Read Iqbal for a while and you notice who he keeps turning to address: the young. The naujawan, the shaheen-bachche — the falcon-children — recur across his work as the audience he most wants and most trusts.
He did not write to flatter them. He gave the young his hardest material: the call to build a self, to refuse comfort, to aim past the stars. His love, he said plainly, was for the young who fling their lasso at the stars — and his prayer for them asked not for their safety but for their wings, and for his own dawn-time restlessness to pass to them.
There is a lesson in that choice of audience. Iqbal believed the young could take the demanding version of an idea, not only the easy one — and that the best thing an elder can hand down is not comfort but a worthy difficulty. He wrote up to the young, never down.
See it in the verse
Sitaron pe jo dalte hain kamand
Nazar aati hai un ko apni manzil aasmanon mein
Phir in shaheen bachchon ko bal-o-par de