THE SECRETS OF THE SELF (ASRAR E KHUDI)) ALLAMA DR. SIR MUHAMMAD IQBAL

POETIC RENDERING BY BASHIR SACRANIE The Secrets of the Self - Iqbal

FOREWORD

I can barely explain the whys and hows of this enter- prise, and its outcome that I here present. It came about without any real will or purpose on my part. It is only now that I cast my mind back and ‘join the dots’ that I can rationalise it and give readers some sense of the course and motivation of this work.

Iqbal did not mean much to me. I had heard his name in my childhood when, in the early years after Pakistan’s formation, the Indian Muslims in the then Nyasaland celebrated Pakistan Day. I knew Allama Iqbal was one of its founding fathers and that he was a great poet and intellect. There were speeches and Jinnah and Iqbal were mentioned with great rever- ence.

The abiding memory for me of these occasions is that, at the age of 6 years, I stood on the stage in front of a crowded cricket field and sang, “Hum dard ka afsana duniya ko suna dengeh”, an Islamic song from a 1947 Bollywood movie. This little performance significantly affected and influenced my life, but that is another matter.

The next significant nudge from ‘fate’ was my meet- ing in 1975 with the man who changed the very course of my life and my ‘raison d’etre’. His name was Shaykh Al Hajj Sayyed Ali Asgar Shah Shirazi; he was called Bawa, or Baba, by all who came to know The Secrets of the Self - Iqbal him. He was Pakistani and he was the cause of my quite unlikely connection with Pakistan in my mature years.

On my first visit to Bawa in Karachi at his home in the mid 70s, he took me to the shrine of Shah Abdul Latif of Bhittai in Sindh. He knew of my interest in poetry and this was his subtle way of opening my eyes to some of the most beautiful poetry ever written. In quiet moments, he would recite to me the odd verse, his eyes glistening with tears. He then mentioned to me Mawlana Jalalluddin Rumi and gave me a book of some of his poetry that had been rendered into Urdu.

Despite my relatively sketchy knowledge of these languages, the poetry made a big impression on me and set me off on a quest for these works in English.

A decade or so ago, I rendered some of Rumi poetry into lyrical verse and published The Ishq of Rumi. Two years ago I did the same of the Qasida Burdah of Imam Busiri. In my occasional forays into Urdu poetry, I was reminded of the Master, Allama Iqbal, and latterly found his Asrar e Khudi, The Secrets of the Self, translated from the original Persian into Eng- lish, by R A Nicholson, the eminent orientalist and scholar of Islamic ‘mysticism’. It was published in around 1920 - a hundred years ago. The Secrets of the Self - Iqbal

I read the English version with mixed feelings, and also listened to some of it being recited in Urdu. Of course, the latter was much more powerful and im- passioned than the former.

In the mid 90s, I had collaborated with a Pakistani living in the UK, who had a close connection with Us- tad Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, the great Qawwal, to bring him, for the first time, to perform at the Royal Albert Hall. This added to my education and cultural orien- tation. Here, coincidentally, I met Imran Khan, who was then still involved in cricket commentary, but rather more actively engaged in building a cancer hospital in Pakistan. We negotiated the terms on which Nusrat Khan Sahab would perform at a charity concert to raise funds for the cancer hospital Imran was building in Pakistan in memory of his late moth- er.

That brief encounter with Imran Khan made me inter- ested in his career. Somewhat later, I read his book and found much that resonated with my own thoughts and experiences, and I noted that he was deeply influenced by Iqbal. I followed his slow and troubled trajectory to his eventual success and elec- tion as Prime Minister. I have since listened to his speeches and there is in them a frequent reference to Iqbal and the desire to steer Pakistan back to the ideal of the first Islamic state established by Prophet Muhammad (PBUH). The Secrets of the Self - Iqbal

Some months ago, I downloaded R A Nicholson’s version of The Secrets of the Self, and, as a literary exercise, started rendering it into rhyming couplets, which I felt would be more suggestive of the original.

Slowly, haltingly, doubtingly, I got half way; about 800 verses, after several breaks where I thought I could not sustain the effort and was drying up. Faced with still some 1000 verses to deal with, I abandoned it.

