The Concept of ‘Khudi’
The ‘Khudi’ of Iqbal, the oft-quoted phrase most every Pakistani is well versed in since childhood. The word isn’t simply linguistic in its enormity, but is molded by he rich contexts and sublime craft of the great poet to embody in a single word what entire books cannot explain. In terms nowhere near as eloquent as those used by the man himself,, I attempt to deliver my interpretation of his vision of ‘Khudi’.
‘Khudi’, or self, is a term we use dozens of times every single day, in casual passing and seldom recognizing its implications and sheer significance. Upon further reflection, augmented with the incision of Iqbal’s words, the meaning starts to become clear, or less shrouded in obscurity at the very least. The self is, quite simply put, the essence of what being human entails. It is the primal distinction between man and beast, providing that one echelon of higher calling that crowns man as the master of this world upon all others who share the realm. ‘Khudi’ is the truest, most naked form of man, burning away layers upon layers of lies, falsehoods and fabricated constructs. It is also the most fundamentally pure of a person; a virgin cloth unsullied by the stains of pride, prejudice and ego. And yet, from mundane origins, ‘khudi’ elevates man to the privilege and prestige to command in Creation. It is the self, and self alone, which bestows drive and purpose to humanity. It is the divine breath of God, breathed gently into mere flesh and bones that signifies nothing more than just a vessel.
The self manifests itself in a multitude of ways. The quavering whisper in your mind, singing to you the melody of your spirit and tempering emotions and impulses. The glowing ember to spark to life overwhelming passion when you find the one soul, the cool breeze to soothe the tempests of rage and sorrow and bring back to you tranquility. It is often said the heart doesn’t lie and how can it? How can it, when it is the epitome of ‘khudi’. ‘Khudi’, however, is not inherently benevolent. It is a double-edged sword, wielded by the whim of the owner. It guides the physically blind to light and the morally blind to abysmal darkness. Self dictates conscience; a criminal driven to seek atonement and redemption and an innocent soul lured by the countless vices of the world. The same self that points the bottle away from the drunkard into the light of sobriety may entice another to find solace in the same drops. The self too, needs nourishment; spiritual energy, healthy company (or lack thereof) and the twin catalysts of faith and belief. It can steer man well clear of the twisted paths to ruin, or snare him in the adverse straits of hopelessness. The loss or corruption of self, the, is no trivial matter; it renders the body an empty shell and, as the saying goes, Nature abhors a vacuum.
Finding your self is a daunting task. Sufi saints in past centuries and the sages and philosophers of old would devote decades of meditation to catch but a glimpse of ‘khudi’ and, through it, glean mere specks of the divine order. The self is a light the burns through the physical body, illuminating it for others to sense. The vibe you get when meeting someone is the communication of selves that we are rarely conscious of. In particular, the self can communicate with the Greatest of all seers and listeners.. In the full context of Iqbal’s immortal utterance, he states that God decrees the destiny of man to be fluid and change under the whim of His humblest servant, given the self is pure and encompasses a certain degree of highness of character; a mark of nobility that no amount of wealth or authority could ever match.
