. I’d love to recite just a couple of verses, if I may.

Saqib: Please do.

Humaira: He is addressing the Prophet Muhammad (SAW) and says:

تیری نظر میں ہیں تمام میرے گزشتہ روز و شب

مجھ کو خبر نہ تھی کہ ہے علم تخیل بے رطب!

All my past days and nights are before Your gaze;

I was unaware that knowledge is a palm tree without dates!

In these verses, Iqbal expresses a realization of the futility of mere intellectual knowledge (علم) when it lacks spiritual depth or purpose. He acknowledges that all his actions and time are known to God, and laments the fact that knowledge without true insight or divine guidance is like a barren tree, yielding no fruit or benefit.

He reflects on how he spent years studying philosophy, only to find that it was like a dry tree—lacking fruit. Then, he talks about the old philosophical conflicts resurfacing in his conscience.

تازہ مرے ضمیر میں معرکۂ کہن ہوا!

عشق تمام مصطفی! عقل تمام بو لہب!

"A fresh, ancient battle has been renewed within my conscience!

Love is entirely (aligned with) Mustafa (the Prophet Muhammad); reason is entirely (aligned with) Abu Lahab!"

In these lines, the poet expresses that an age-old conflict has been reignited within his inner self—the struggle between spiritual love and mere rationality. He equates love entirely with Mustafa (an epithet for the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ), representing divine love, guidance, and ultimate truth. On the other hand, he equates reason entirely with Abu Lahab, who was an uncle of the Prophet and one of his staunchest opponents, symbolizing opposition, arrogance, and misguided intellect.

The poet is highlighting the internal struggle between following the path of spiritual love and devotion versus relying solely on cold intellect or reason that may lead one astray. This couplet emphasizes the superiority of love and spiritual insight over mere rationality devoid of true understanding.

44:21 Humaira: At the level of civilizations, too, Iqbal attributes everything to Ishq. He says:

عشق کے ہیں معجزات سلطنت و فقر و دِیں

عشق کے ادنیٰ غلام صاحبِ تاج و نگیں

عشق مکان و مکیں، عشق زمان و زمیں

عشق سراپا یقیں، اور یقیں فتحِ باب

Love's miracles are sovereignty, asceticism, and religion;

Even the lowliest servants of Love are possessors of crowns and gems.

Love is both the place and the dweller, Love is both time and space;

Love is the embodiment of certainty, and certainty is the key to victory!

In these verses, Iqbal highlights the transformative power of Ishq (divine love). He emphasizes that love works miracles, elevating individuals to positions of both worldly authority (سلطنت) and spiritual enlightenment (فقر و دیں). Even those who are the humblest servants of love are granted great honor, symbolized by crowns and jewels, representing both spiritual and material greatness.

For Iqbal, Ishq leads to Yaqeen—certainty. And once you have Yaqeen, the doors open. You have arrived.

44:21 Saqib: Beautiful. If I may add, I believe the verse goes:

"تیری نماز میں  قیام..."

"Your standing in prayer is void of qiyam..

Humaira:

شوق ترا اگر نہ ہو میری نماز کا امام  

میرا قیام بھی حجاب، میرا سجود بھی حجاب

"If Your ardor is not the leader of my prayer,

Then my standing is a veil, my prostration is a veil."

He’s addressing the Prophet Muhammad (SAW) and saying, "My own worship becomes a barrier unless I have you as my guide." It’s incredible. You can’t explain these verses; you can only feel them penetrate your being.

45:12 Saqib: The one on Rumi, I think, says something to the effect of Terima kia nahid ke tu...

غلط نگر ہے تري چشم نيم باز اب تک

Your half-open eyes still see things incorrectly

ترا وجود ترے واسطے ہے راز اب تک

Your own existence remains a mystery to you even now

ترا نياز نہيں آشنائے ناز اب تک

Your humility has yet to understand the subtle grace

کہ ہے قيام سے خالي تري نماز اب تک

Your prayer is still devoid of true spiritual standing

گسستہ تار ہے تيري خودي کا ساز اب تک

The strings of your selfhood’s instrument are still broken

کہ تو ہے نغمہ رومي سے بے نياز اب تک

For you remain indifferent to the melody of Rumi even now

In these verses, Iqbal critiques the individual's incomplete spiritual awakening and lack of deep understanding. He points out that, despite engaging in worship and humility, the person’s inner self (خودی) is still disconnected, much like an untuned instrument. Iqbal suggests that true spiritual insight and self-awareness can be achieved through the wisdom and poetry of Rumi, urging a deeper connection to the essence of faith and life.

So, for our listeners, it's something to the effect of, you know, even in your Salah, the reason you don’t have the inner Qayyam or the real Qayyam—as in the standing—is because you haven’t yet heard the song of Rumi or the lament of Rumi.

45:41 Humaira: Exactly. Through his teachings.

45:45 Saqib: Yeah, just on that note, you know, I’d love to say something around the Prophet (PBUH), because Iqbal had a very, very deep love and reverence for the Prophet (PBUH). But just before we move to that, while we’re still on Rumi, I’d like to say something about his relationship with Mawlana Jalaluddin Rumi. My humble understanding is that it was more than just at the level of reading. Rumi wasn’t simply someone who offered Iqbal great intellectual insights or helped resolve his philosophical conflicts. I feel there was something more—a spiritual connection. You know, the Sufis talk about an Owaisi connection, an unseen connection one has with the soul of a saint or a spiritual lineage. Sometimes, we know Hazrat Owais al-Qarni had that sort of relationship with the Prophet (PBUH). I’ve heard similar stories about Iqbal, perhaps from Javed Iqbal, about...