I had noted that, once again, like Bawa and Rumi, people who made a big impression on me invariably .and (ﷺ) were also lovers of the Prophet Muhammad almost throughout my life, I had time and again come across people who were deeply enamoured of the Prophet and who had evinced great beauty of char- acter and conduct, thought and action, reflecting their love for and familiarity with him. Iqbal was one such person, and his influence had brought about the very existence of Pakistan.

I went back to reading Rumi for a while and mar- velled at how this great 13th century saint and poet was touching and influencing lives all over the world, as well as human affairs, 700 years later.

In the background was my regular review of Imran Khan’s talks. He voiced the concerns of millions of others, Pakistanis as well as Muslims abroad, of how far the country had drifted from the original ideal and The Secrets of the Self - Iqbal lost its standing and reverence in the global Muslim society. He spoke of his ambition to reestablish Pa- kistan’s original motivating force, i.e. an Islamic so- cialist state, where every individual was of equal val- ue with every other one; where there was social and economic justice, and the collective of the individual members in the society owed a duty of care and jus- tice to everyone with whom there was social inter- course or connection.

Some two months ago, with Covid lockdowns in full swing, I picked up what I had done, and read through it. It wasn’t bad. To someone reading it for the first time, I dared to say to myself, it could be interesting and rewarding. I thought, let me give it a go and see how much further I can get, still not convinced that I could complete it.

This now is what I have managed to produce. I have tried, as far as possible, to keep the original text of the Nicholson version, reordered, manipulated, adapted and minimally reworded to maintain the rhyme. I would guess that this applies to 90 percent at least of the text. Where the original text would simply not yield to my pedestrian efforts to extract a rhyme, I had to go a step further and reword it suffi- ciently fo achieve the object.

So here it is now. I hope and pray that it does justice to Allama Iqbal and his scholars and admirers. I hope and pray that it doesn’t offend anyone, and hasten to The Secrets of the Self - Iqbal say that none is intended, and, indeed, any such of- fence is due to my ignorance and inadequacies and not due to any malign intent.

May Allah and His Messenger be pleased with it.

Bashir Sacranie - 14th February 2021 The Secrets of the Self - Iqbal

DEDICATION

Prime Minister Imran Khan of Pakistan, whose en- lightened view of the duties and responsibilities of government has been influenced by Allama Iqbal and Mohammad Ali Jinnah and the Prophet of Islam Muhammad RasulAllah (PBUH)

I have a debt of gratitude to:

Mawlana Jalaalluddin Rumi and his heirs, Mawlana Shaikh Nazim Al Haqqani and the Nakshbandi, Mevlevi, Qaderi Orders.

Bawa Ali Asgar Shah Shirazi, his son, Kamal Shah and his progeny

Allama Muhammad Iqbal and his heirs, scholars and adherents.

My parents and theirs.

My sister Fatima Hajat but for whom I would not have been on that stage some 70 years ago. And my sib- lings and children. The Secrets of the Self - Iqbal

AN INTRODUCTORY NOTE - Bashir Sacranie

I put Iqbal’s Asrar e Khudi into the context of the fol- lowing paradigms:

According to the Hadith Qudsi (the inspired sayings of the Prophet quoting the words of God) God says, “I was a Hidden Treasure and I Loved to be Known, and so I created Creation so that I should be Known.” There are profound and important words in this say- ing; “Hidden Treasure”; “Loved”; ‘Known”.

Within each of us is a ‘spark’ of God, which we call the soul, or ‘rooh’. This soul has certain urges and drives Divinely instilled in it. This is Khudi, the Self, in us.

The fundamental urge in humans is to know, to learn. Knowledge is what distinguishes us from the rest of creation. We start life with the knowledge of our mother/father, then our name and our relationship with everything and everyone around us, and so we come to know who we are in the worldly sense. Our sense of “I am” evolves moment by moment. In this sense, we are because we know. We are, in fact, what we know. But we remain temporal entities if we do not exert ourselves to leap beyond the circum- stantial construct of our individuality.

Life is a journey of self discovery. The self, the sense of “I am”, is the Divine gift and faculty to accomplish The Secrets of the Self - Iqbal the ultimate quest of coming to know ourselves and God. This sense of “I-ness”, or the ego, is essential because without it there would be no sense of ‘other- than-I-ness” and so there would not be the quest to know that ‘other-than-I-ness’ and thereby to bring the full sense of ‘I-ness’ to flourish.

