Bang-e-Dara · 1904

The Picture of Sorrow

Tasveer-e-Dard

Tasveer-e-Dard — 'The Picture of Sorrow' — is one of the major poems of Iqbal's early period, longer and more searching than the short lyrics around it. The title names its method: the poem sets out to paint a portrait of pain, and the pain it paints is both personal and national.

It opens in the classic posture of the Urdu lyric — the poet alone with a private ache, the heart that cannot rest. But Iqbal does not stay in that private room. He widens the grief outward until the sorrow of one heart becomes the sorrow of a whole land, and the poem turns its gaze on the condition of India itself.

What Iqbal grieves, above all, is disunity. He looks at his homeland and sees a people divided against itself — communities and groups that should be bound together instead pulling apart, blind to a danger that their division leaves them open to. The poem is, in part, an early and anxious warning about exactly the fractures that would later widen.

Running alongside the lament is a reflection on the role of the poet. Iqbal asks what a singer is for in a time of trouble, and the poem's implicit answer is that the poet's sorrow has a purpose: it is meant to wake people, to make a sleeping society feel its own wounds clearly enough to act. Grief, in this poem, is not self-indulgence — it is an alarm.

Formally the poem moves through shifting moods, from intimate melancholy to public exhortation, and it shows the young Iqbal already stretching the lyric beyond private feeling toward something civic and prophetic. The seeds of the later poet of awakening are clearly visible here.

Tasveer-e-Dard endures because it performs a quiet, difficult act that stays relevant: it refuses to let personal pain stay merely personal. Iqbal takes his own ache and holds it up as a mirror to a whole society — and asks the reader to recognise, in one heart's sorrow, a grief that belongs to everyone.

The lines that endure

The most famous verses

Na aata gar tujhe rona qayamat thi judaai mein
Qiyamat ban gayi tera judai mein wafadari
न आता गर तुझे रोना क़यामत थी जुदाई में
क़यामत बन गई तेरा जुदाई में वफ़ादारी
Had you not known how to weep, separation would have been a doom — yet your faithfulness in separation became a doom itself.
Watan ki fikr kar nadan, musibat aane wali hai
Teri barbadiyon ke mashware hain aasmanon mein
वतन की फ़िक्र कर नादाँ, मुसीबत आने वाली है
तेरी बरबादियों के मशवरे हैं आसमानों में
Think of your homeland, O heedless one — calamity is on its way; the plans for your ruin are being drawn up in the skies.
Na samjhoge to miT jaaoge ai Hindostan walon
Tumhari dastan tak bhi na hogi dastanon mein
न समझोगे तो मिट जाओगे ऐ हिन्दोस्ताँ वालो
तुम्हारी दास्ताँ तक भी न होगी दास्तानों में
If you do not understand, you will be erased, O people of India — not even your story will remain among the stories told.