"Mai Bhi Koi Gul Hoon Ki Khamosh Rahun"
- Aniket Awasthi
- Jul 19, 2025
- 4 min read
An Essay on the Beauty, Power, and Moral Philosophy of Iqbal's Shikwa and Jawab-e-Shikwa
I have a shikwa; and I am not a flower that I will remain silent. On my birthday; 21 April 2025; I stood at जम्बूद्वीपे भारतखण्डे आर्यावर्ते अवन्तिकायां उज्जयिन्यां महाकाले शिवालये गर्भगृहे। I did not go to worship but to lodge a shikwa; with dirt in my mouth.
Before that day, I had asked only for strength - रूपं, जयम्, यशः, द्वेषोजहि. I never expected any outcome in my life. I accepted everything that was given to me. For the first time in my life; I asked my God for someone.
Complain to his God maybe the most unblemished form of love that a man can do to his God.
In the vast landscape of Urdu literature, few works have stirred hearts and minds like Allama Muhammad Iqbal’s Shikwa (Complaint) and Jawab-e-Shikwa (Response to the Complaint). Written in the early 20th century at a time of deep disillusionment among South Asian Muslims, these poems not only reinvigorated poetic discourse but redefined how literature could engage with faith, identity, and divine love.
Critics have long debated the ideological undertones of these poems — some finding within them romanticized notions of conquest, Arab-centrism, or revivalist politics. Such critiques have their place, and engaging with them is vital for understanding the broader context of Iqbal’s thought. However, it must be said clearly and unapologetically: this is not a critique of one of the most beautiful compositions ever written.
To read Shikwa and Jawab-e-Shikwa is not merely to consume literature — it is to witness a soul in passionate conversation with the Divine, wrestling with despair, longing, hope, and responsibility. The title of this essay — "Mai bhi koi gul hoon ki khamosh rahun" (Am I some mere flower that I should remain silent?) — is a declaration of that bold love, a refusal to be passive in the face of spiritual crisis. Iqbal's poems are not just masterpieces of poetic language; they are moral documents, spiritual blueprints, and emotional outcries that continue to resonate across generations.
Shikwa is not a rebellion; it is devotion in pain
Iqbal opens Shikwa with hesitation; he knows the weight of what he is about to say. To complain to God is not something a believer takes lightly. Still, he speaks; not out of defiance but love. The kind of love that cannot survive in silence.
“Shikwa Allah se, khakam-ba-dahan hai mujh ko”
His mouth is filled with dust; yet his heart pushes the words out. This is not ego; this is surrender.
Silence is not always a sign of faith
Iqbal does not see value in staying quiet when the heart is burning. When devotion turns to confusion; speech becomes necessary. The believer has a right to ask. And he does.
“Mai bhi koi gul hoon ki khamosh rahun?”
He is not a flower; he is a voice. One that needs to be heard.
God does not reject the complaint; He responds
Jawab-e-Shikwa is not a punishment; it is a response filled with sorrow and love. God does not silence Iqbal; He answers him. The answer is not cold. It is deeply emotional.
“Yeh shikwa bhi tha ik tarz-e-dua, mein bhi”
A complaint is accepted as a prayer; if the heart behind it is sincere.
Ritual without passion is hollow
Iqbal criticizes a faith that has turned mechanical. The call to prayer still rings; but the hearts are empty. The outer structure remains; the spirit is missing.
“Masjidon mein bajti hai azaan lekin Dil nahin banta Musalmaan ka”
He asks for more than identity; he asks for intensity.
It was love; not strategy; that made Islam flourish
The early Muslims did not win the world through fear or force. They won through love; the kind of love that moves nations. Iqbal says that this love is missing now.
“Ishq tha Fatih-e-Alam; main to Islam hua”
He became Muslim in form; but the fire is gone.
The past was great; but we cannot live in it
Iqbal remembers the past not to worship it; but to challenge the present. Those who came before us were builders; seekers; warriors of truth. We are left with their names; not their qualities.
“Thay tumharey aabaa faqat sipahi-e-IslamTum ho wahi fasl-e-khizan; woh gul-e-bahaar thay”
There is no glory in nostalgia. Glory comes from action.
God does not promise power; He demands character
The response in Jawab-e-Shikwa is clear. Power is not guaranteed. It is earned. If Muslims want to rise again; they must return to what made them strong.
“Woh Sabaq phir padh sadaqat ka; adalat ka; shujaat ka”
Truth; justice; and courage. That is the formula.
Protest is not distance from God; it is a path back to Him
Iqbal shows that even when we cry out; even when we are angry or confused; we are still close. The act of speaking to God is itself a connection. Silence is death; expression is life.
“Yeh shikwa bhi tha ik tarz-e-dua”
The one who protests is still in conversation.
Iqbal is not offering comfort; he is offering responsibility
There is no false hope here. There is no promise of easy success. What he offers is a chance. A challenge. Rise; not because the world owes it to you; but because you owe it to your soul.
God’s silence is not rejection; it is waiting
Iqbal believes God is still near. Still listening. Still ready. What He wants is our effort; our change; our return.
“Wahi jahan hai tera jo tu karey paida”
You can still shape the world; but you must be willing to build.
Faith is not imitation; it is creativity
Iqbal’s idea of Islam is not about copying the past. It is about reviving its soul. You are not asked to mimic the early Muslims; you are asked to understand what made them who they were.
These poems teach us how to love; honestly and actively
Iqbal does not show love as blind loyalty. His love is raw; it demands truth. It protests; it weeps; it reflects; but it does not walk away. That is the kind of love these poems carry. The kind that survives storms.
Shikwa and Jawab-e-Shikwa are not just poems. They are conversations. They begin in protest; and end in hope. They begin with distance; and lead to return. They remind us that silence is not always noble; and speech is not always sin.
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