Buland-iqbaal

Raise your selfhood so high that, before issuing every decree of destiny, God Himself asks you: tell me, what is your wish?

Iqbal is not without hope, even from his barren field — let there be a little moisture, cupbearer, and this soil is wonderfully fertile.

A lofty gaze, speech that wins the heart, a soul that burns with feeling — this alone is the travelling kit a caravan's leader needs.

I wander about, Iqbal, searching for my own self — as if I am at once the traveller and the destination.