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I am dedicating this to the HUMANITY and the Great Soldiers and Civilian died defending Pakistan sovereignty as an Islamic State, infact it is one of my top favorites ghazal and indeed the poet. Sir Dr. Muhammad Iqbal

Sir Dr. Muhammad Iqbal (علامہ محمد اقبال /

Dr. Allama Muhammad Iqbal (1877-1938), a notab...

Allama Muḥammad Iqbāl; November 9, 1877 – April 21, 1938), commonly referred to as Allama Iqbāl (علامہ اقبال‎, ʿAllāma meaning “The Learned One”), was a Lahori Muslim poet, philosopher and politician in British India.

He wrote his works in Persian and Urdu. After studying in Cambridge, Munich and Heidelberg, Iqbal established a law practice, but concentrated primarily on writing scholarly works on politics, economics, history, philosophy and religion. He is best known for his poetic works, including Asrar-e-Khudi—for which he was knighted— Rumuz-e-Bekhudi, and the Bang-e-Dara, with its enduring patriotic song Tarana-e-Hind. In India, he is widely regarded for the patriotic song, Saare Jahan Se Achcha. In Afghanistan and Iran, where he is known as Eghbāl-e-Lāhoorī (اقبال لاہوری‎ Iqbal of Lahore), he is highly regarded for his Persian works. Iqbal was a strong proponent of the political and spiritual revival of Islamic civilisation across the world, but specifically in South Asia; a series of famous lectures he delivered to this effect were published as The Reconstruction of Religious Thought in Islam.

One of the most prominent leaders of the All India Muslim League, Iqbal encouraged the creation of a “state in northwestern India for Muslims” in his 1930 presidential address. Iqbal encouraged and worked closely with Muhammad Ali Jinnah, and he is known as Muffakir-e-Pakistan (“The Thinker of Pakistan”), Shair-e-Mashriq (“The Poet of the East”), and Hakeem-ul-Ummat (“The Sage of Ummah”).

He is officially recognized as the national poet of Pakistan. The anniversary of his birth (یوم ولادت محمد اقبال‎ – Yōm-e Welādat-e Muḥammad Iqbāl) is on November 9, and is a national holiday in Pakistan.…

Have you forgotten?

Then my heart of old times

That college of LOVE

The whip that bright eyes hold

Have you fogotten?

Not in this spacious fold

Nor any calm nook

This world is weird

Neither cage nor nest

Have you forgotten?

Out of my flesh and blood

You made this universe

It quenchless fever,

The Martyr’s Golden Crown

Have you forgotten?

My days are supported

by your alms

I have no complaints,

against friends

nor the time scold

Then my heart of old times

That college of LOVE

The whip that bright eyes hold

Have you forgotten?

Have you forgotten?

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