46:57 Humaira: Yes, like whisperings in the room, or someone having a conversation, and Iqbal is sitting all by himself.

Saqib: Exactly.

Humaira: I’ve come across those anecdotes, and Javed Iqbal mentioned in interviews that Iqbal was very concerned about Muslims getting lost in this kind of discourse. Even though Iqbal himself was clearly at a very high spiritual state, he was strongly against fana f’il (self-annihilation), despite being immersed in it. Javed Iqbal said that even though he might have been privy to something, he wouldn’t share it because Iqbal wanted action. He was working with an agenda.

Yes, Iqbal was against the formal, ritualistic kind of Sufism. His Sufism was different—it was about the individual making interventions in the laws of nature. He believed that once a person actualizes their potential, they become the Mahdi

کھلے جاتے ہیں اسرار نہانی

گیا دور حدیث لن ترانی

ہوئی جس کی خودی پہلے نمودار

وہی مہدی ، وہی آخر زمانی

"The hidden secrets are being unveiled

The era of the saying 'You shall not see Me' has passed

He whose selfhood is first to manifest

He is the Mahdi, he is the End of Time"

He would say, "You are the Mahdi you’ve been waiting for." There are many such instances narrated by the person who used to serve Iqbal, and others, but Javed Iqbal didn’t want to highlight them.

48:56 Saqib: I’ve heard that too. There’s also a family story about Mawlana Rumi appearing to Iqbal and asking him to write a poem in the form of the Masnavi.

49:14 Humaira: I don’t have a hard time believing that. It’s not something difficult to accept.

49:22 Saqib: Yes, and it reminds me of Imam al-Busiri’s connection with the Prophet (PBUH) in his Qasidah al-Burdah—a deep love, despite never meeting physically. There was a Nisbah (spiritual connection) in the unseen. How else can you explain such depth of love in poems? It’s not just from ideas or stories—there’s something more flowing from within. So, while we’re on the subject of love, could you tell us about Iqbal’s love for the Prophet (PBUH)?

49:59 Humaira: I think the Prophet (SAW) is everything to Iqbal. He is Iqbal’s everything. If you look at Taranah-e-Milli, he says:

چین و عرب ہمارا ہندوستاں ہمارا

مسلم ہیں ہم وطن ہے سارا جہاں ہمارا

(Bang-e-Dra, 1924)

Translation:"China and Arabia are ours, India is ours,We are Muslim, the whole world is our homeland."

And then there’s the verse where he says:

سالارِ کارواں ہے میرِ حجازؐ اپنا

اس نام سے ہے باقی آرامِ جاں ہمارا

ا(Bang-e-Dara, 1924)

"The leader of our caravan is our own Master of Hijaz (the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ);

By this name endures the comfort of our souls."

Iqbal’s concept of the love for the Prophet (SAW) and his personality is spread throughout his poetry. I just love this one poem. Sometimes, I use this when I speak to pilgrims. I’ve been doing this for the last two years during the month of Dhul-Hijjah. It’s a PowerPoint presentation on pilgrimage, and I share stories that we’ve heard all our lives, many of which have been handed down from obscure little books. When I talk about Madinah, I use this poem, and I’d like to recite a few verses. It’s about a pilgrim who, after completing Hajj, is on his way from Makkah to Madinah. Iqbal shows such amazing general knowledge and historical insight. During the Middle Ages, it was very difficult to travel to Makkah and Madinah for Hajj. The Ottoman Empire used to allocate a budget as large as a war budget just to secure the Hajj caravans traveling from Turkey to the Arab lands. Highway robbers would attack, and people would risk their lives to perform Hajj or Umrah.

51:12 Humaira: In Bang-e-Dra, Iqbal writes about a Haji traveling to Madinah, and he says:

"ایک حاجی مدینہ کی راہ میں"

"(Bang-e-Dra, 1924)

A Haji on the road to Madinah."

The caravan was attacked by robbers who stole everything and killed some people. Iqbal describes the scene:

قافلہ لوٹا گيا صحرا ميں اور منزل ہے دور

اس بياباں يعني بحر خشک کا ساحل ہے دور  

ہم سفر ميرے شکار دشنہء رہزن ہوئے

بچ گئے جو ، ہو کے بے دل سوئے بيت اللہ پھ

بے زيارت سوئے بيت اللہ پھر جاؤں گا کيا

عاشقوں کو روز محشر منہ نہ دکھلاؤں گا کيا

خوف جاں رکھتا نہيں کچھ دشت پيمائے حجاز

ہجرت مدفون يثرب ميں يہي مخفي ہے راز

The caravan was plundered in the desert, and the destination is far

In this wilderness, that is, the shore of the dry ocean is distant

My fellow travelers became victims of the robbers' daggers

Those who survived, disheartened, returned towards the Kaaba

Will I return towards the Kaaba without visiting Madina

Shall I not show my face to the lovers on the Day of Resurrection

The traveler of the deserts of Hijaz holds no fear for his life

This is the hidden secret in the migration of the one buried in Yathrib

The caravan was looted in the desert, and Madinah is still far away.

