In the fragrant scent of Rumt-ul-Kubra, Delhi is remembered; that same glory, that same grandeur, and that same pride of the heart are recalled.

My friends, this couplet is a poignant tribute to Delhi, painted with the colors of deep nostalgia. The poet, Allama Iqbal, isn't just missing a city; he's missing the very essence of its glory. He says that in the splendor of 'Rawmat-ul-Kubra' (the great splendor), all that remains is the memory of Delhi—its historical grandeur, its unparalleled might, and the unique charm that resides in the heart. It's a powerful declaration of identity and belonging.