Neither This World nor the Next: On Inner Freedom and Conscious Awareness

 

ترے آزاد بندوں کی نہ یہ دنیا نہ وہ دنیا

یہاں مرنے کی پابندی وہاں جینے کی پابندی

“Your free souls belong to neither this world nor the next;
Here they are bound by the condition of dying,
There they are bound by the condition of living.”

Iqbal is not speaking about political or social freedom, but inner and spiritual freedom.

• The “free souls” are those who have broken free from fear, greed, blind tradition, and dependency.

• In this world, such people cannot live comfortably, because truth, awareness, and integrity often demand sacrifice — it feels like living while dying.

• In the hereafter, they are not motivated by reward or fear of punishment. Even paradise does not define them; therefore, mere “living” there feels like another limitation.

Allama Muhammad Iqbal writes of a rare human condition when he speaks of “free souls” who belong to neither this world nor the next. This is not a rejection of life, faith, or responsibility; rather, it is a description of what happens when awareness matures beyond fear, desire, and borrowed meanings. Such a state is unsettling because it removes the comfort of automatic belonging. Yet it is also deeply honest.

In ordinary life, most human behavior is governed by conditioning. Thought arises, and we obey it. Desire appears, and we pursue it. Fear whispers, and we retreat. Neuroscience describes this as patterned neural activity—loops formed through repetition, memory, and survival instinct. The mind functions efficiently, but not freely. Life is lived largely on autopilot.

At some point, however, a subtle shift can occur. Without deliberate effort, the authority of thought weakens. Thoughts still arise, but they are seen rather than followed. Emotion still moves, but it no longer defines identity. This is the pause—the quiet interval in which awareness observes the mind instead of being ruled by it. Nothing dramatic announces this change. There is no clear beginning. Only the realization that something essential has altered.

This is the state Iqbal alludes to. A person who sees clearly cannot fully belong to the world of ambition, status, and endless striving. Such a world demands participation through attachment, but awareness dissolves blind attachment. One continues to work, fulfill duties, and engage with life, yet inwardly there is a distance—a dying of old compulsions. This is the “bondage of dying” in the world: the slow death of illusion while still living among it.

Yet even the promise of the hereafter does not entirely contain such a person. When faith matures from fear-based belief into direct understanding, reward and punishment lose their central power. Paradise is no longer a motivation; hell is no longer a threat. What remains is truth, responsibility, and presence. This is the “bondage of living” in the next world: existence itself feels secondary to awareness.

Iqbal’s concept of khudi—the realized self—is often misunderstood as ego or power. In truth, it is the opposite. It is the self that no longer needs validation, continuity, or narrative. It stands upright not because it expects reward, but because clarity demands integrity. Such a self is free, yet that freedom carries weight. Without illusions, one must live consciously.

This condition is sometimes mistaken for dissatisfaction, burnout, or withdrawal from society. In reality, it is a form of existential maturity. The individual does not escape life; life begins to move through them without resistance. Work continues. Relationships continue. Responsibilities remain. But the inner compulsion has softened. Action arises from understanding rather than anxiety.

In this sense, the free soul belongs neither here nor there—not because it rejects existence, but because it is no longer confined by psychological constructs of meaning. It lives in awareness itself. Iqbal’s verse is not a lament; it is a precise observation of what happens when a human being awakens to consciousness beyond conditioning.

Such freedom is rare, quiet, and often lonely. But it is also truthful. And perhaps, in an infinite universe where no knowledge is final, this honesty is the highest form of faith.