The pilgrim is standing, facing Madinah, and he says:

"How can I return to Makkah without visiting Madinah?How will I show my face on the Day of Judgment if I go back?"

Then Iqbal brings the lesson. He says that the one lesson the Prophet (SAW) taught during Hijra is that the one crossing the desert should have no fear of death. Iqbal writes:

Translation:"What does Kufa know of the secrets of the desert of Hijra?The one buried in Yathrib holds the secret of the Hijra."

This is the message the Prophet (SAW) gave us—that crossing the deserts in our lives should not scare us. Iqbal beautifully captures this. It’s not just one verse; he goes on to say in Jawab-e-Shikwa:

"کی محمدؐ سے وفا تُو نے تو ہم تیرے

 ہیںیہ جہاں چیز ہے کیا، لوح و قلم تیرے ہیں"  (Jawab-e-Shikwa, 1913)

"If you are loyal to Muhammad (PBUH), then we are yours,

What is this world? Even the tablet and the pen are yours."

Iqbal is clear about the centrality of the Prophet (SAW), not only in religion of Islam but as the ultimate creation of God. He says:

لوح بھی تو، قلم بھی تو، تیرا وجود الکتابگنبدِ نیلوفری رنگ تیرے محیط میں

You are the Tablet, You are the Pen; Your very existence is the Book.

The blue dome (of the sky) is immersed within the hues of Your expanse.

(Bang-e-Dra, 1924)

Iqbal’s love for the Prophet (SAW) and his understanding of the Prophet’s station are beyond words. I dare say, none of us can truly comprehend the station of the Prophet (SAW). I think it was Ghalib who said, "I handed over the task of praising the Prophet to Allah, for only He knows the Prophet’s true station."

56:29 Saqib: I am reminded of a story about Sheikh Abu Hassan Al-Nadwi, who wrote a beautiful book on Iqbal. It’s a good introductory book in English, actually. When he was a child or teenager, he translated some of Iqbal’s poems into Arabic. A great lover of Iqbal, he went to visit him as a young boy and presented those translations. For listeners who may be aware of Sheikh Mohammed Akram Nadwi, Sheikh Abu Hassan was his teacher. It’s said that Iqbal would cry just at the mention of Madinah or Makkah because he could never make the pilgrimage. I understand there was an option to do the pilgrimage on his way back from Europe—he obviously went to Spain, where he wrote the famous Masjid e Qurtuba—but he felt it would be a lack of adab (etiquette) to do the pilgrimage incidentally, on the way back.

57:45 Humaira: Yes, it would be a lack of adab or etiquette.

57:45 Saqib: And so just the mention of those places would bring tears to his eyes.

One of the key ideas he presents is the concept of the Khudi. Maybe we could discuss two of his ideas, not in depth, but at least briefly. One is the symbol of the eagle that he uses many times. Could you say something about that?

58:24 Humaira: Yes. One interesting point—I’m sure you’ve heard of this—is about Abu ’l‑‘Alā al‑Ma‘arrī. He was a jurist, right? There is a reference to the Shaheen (Falcon) in one of Iqbal’s poems, and it’s about a jurist who never ate meat. Someone tried to trick him by sending him a roasted bird, a type of partridge, I believe. Abu ’l‑‘Alā al‑Ma‘arrī says, "I don't eat meat." He was a vegetarian jurist who always ate vegetables. A friend sent him a roasted bird, thinking, "Maybe I can trick him into eating some meat." When he looked at the roasted bird, he said, "Oh, you poor bird, just tell me this: Paravo guna kia, mo kafaat—what did you do that you were hunted, roasted, and became someone’s meal?"

58:52 Humaira: Then, he adds, "Oh, Shaheen, how tragic that you did not follow the ways of the Falcon! Dekhe nateri ark ne fitrat ke sharat—you were oblivious to the laws of nature." This is an eternal message—an eternal law of nature. In this world, if you commit the crime of being weak, you will die a sudden death. You won’t even know what hit you. Then, there is this reference: "Why couldn’t you be more like a Falcon?"

Iqbal dedicated an entire poem in Bāl-e-Jibrīl to the Falcon, describing how it inspires and how he wanted the youth to be inspired by the ways of the Falcon. Do you want me to read a little from that?

1:01:04 Saqib: Yes, please.

1:01:08 Humaira: From Bāl-e-Jibrīl, here’s a passage in the first person, where the Falcon says:

شاہِیں

کِیا میں نے اُس خاک داں سے کنارا

جہاں رزق کا نام ہے آب و دانہ

بیاباں کی خلوت خوش آتی ہے مجھ کو

ازل سے ہے فطرت مری راہبانہ

نہ باد بہاری، نہ گُلچیں، نہ بُلبل

نہ بیماریِ نغمۂ عاشقانہ

خیابانیوں سے ہے پرہیز لازم

ادائیں ہیں ان کی بہت دلبرانہ

ہوائے بیاباں سے ہوتی ہے کاری

جواں مرد کی ضربتِ غازیانہ

حمام و کبوتر کا بھُوکا نہیں مَیں

کہ ہے زندگی باز کی زاہدانہ

جھپٹنا، پلٹنا، پلٹ کر جھپٹنا

لہُو گرم رکھنے کا ہے اک بہانہ

یہ پورب، یہ پچھم چکوروں کی دنیا

مِرا نیلگوں آسماں بیکرانہ

پرندوں کی دُنیا کا درویش ہوں مَیں

کہ شاہیں بناتا نہیں آشیانہ

I have turned away from that dust-covered worldWhere sustenance is known as water and grain.

