Still searching for Freedom

Poet, Politician & philosopher

Today is essentially a public holiday. Few shops are open, almost all schools are closed [with the exception of my school] , the banks are closed and it seems like an extended Sunday. Where Karachi gets a lot of *unannounced* holidays, today’s closure was ‘announced’ and the reason being? It’s what we call IQBAL DAY.

A day dedicated to remember our visionary leader Allama Iqbal whose far-sighted insight paved the way for ‘Land of the Pure’. Where I’ve met many people rejoicing and discussing their plans for the entire day, I am yet to find the person who actually believes and understands the real reason for this ‘public holiday’.  For the reason we have Iqbal Day is not to shop for groceries or complete pending work, its to remember the poet, philosopher and leader Allama Iqbal was.  And if we really reflect upon this, his guidance was for enlightenment, struggle and education, NOT for a lazy day in the middle of the week!

Alas the Girl from Karachi vents in vain. If this post is any good let it enable us to remember, appreciate and thank our leader. Here is his poem ‘Freedom’ which in my opinion is still relevant even after 60 years of Independence.

Freedom

To my mind those
Days of past are coming
When in the garden was spring
And everyone chirping

Where is such a freedom nowadays
By their own wish one comes and goes

Wound upon my heart is going sore
As upon the tears of dew smiles the flower

That pleasant-seeming picture
That lovely-seeming figure
Prosperous by which
Was my abode

In my home is no more coming
The cry of those who’re humming

Had my freedom been
In the hands of my own!

How misfortunate I am
My own home searching I am!

My friends in their nation
Laying I am in this prison

Spring’s come
Buds of flowers are smiling
In this dark home
About my fate I am wailing

Who in this prison
Will my misfortune listen
I fear that in this nest
Will be my final rest

My garden since I left
This has been my state
Grief with heart is consumed
And heart with grief is consumed

Take this not as a song
O the ones who listen!
Of grief-stricken hearts
This is the sound of a plaint

Free me O warden
From this prison

I am speechless prisoner
Set me free and gain my prayer