This quest goes on right through life and, although it may not be expressed precisely and specifically, it is a never ceasing one to know fundamentally who we are, why we are and where we are going. Invariably, we set ourselves goals and objectives, and we think that when we have achieved those, we shall be ful- filled, satisfied and happy. Invariably we achieve those goals and find that that is not at all what we needed to give us fulfilment. And so we plunge into the next enthralling pursuit, or distraction or escape, or we become immured in passivity, apathy and res- ignation.

The Quran speaks of the covenant that Allah took with the souls of mankind before the creation of the wold: He ordered the souls to arrange themselves before Him and demanded of them, “Am I not your Lord?” And the souls all attested: “Yes, indeed You are!”

There is a saying of the Prophet (PBUH) - He who knows himself certainly knows his Lord . The Secrets of the Self - Iqbal

This brings the Creative Drive to its fruition, a full cir- cle: When we know ourselves we realise that we are given life on earth to actualise and experientially come to discover God, and know Him and thereby we serve our destiny and affirm our attestation: “Yes, You are (Our Lord)”. In Infinity we had attested to this and we have to now affirm that and stake our place in Infinity. Everything on the journey, or, in another sense, pilgrimage, then becomes a station rather than a destination.

One of the Prophet’s most fervent exhortations was: to seek knowledge ‘even it be in China’. Scriptures and revelations are an essential source of knowl- edge. The Quran repeatedly speaks of Allah’s signs that are around and within us and refers also to its verses as signs. It also repeatedly exhorts the seeker to pay attention to the signs in nature and within oneself. It is said God has gifted three principal scrip- tures in Islam, namely, The Quran (as well as the Bibles in their original revealed state), ourselves (our body and mind) and the world around us, including the Universe. Each of these have to be studied and contemplated. In these all are the signs for people of intelligence, the Quran says. Man’s challenge is to devise a complete and harmonious synthesis be- tween these three sources of knowledge and obtain perfect harmony, or peace - Islam.

Life, then, is a journey to seek knowledge and there- by to find oneself and God. Love is an important in- The Secrets of the Self - Iqbal gredient in this. The mother’s love from the moment of birth is perhaps the most obvious manifestation of that something undefinable, that makes one human being place the wellbeing of another before that of oneself.

We name out of love; we call out of love. To be effec- tive, knowledge is learnt and taught best out of love. Out of Love, God created the heavens and the earth, and particularly man, because He blew into Adam His Own Breath/Spirit. He defines His Own principle characteristic as ArRahman, ArRaheem: the Infinitely Compassionate, the Immeasurably Merciful. And the words Rahman and Raheem have imbedded in the them the word RAHM, which means ‘the womb’.

Another Hadith quotes God as saying (in part): My servant draws not near to Me with anything more loved by Me than the religious duties I have enjoined upon him, and My servant continues to draw near to Me with voluntary acts of devotion to the point that I shall love him. When I love him I am his hearing with which he hears, his seeing with which he sees, his hand with which he strikes and his foot with which he walks.” Love is here the imperative, shall, that God applies to Himself. It is a reciprocation for the ser- vant’s love which is evidenced by his exertions.

This quest for knowledge and realisation is from the cradle to the grave, and that knowledge leads to the discovery of the Hidden Treasure that is within our- The Secrets of the Self - Iqbal selves. And when we discover ‘ourselves’ we get to “Know” God and love becomes the oxygen of our existence, and so we fulfil our purpose, our destiny.

But, as Iqbal is at pains to point out, we will not fulfil our destiny by being passive, or quiescent, or retiring from life, but, on the contrary, by taking life as the means of achieving the ultimate goal, and making every moment in it count, with unshakeable courage and conviction, provided we are treading the Path that the Prophet (PBUH) and all the other prophets prescribed, because those are the means, tools and instruments to accomplish this most challenging task assigned to man by God.

By applying the practices that are Divinely pre- scribed, we put to use the spiritual tools that will awaken and quicken the potential within us. Every action we take is meant to be with the conscious- ness of God (Tukwa) so that one makes it count as a rung, a step in our onward journey to the ultimate discovery of Lailaha IlAllah, by means of the way of Muhammad ur Rasulallah, and “we return to Allah, for to Him we belong and to Him is our return.”