The solitude of the wilderness pleases me;Since eternity, my nature has been ascetic.

No spring breeze, no flower-picker, no nightingale,No affliction of passionate melodies.

It is necessary to avoid the garden dwellers;Their ways are very enchanting.

From the wilderness air becomes sharpThe brave man's warrior-like strike.

I am not hungry for pigeons and doves,For the falcon's life is one of abstinence.

To swoop, to turn, to swoop again—Is but an excuse to keep the blood warm.

This East, this West, are the worlds of partridges;My azure sky is boundless.

I am the dervish of the world of birds;For the falcon does not make a nest.

(Bāl-e-Jibrīl, 1935)

In these lines, Iqbal expresses his discontent with the materialistic world, where survival is reduced to the basic needs of food and water. He suggests that life, when viewed only through the lens of material sustenance (آب و دانہ), is limiting and shallow. Iqbal's philosophy encourages looking beyond mere physical existence towards spiritual fulfillment, urging individuals to seek a higher purpose and meaning beyond the pursuit of basic necessities.

We tend to think of rizq as food, but rizq can be talent, opportunities, or knowledge. The Falcon says:

"بیابان کی خاموش فطرت کو میں"

I am beholden to the silent nature of the wilderness

"سدا سے رہین ہوں، ازل سے پرہیزگار"

I have always been, since eternity, abstinent and pure

(Bāl-e-Jibrīl, 1935)

In these verses, Iqbal reflects on his connection to the solitude and purity of nature, particularly the wilderness. The wilderness represents a state of simplicity, untouched by the complexities of society. He expresses his enduring affinity for this quiet, natural state and describes himself as someone who has been abstinent and spiritually pure from the very beginning, emphasizing his alignment with a natural, untainted way of life. This highlights Iqbal's admiration for simplicity, purity, and the spiritual strength found in isolation and contemplation.

The Falcon is saying, "I’m not into the springtime songs of the nightingale or the beauty of the garden. I avoid the company of those who are settled." Then, the Falcon says something so powerful:

He’s saying that the power and strength of the strike come from training in the wilderness—not from the comforts of city life. The Falcon says:

حمام و کبوتر کا بھُوکا نہیں مَیں

کہ ہے زندگی باز کی زاہدانہ

I am not hungry for pigeons and doves

For the falcon's life is that of an ascetic

(Bāl-e-Jibrīl, 1935)

In these lines, Iqbal contrasts the nature of an ordinary bird (pigeon/dove) with the majestic falcon (باز). The falcon, known for its independence, resilience, and hunger for greatness, symbolizes the ideal of self-reliance and spiritual strength. Iqbal is expressing his disdain for a life of comfort and ease (symbolized by the pigeon), embracing instead the challenges and struggles that sharpen the spirit, much like the falcon’s hunger which strengthens its character. This represents his philosophy of self-empowerment, courage, and striving for higher ideals.

Iqbal uses the Falcon to symbolize austerity, independence, and constant motion. This is one of my favorite poems—it’s a message to live a tough life, to stay in motion, and to aim high.

I did some research because Iqbal wouldn’t just say something like this without a basis. There is indeed a species of Falcon that does not make a nest, and that’s what Iqbal refers to. Just like Rumi and other great thinkers, Iqbal draws inspiration from nature and the laws of nature, which are signs of God about how to live life. The Qur’an emphasizes observing and thinking about the world around us.

1:06:40 Saqib: Beautiful! That leads us to another idea worth exploring. I can start with some verses that have inspired me. Iqbal was critical of religious orthodoxy because, at the time, Muslims in India—having faced colonialism—were not exercising the true essence of their religion. This reminds me of Imam al-Ghazali, who also spoke against religious idolatry—turning religion into customs without spirit. I think Iqbal critiqued this as well.

He had strong critiques of culture and Western civilization, but he also had much to say about certain forms of Sufism, which he believed had become obsolete. For him, the focus was on bringing Divine energy into action. However, I don’t think he was a modernist. He wasn’t trying to redefine religion based on modern principles. Instead, he challenged Muslims to rise to the challenges of modernity while staying deeply rooted in their traditions.

One of his critiques, which I find fascinating, is about the difference between the call to prayer by a Mullah and by a Mujahid. He says:

الفاظ و معانی میں تفاوت نہیں لیکن

مُلّا کی اذاں اور، مجاہد کی اذاں اور

(Bāl-e-Jibrīl, 1935)

There is no difference in words and meanings, but

The cleric's call to prayer is one thing; the warrior's call is another

پرواز ہے دونوں کی اسی ایک فضا میں

کرگس کا جہاں اور ہے، شاہیں کا جہاں اور

"Both soar in the same atmosphere,

But the vulture's world is one, and the falcon's world is another."

