Imam Bi

Imam bi

Allama Iqbal's mother was the great woman who gave birth to this man-of-the-moment awareness, which, through her shocking poetry, breathed new life into the dead of the Muslim Ummah, showed a new light of hope in the darkness of despair, love to the young Familiar with Vijnan's delight, taught himself about the temples and shook the foundations of Western civilization and philosophy.

Allama Iqbal's father, Sheikh Noor Muhammad, was married to a Kashmiri family in Sialkot district, Mombasa. His wife and mother Iqbal's name was Imam B. Imam B used to call everyone "Sab Ji". She was unfamiliar with writing. Only she knew the prayers which she regularly performed. Despite being illiterate, Hu was a woman of understanding, courteous, and kind.

Family disputes were handled well and were very popular among the local women.

Thanks to her natural ass and kindness, no one could see her in trouble. It was their duty to help the poor in a way that no one knew. Another method of theirs was to bring three or four daughters of ten-year-old poor households into their homes and become their sponsors.

Teach them affairs of the family, teach sewing embroidery, read religious education in addition to reading to their daughter-in-law. Then, after seeing a suitable relationship, marry them. As long as those girls were in their custody. They take care of them like their daughters and leave them like daughters during the marriage. After marriage, the girls come to them just as their daughters do.

Iqbal's mother passed away on November 9, 1914 and was buried in Imam Sahib's grave. Incidentally, this is also his birthday on November 9, and though Iqbal was 37 years old at the death of his mother, he felt the death of his mother in the same way as an inferior child. All memories and fond memories of childhood were associated with the mother. You suffered severe trauma and were heartbroken for several days.

Once in front of Abdul Majid Salak, he said that when Sialkot used to go and his mother would say in a fright. “My ear has come.” So I started to think of myself as a little boy in front of them. He expresses the same spirit in his poetry.

We come down from the cliffs of life

We remain simple in the company of mother

Regarding the death of his mother, Iqbal wrote Shahad on Maharaja Kishan:

"Ah man, how good is it to hide one's weakness?

The name of helplessness is called patience and then attribute this patience to their courage. But this accident has caused a profound change in my mood. For me, my interest in world affairs and the desire to grow in the world was only at the heart of Mother's. Now, this is the condition that awaits death. Death in the world reaches all human beings, and sometimes human death. The current state of my heart is that it does not reach me, somehow I reach it. ”