The Prophet PBUH is reported as saying that the sum of his mission can be said to be: to perfect hu- man character and conduct. His example in every minute detail displays perfection in every action, in thought word and deed. This is the uswatan hassana - beautiful manners and ways - the perfection of faith, The Secrets of the Self - Iqbal which again is summed up by the edict - to be in life as if you see God, for though you see Him not, yet He sees you.

This is why the Quran directs that we follow the ex- ample of the Prophet, and we can only do that when we familiarise ourselves with his life and character, which includes the Quran, and when we do that, we find that we love him. Love then becomes the cen- tral, motivating force in our lives.

When one considers these simple aphorisms careful- ly, one realises that they encapsulate the entire pur- pose and accomplishment of life. The perfection of character and conduct is the core motivation and such can only be achieved with the constant con- sciousness of God, which is perfected by devotions and personal exertion (the Great Jihad) and it blos- soms into Love of God for the devotee and the devo- tee for God. This is in effect what Rumi calls Love or Ishq.

Refinement and perfection of character and conduct are our individual and collective quest, and success in this qualifies us for the vicegerency for which God created man and the world. This would be the Per- fect Man, the one to whom angels were commanded to prostate themselves by God.

If we recognised and individually achieved this, the world would be a different place today. There would The Secrets of the Self - Iqbal be none of the problems and difficulties that assail human society and the world.

And this is what Iqbal pleads and calls for. It is also what human beings are gradually awakening to in our time.

(C) Bashir Sacranie February 2021 The Secrets of Self - Allama Iqbal

SECRETS OF THE SELF

But yester‐eve, a lamp in hand, The Shaykh all the city panned; Sick that ghosts was all he saw He toiled on to find a man.

$‘Tis Rustam or a Hyder that I seek. Of weak and snaillike men I’m sick!,” In frustration he complained. Haltingly, I explained: “None such have I seen or met. Not one like them here will you get.”

He shook his head and returned, $There"s none like them, but I’m seeking still. And in seeking I will persevere, For part of faith it is to strive, And not surrender to despair”

Based on a poem by Mawlana Jalaalluddin Rumi

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Prologue

When the effulgent sun rushed. brigand-like, upon the night, My tears upon the rose, like dew, did alight; Sleep was washed from narcissus’ eye, And, awakened, the grass thrust forth t‘wards the sky. I was taught to sing by the Garden’s Lord, He sowed my verse and reaped a sword. My tears’ seed he planted therein, And the garden was filled with my plaintive din. Tho"#I am but a mere mote, the radiant sun is mine: A hundred dawns in my bosom shine. My dust, even than Jamshidʹs cup, is bright; It knows things that have yet to come to light. My thought hunted and has slung, from the saddle, a deer That from non-existence has yet to spring and ap- pear. Fair is my garden ere yet the leaves are green: Unborn roses are hid that my cloak doth screen. The musicians gathered, mute have I struck, For ‘twas the heart‐strings of the universe I rose to pluck. And my genius lute plays a melody rare, That ev’n my friends do strange declare. As a new-born sun in the world come I, A stranger I am to the ways of the sky. The stars from my splendour have yet to flee,

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Nor yet has been quickened my mercury; The sea has not, of my dancing rays, had view, Untouched are the mountains yet by my crimson hue. To existence’s eye I am yet something of a surprise, Afraid and shy, but exuberantly I rise. East-wise I rise to show and drive night away, And, upon the the rose of the world, a dewy blanket lay. I wait for those who for dawn prayer will rise; For them my fire will bring happy surprise. If I’m not heard today, ‘tis no matter of sorrow, I am the voice of the poet who’s to come tomorrow. This present age to my meanings is deaf, Not as yet for sale in this market is my Joseph. Of these jaded companions I despair, It’s for the Moses to come, my Sinai doth flare! Their sea, silent, dew-like lies, But like a stormy sea my dew doth rise. My song for them does nothing bode; This bell calls other travellers to take the road. Many a poet we’ve witnessed, dies, That, when his were closed, has opened our eyes. And from nothingness has anew emerged, When roses ‘pon his grave have resurged. And caravans though this desert have crossed, By silent tread they have there coursed. But, for a lover, I, that for my faith do cry out, Judgment Day’s call is a much milder shout! My song does the chords’ range transcend, But I fear not that my lute ‘twill strain and rend.