There’s the poem about the Vulture and the Eagle where Iqbal says, "Both fly in the same environment," but he contrasts the flight of the Eagle with that of the Vulture. This is just paraphrasing the meaning, by the way, I’m not doing an exact translation. Iqbal talks about how the elevation of the Eagle is different. Then he says this beautiful line, which to me, you know, shows that he had deep Sufi connections. I know he took bayah (spiritual allegiance) with a number of Sufi masters or renewed his bayah. He deeply admired Sheikh Ahmad Sirhindi and wanted to give a talk on Ibn Arabi at Cambridge, I believe. He even wrote to the great saint, Pir Meher Ali Shah, who was lost in an ecstatic retreat and was deeply influenced by Ibn Arabi.

1:10:15 Saqib: Iqbal says:

انداز بياں گرچہ بہت شوخ نہيں ہے

Though the style of my expression is not very bold

شايد کہ اتر جائے ترے دل ميں مری بات

Perhaps my words may still settle in your heart

يا وسعت افلاک ميں تکبير مسلسل

Either the constant declaration of God's greatness in the vastness of the heavens

يا خاک کے آغوش ميں تسبيح و مناجات

Or the praise and supplication within the embrace of the earth

وہ مذہب مردان خود آگاہ و خدا مست

That is the religion of self-aware, God-intoxicated men

يہ مذہب ملا و جمادات و نباتات

While this is the religion of the cleric, of lifeless minerals and plants

(Bāl-e-Jibrīl, 1935)

In these verses, Iqbal contrasts two paths of faith. He speaks of a vibrant, spiritually empowered religion practiced by individuals who are deeply conscious of themselves and intoxicated with divine love, as opposed to a rigid, lifeless version of religion that is associated with the material world, symbolized by "minerals and plants" and practiced by the orthodox clerics (Mullah). The former represents a dynamic, living faith, while the latter is marked by superficiality and stagnation.

1:11:05 Saqib: He’s making a distinction: either your remembrance of God has a vertical dimension resound in the Heaven and transcends, or it stays on the relative horizontal level, mere formalism. As the Sufis say: The Name is the Named. Ultimately it’s Him who is doing the Dhikr of His Name. It’s the difference between those whose worship connects them to Divine Reality and those for whom religion becomes an empty form. Iqbal continues:

وہ مذہب مردان خود آگاہ و خدا مست   

يہ مذہب ملا و جمادات و نباتات   (Bāl-e-Jibrīl, 1935)

Translation:"That is the religion of the God-intoxicated men,While this is the religion of the Mullah is one of stagnation and vegetation."

Iqbal critiques religious idolatry and formalism, just like Imam Ghazali did. He reminds people of the inner dimension of religion, which had been forgotten. 

1:13:06 Humaira: You said it so beautifully, I don’t think I have anything to add to that. Iqbal was a huge critic of the traditional clergy. If you look at Shikwa and Jawab-e-Shikwa, which were written for the general public, he says:

واعظ قوم کی وہ پختہ خيالی نہ رہی

برق طبعی نہ رہی، شعلہ مقالی نہ رہی

رہ گئی رسم اذاں روح بلالی نہ رہی

فلسفہ رہ گيا ، تلقين غزالی نہ رہی

That judgment ripe is no more theirs who play your preachers’ role,

Nor kindling accents from their lips, reveal the flaming soul.

Azan yet sounds, but never now Like Bilal’s, soulfully;

Philosophy, conviction-less, Now mourns its Ghazzali,

(Shikwa, 1911)

In these verses, Iqbal laments the loss of two crucial elements: the fiery passion of Milli (national or collective identity) and the Bilali spirit, symbolizing the pure, humble, and unwavering faith of Hazrat Bilal (RA), one of the closest companions of the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH). The disappearance of these qualities signifies a weakening of the Muslim community’s core values, leaving behind a void of spiritual and intellectual strength.

In another place, he says:

"جس کا عمل ہے بے غرض، اس کی جزا کچھ اور ہے"

"حُور و خلد سے گزر، بادہ و جام سے گزر"

The reward of one whose actions are selfless is something beyond imagination

Pass beyond the pleasures of paradise, the wine, and the goblet

(Bang-e-Dra, 1924)

In these verses, Iqbal emphasizes that the highest form of reward is not the material or sensory pleasures of paradise (such as Hoor—maidens, or Khuld—paradise), but rather something far greater for those whose actions are purely selfless. He calls for transcending beyond the conventional rewards of paradise to seek a higher spiritual state, suggesting that true fulfillment lies beyond material and even heavenly temptations.

Iqbal was deeply critical of those who turned Islam into ritualistic formalism, devoid of spirit. He opposed the idea of organized clergy in Islam because there is no concept of clergy in true Islamic tradition. He found the Mullahs to be of limited understanding, stuck in ritual, and missing the essence of Islam.

1:14:45 Saqib: Beautiful. The last concept for today’s podcast is Khudi (selfhood). Iqbal’s idea of Khudi is often misunderstood, especially by those who have read Sufi texts emphasizing selflessness and trust in God. Iqbal, however, speaks of cultivating the Khudi, and there are beautiful poems he has written on ripening of the self (to the Self), but not in the modern sense of ego development as seen in self-help books. He’s not talking about being your best self in a materialistic way. Instead, he speaks of actualizing the self in its fullest sense, becoming an absolute servant of the Divine—a very high station. He speaks about being active in the world and embodying divine qualities. There’s a beautiful poem...

