"Why must I forever lose, forever forgo profit that is my due, Sunk in the gloom of evenings past, no plans for the morrow pursue. Why must I all attentive be to the nightingale's lament? Friend, am I as dumb as a flower? Must I remain silent? My theme makes me bold, makes my tongue more eloquent. Dust be in my mouth, against Allah I make complaint."
Muhammad Iqbal

January 1, 1970