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"Twere best that the water drop did not my torrent feel, For the sea would be maddened by my furious zeal. My Oman would not by any river be bound, For my flood will fill seas beyond and around. Until the bud into a roses’ bed doth bloom, To have my spring‐cloudʹs bounty it shall not pre- sume. Lightning in my soul attendant lies, That over plain and mountain, sweeping, flies. Wrestle with my sea, if plain thou art; Receive my lightning on Sinai’s part. The Fountain of Life is for me to imbibe; To the mystery of Life I am bound to subscribe. My burning song has this dust-speck brought alive; Wings unfolded, its self it has cast into a firefly. None hath told the secrets that I will tell, Nor one of flesh and bone threaded pearl-like thoughts as well. Come, if the secret of everlasting life thou would’st know! Come, if thou wouldʹst have Him heaven and earth ‘pon thee bestow! Heaven it is that taught me this lore, This secret I must to my friends outpour.

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Together the leaves of the Scripture are here con- joined. It encourages almsgiving whereby love of riches dies, And with equality it does the pilgrim familiarise; It fortifies the heart and, in righteousness, raises it higher, Wealth it maketh to increase, but lowers for it the de- sire . All this is a means of strengthening thee: If thy Islam be strong, impregnable thou shalt be From the litany,#$O Almighty One!” Do thou draw thy might, That thou mayst ride the camel of thy body well and right.

3. Divine Vicegerency If thou canst rule thy camel, thou wilt rule the world entire, And wear on thine head the crown of Solomon, the peerless sire. Thou wilt be the glory of the world, whilst the world remain, And in the kingdom incorruptible thou wilt reign. "Tis sweet as Godʹs vicegerent in the world to stay, And over the elements to exercise sway. The Secrets of the Self - Allama Iqbal

For the sake of others, like a candle, I burn, And set myself, like a candle, to weep, turn after turn. O God! a tear that sets the heart on fire, Passionate, wrung forth by pain, devours my peace entire! May I sow it in the garden, that it may into a fire grow, That washes away the fire‐brand from the tulipʹs robe! My heart is with yester‐eve, my eye is on the to‐mor- row unknown: Amidst the company of a multitude, I am alone. $Every one himself as my friend doth claim, But to seek my soul’s secrets, none ever came.” Oh, where in the wide world is my comrade? I am the Bush of Sinai: whither has my Moses made? I am tyrannous having done to myself many a wrong, I have nourished a flame in my bosom for painfully long! A flame that the wares of understanding has burnt to ash, And upon the skirt of discretion does fire dash, That with madness hath diminished proud reason’s edge, And inflamed in me the very being of knowledge: Its blaze in the sky enthrones the sun, And lightnings encircle it with endless adoration. Mine eye fell to weeping; like dew my tears fell, Since of that hidden fire the trust in me doth dwell. I taught the candle to burn openly and brightly spell. The Secrets of the Self - Allama Iqbal

While I myself burned, unseen by the worldʹs search- ing stare, And flames burst forth from my every hair. Fire from the veins of my thought did arc: My nightingale picked up the grains of spark, And a fire‐tempered song it did repeat. In the breast of this age, there is no heart beat; Majnun with pain doth quiver and writhe, Because Laylaʹs howdah is empty inside. It is not easy for the candle to throb alone: Ah, a moth worthy of me, is there to be known? How long shall I wait for one to share my grief? How long must I search for a confidant to give me relief? O Thou whose Face to the moon and the stars light endows, This Thy fire from my soul, pray, douse! This, that Thou in my breast hast placed, withdraw, Take, too, this radiance from my mirror, that ever sharper doth grow, Or give me a comrade of the bygone era, To be of mine all‐burning love a burnished mirror! In the sea wave tosses side by side with wave: Each one a partner in its emotion doth have. In heaven star with star doth coordinate its light, And the bright moon lays her head on the knees of Night. Morning from Nightʹs dark side doth borrow, And To‐day throws itself against To‐morrow. One river its being in another loses,