1:16:11Saqib: Could you recite the poem where he says:

"قہاری و غفاری و قدّوسی و جبروت"

"Dominance, Forgiveness, Sanctity, and Power...

Humaira:

قہّاری و غفّاری و قدّوسی و جبروت

یہ چار عناصر ہوں تو بنتا ہے مسلمان

ہر لحظہ ہے مومن کی نئی آن، نئی شان

گفتار میں، کردار میں، اللہ کی برہان

جس سے جگرِ لالہ میں ٹھنڈک ہو وہ شبنم

دریاؤں کے دل جس سے دہل جائیں وہ طوفان

"Dominance, Forgiveness, Purity, and Majesty—When these four elements are present, a Muslim is formed."

"At every moment, the believer has new dignity, new glory;In speech, in action, he is the proof of God."

"That dew which cools the heart of the tulip,That storm which makes the hearts of rivers tremble."

In this verse, Iqbal emphasizes that a true Muslim embodies a balance of four key qualities: Qahari (dominion and power over oneself and circumstances), Ghaffari (forgiveness and mercy), Quddusi (holiness and purity), and Jabarut (strength and might). These qualities reflect both the spiritual and practical aspects of a well-rounded believer, highlighting the ideal attributes of a Muslim who aligns themselves with the higher virtues of faith.

Saqib: 

Yes, and he says, "Cultivate your Self to such a degree that before destiny is written, Allah asks you, 'What is it that you want, My servant?'"

It’s reminiscent of the Hadith where the Prophet (SAW) said about Uways al-Qarni: "When he raises his hands to pray, his prayers are never rejected."

Iqbal says that a human being is not just a drop in the ocean, but the ocean in a drop, echoing the words of Maula Ali ra. He speaks of the limitless potential of the human being.That reminds me of a quote from Hazrat Ali (ra):

دَواؤُكَ فِيكَ وَمَا تُبْصِرُوَدَاؤُكَ مِنْكَ وَمَا تَشْعُرُ

أَتَزْعُمُ أَنَّكَ جُرْمٌ صَغِيرٌوَفِيكَ انْطَوَى الْعَالَمُ الْأَكْبَرُ

فَأَنْتَ الْكِتَابُ الْمُبِينُ الَّذِيبِأَحْرُفِهِ يَظْهَرُ الْمُضْمَرُ

وَمَا حَاجَةٌ لَكَ مِنْ خَارِجٍوَفِكْرُكَ فِيكَ وَمَا تُصْدِرُ

Your remedy is within you, yet you do not see

Your ailment comes from you, yet you do not perceive

Do you think that you are a small entity,

While within you the great universe is enfolded

So you are the clear bookWhose letters reveal the hidden secrets

You have no need from outside yourself;

Your thought is within you, yet you do not contemplate

In these lines, Hazrat Ali (RA) conveys a deep philosophical and spiritual message: that both the problems and their solutions lie within a person. He challenges the notion of seeing oneself as insignificant, reminding us that each person contains within them the vastness and mysteries of the entire universe. This encourages self-reflection, self-realization, and the understanding that we are far more capable and significant than we often realize.

Often there is the idea amongst Sufis that nothing happens without Divine will and so you surrender your will completely to the Divine and therefore one accepts what is. Iqbal seems to be developing this further; idea that the human being contains the potential for divine qualities, and that by cultivating the Self, one can reach a state where the Divine and human wills are intertwined. Iqbal often reminds us that humans are co-creators in existence, reflecting the Qur'anic verse, "And you did not throw when you threw, but Allah threw."  For Iqbal, tawakkul - trust- isnt just about being subservient to whatever happens as being Divine will and being content and grateful, but revognisign you are a co-creator

And it reminds me of the poem on tawakul by Ibn Atallah al Iskandari in his Hikam:

One of the signs of relying on one’s own deeds is the loss of hope when a downfall occurs.

Iqbal says something similar:

نہ ہو نومید، نومیدی زوالِ علم و عرفاں ہے

امیدِ مردِ مومن ہے خدا کے رازدانوں میں

"Do not be despondent; despair is the decline of knowledge and wisdom;

The hope of the true mo’min is among the confidants of God."

Could yo say more about Iqbal’s Khudi and the idea of creative activism in the universe, as God’s khalifa

1:19:53Humaira: I don’t know if I’ll be able to do justice to this because, most certainly, Khudi is Iqbal’s biggest contribution, or at least, he’s best known for his philosophy on Khudi. His most famous ghazal on this subject is:

"فرشتوں سے بہتر ہے انسان بننا"

It is better to become a human than to be an angel

"مگر اس میں لگتی ہے محنت زیادہ"

But it requires much more effort

In this verse, Iqbal highlights the superiority of being human over angels, despite the latter’s purity. He implies that while angels are inherently virtuous, humans have the potential to rise above them because they possess free will and the ability to grow through struggle and effort. However, reaching this level of moral and spiritual greatness requires significant dedication and hard work, more than simply being born into purity like the angels.

He’s actually talking to Darwin here. When he says, Khird mandao se kya poochun, I think he’s questioning Darwin’s theory of evolution and The Origin of Species. He says, "I’m not concerned about where I came from, I’m concerned about where I’m going." Iqbal says:

خرد مندوں سے کیا پوچھوں کہ میری ابتدا کیا ہے

کہ میں اس فکر میں رہتا ہوں میری انتہا کیا ہے

خودی کو کر بلند اتنا کہ ہر تقدیر سے پہلے

خدا بندے سے خود پوچھے بتا تیری رضا کیا ہے

"Why should I ask the wise ones about what my beginning is,When I myself remain engrossed in pondering what my end will be."

"Elevate your selfhood (Khudi) to such heights that before every decree,God Himself asks His servant: 'Tell me, what is your wish?'"

(Bang-e-Dra, 1924)

In these verses, Iqbal encourages the individual to strengthen and elevate their Khudi (sense of self) through self-awareness, effort, and spiritual development. The idea is that by achieving such a level of inner strength and consciousness, one can influence their own destiny to the extent that even God seeks their will before determining their fate. It signifies the power of self-realization and the potential for individuals to shape their lives through the elevation of their character and purpose.

When I explain this verse, I often talk about the night of Mi'raj, where the Prophet Muhammad (SAW) negotiated with Allah to bring the number of daily prayers down from fifty to five. As Omid Safi says in his book, Memories of Muhammad, this is the greatest law of Islam—Salah is essentially a negotiated settlement between the Creator and man. The will of God and the will of the Prophet (SAW) met at the figure five. So, when Iqbal says, Khudi ko kar buland, he’s talking about destiny in a broader sense.

1:21:10 Humaira: Absolutely. Iqbal sometimes talks about the laws of nature and Taqdir (destiny) in this world. In another place, he says:

عبَث ہے شکوۂ تقدیرِ یزداں

تو خود تقدیرِ یزداں کیوں نہیں ہے؟

It is futile to complain about the destiny ordained by God

Why are you yourself not the destiny of God

(Bang-e-Dra, 1924)

In these lines, Iqbal emphasizes the futility of complaining about one’s fate or destiny, suggesting that lamenting over one's circumstances or questioning God’s will is pointless. He implies that if success and happiness are not written in a person’s destiny, no amount of complaint can change that. Instead, one should accept their fate with grace, focusing on self-reliance and inner strength.

He’s saying that it’s a waste of time to complain about your fate. Instead, focus on raising your Khudi.

Iqbal’s philosophy of Khudi is not just about selflessness. There’s a fascinating Rubai of Iqbal where he takes Khudi to an ultimate level. He says:

خودی کی خلوتوں میں گم رہا میں

خدا کے سامنے گویا نہ تھا میں!

نہ دیکھا آنکھ اٹھا کر جلوۂ دوست

قیامت میں تماشا بن گیا میں!

"I remained lost in the solitude of my selfhood;I was speechless before God!

I did not lift my eyes to behold the Beloved's splendor;I became a spectacle on the Day of Resurrection!"

(Bang-e-Dara, 1924)

In these verses, Iqbal explores the concept of Khudi (the self). He describes a deep spiritual journey, where he becomes so absorbed in the realization of his inner self that, when facing God, he sees a reflection of his own essence. This illustrates Iqbal's philosophy that true self-awareness and connection with the divine come from within, transcending external perceptions and the views of others. It signifies a mystical union where the self and the divine become indistinguishable.

Iqbal is talking about the ultimate actualization of Khudi. It’s not just about losing yourself. It’s about reaching such a high state of self-realization that even in front of God, you remain firm in your Khudi.

1:23:42 Saqib: Beautiful.

1:23:43 Humaira:  Just beautiful.Amazing.

1:23:45 Saqib: Humaira, I was going to ask you what your favorite poem is, but I feel like you’ve already shared so many gems with us.

1:23:56 Humaira: There are too many. I wouldn’t be able to choose just one.

1:24:00 Saqib: Can you say something about Iqbal’s relevance for today? How should he be studied, especially by the younger generation, who may not have access to the Urdu language? But as you said, once they understand him, they develop a deep thirst for his work. So, what’s Iqbal’s relevance today?

1:24:26 Humaira: I find him exceedingly relevant. In fact, we’ve raised almost 2 million rupees just by reciting Iqbal and Attar in the last few months for Palestine. Interestingly, Iqbal used to do the same during his lifetime. When he recited Jawab-e-Shikwa in 1913, the funds raised went to support Turkey during the Balkan Wars. He would recite a verse and then stop, and people would ask to hear the next verse. Iqbal would say, "I need this much money," and people, including women, would donate their gold. A hundred years later, we are using his poetry to raise funds for Palestine. It’s incredible how his sincerity lives on.

1:25:50 Humaira: I’d like to read a few lines from Taranah-e-Milli. It’s so relevant to the situation in Palestine today. Iqbal says:

"چین و عرب ہمارا، ہندوستان ہمارا"

China and Arabia are ours, and India is ours.

"مسلم ہیں ہم، وطن ہے سارا جہاں ہمارا"

We are Muslims, and the entire world is our homeland.

(Bang-e-Dra, 1924)

These lines express a sense of global unity among Muslims, transcending geographical boundaries. Iqbal emphasizes that the Muslim identity is not confined to any specific nation; rather, the entire world belongs to the Muslim community, fostering a sense of universal brotherhood

He continues:

"توحید کی امانت سینوں میں ہے ہمارے"

The trust of Tawhid (the oneness of God) is held in our hearts

"آساں نہیں مٹانا نام و نشاں ہمارا"

It is not easy to erase our name and legacy

These verses emphasize the deep-rooted belief in the oneness of God (Tawhid) within the hearts of Muslims. Iqbal asserts that this belief is a powerful and enduring force, making it difficult for anyone to erase the identity and legacy of the Muslim community. It highlights the strength and resilience that comes from holding fast to this core belief.

Iqbal reminds us that we are the defenders of the Kaaba and that we cannot be easily destroyed. This poem is full of lessons, and it’s amazing how relevant it is today.

دنیا کے بت کدوں میں پہلا وہ گھر خدا کا

ہم اس کے پاسباں ہیں وہ پاسباں ہمارا

تیغوں کے سائے میں ہم پل کر جواں ہوئے ہیں

خنجر ہلال کا ہے قومی نشاں ہمارا

باطل سے دبنے والے اے آسماں نہیں ہم

سو بار کر چکا ہے تو امتحاں ہمارا

سالارِ کارواں ہے میرِ حجاز اپنا

اس نام سے ہے باقی آرامِ جاں ہمارا

"Among the idol houses of the world, that first house of God (the Kaaba);

We are its guardians, and it is our guardian."

"We have grown up and become strong under the shadows of swords;

The crescent-shaped dagger is our national symbol."

"O sky, we are not ones to be subdued by falsehood;

You have tested us a hundred times."

"The leader of our caravan is our own Guide of Hijaz (the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ);

By this name endures the comfort of our souls."

Iqbal also critiqued the concept of limited nationalism in his poem Wataniyat, which was written after the First World War. He calls out the dangers of parochialism and rigid borders, saying that Muslims should not fall into the trap of nationalism. Iqbal says:

اس دور میں مے اور ہے، جام اور ہے، جم اور

ساقی نے بِنا کی روشِ لُطف و ستم اور

مسلم نے بھی تعمیر کِیا اپنا حرم اور

تہذیب کے آزر نے ترشوائے صنم اور

اِن تازہ خداؤں میں بڑا سب سے

وطن ہےجو پیرہن اس کا ہے، وہ مذہب کا کفن ہے

یہ بُت کہ تراشیدۂ تہذیبِ نوِی ہے

غارت گرِ کاشانۂ دینِ نبَوی ہے

بازو ترا توحید کی قوّت سے قوی ہے

اسلام ترا دیس ہے، تُو مصطفوی ہے

"In this age, the wine is different, the cup is different, and so is the cupbearer;

The cupbearer has adopted a new manner of kindness and cruelty."

"The Muslim, too, has built another sanctuary of his own;

The 'Azar' of modern civilization has carved new idols."

"Among these new gods, the greatest is the homeland (nation);

The garment it wears is the shroud of religion."

"This idol, which is carved by the new civilization,

Is the destroyer of the dwelling of the religion of the Prophet."

"Your arm is strengthened by the power of monotheism (Tawhid);

Islam is your homeland; you are a follower of Mustafa (the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ)."

نظارۂ دیرینہ زمانے کو دکھا دے

اے مصطفوی خاک میں اس بُت کو ملا دے

"Show the ancient spectacle to the world once again;

O follower of Mustafa (the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ), consign this idol to the dust."

(Bang-e-Dra, 1924)

In these verses, Iqbal highlights the strength that a Muslim derives from the belief in Tawhid. He emphasizes that Islam, rather than any particular country, is the true homeland of the believer, and being a follower of Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) gives the Muslim identity and purpose. This reflects Iqbal's vision of a united Muslim Ummah, bound by faith rather than geography.

Iqbal tells the Muslim world to rise above nationalism and remember that their true identity lies in Islam. His message is incredibly relevant today, especially when we see nation-states prioritizing their own interests over the greater good of the Ummah.

07:29 Saqib: Thank you so much for joining us on The Hikmah Project Podcast. It’s been an absolute honor and a pleasure. You’ve had me ecstatic throughout the podcast with Iqbal’s verses, your energy, and enthusiasm.

07:52 Humaira: I really enjoyed this conversation. It’s not every day that you get to talk about Iqbal in such detail.

08:02 Saqib: Any last words? Perhaps a final sher (couplet)?

08:10 Humaira:

ترا جوہر ہے نوری، پاک ہے تو

Pure is your essence, for you are of light

فروغ دیدۂ افلاک ہے تو

You are the brilliance that shines in the eye of the heavens

ترے صید زبوں افرشتہ و حور

Your humble prey are angels and heavenly maidens

کہ شاہین شہ لولاک ہے تو

For you are the falcon of the King of Lowlak (Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him)

(Bang-e-Dra, 1924)

These verses emphasize the lofty, divine nature of the human soul, describing it as a pure, radiant entity that surpasses even angels and heavenly beings. The reference to the "falcon of the King of Lowlak" signifies the elevated status of the believer, drawing a parallel between their spiritual pursuit and the majesty of the falcon, which soars higher than ordinary creatures.

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