M1:2790 — من غریبم از بیابان آمدم / بر امید لطف سلطان آمدم

Translation: I am a stranger, I came from the desert / In hope of the Sultan's grace, I have come. Meaning: This verse encapsulates the soul's alienation in the temporal world and its purposeful journey, driven by hope, towards the divine presence and its grace.

This particular verse appears in the middle of the story of the Bedouin and his wife in Book Two of the Masnavi. Yet, I must emphatically state that these are not merely the words of the poor Bedouin; they are, without a shadow of a doubt, Rumi's own voice. Just as Rumi portrays himself as the ney (reed) at the Masnavi's opening with "īn ney (this reed)," here he embodies the Bedouin, a stranger who has arrived from the "desert" of alienation and separation.

To be a gharīb (stranger or alien) alludes to the eternal essence of the human soul. We are but guests in this transient world, strangers indeed. Anyone who has become separated from their origin will find themselves a gharīb in this world. This ghurbat (alienation) is not an existentialist loneliness leading nowhere; rather, it is of the nature of judā'ī (separation)—separation from the Origin, from the primordial homeland. Just as the reed, severed from the neyestān (reed-bed), wails, so too does the soul, severed from the wellspring of existence, lament. The bīābān (desert) symbolizes this world of multiplicity and distance, a place where the soul feels estranged, far from its true sanctuary and home.

However, this journey is far from aimless. Rumi declares that "bar omīd-i luṭf-i sulṭān āmadam" (I came in hope of the Sultan's grace). The Sulṭān (Sultan) here is unmistakably the Divine Essence, the sole absolute sovereign of existence. This hope for the Sultan's luṭf (grace or benevolence) has deep roots in Rumi's mystical gnosis. This hope is the driving force behind the return to one's origin; it is the very promise of wuṣūl (union) and yaqīn (certainty) that the Masnavi offers its readers. It is divine grace that paves the way for the stranger and welcomes him into the Divine court.

Rumi himself, further on in this narrative, illuminates the true intention behind this journey: "tā bidīnjā behr-i dīnār āmadam / chūn rasīdam mast-i dīdār āmadam" (Until now I came for dinars / But once I arrived, I became drunk with the sight). This means the stranger, who initially embarked on a journey for worldly gains (dīnār), upon reaching the Sultan's court and experiencing the allure of the dīdār (sight or presence), finds all his worldly desires fade away, becoming intoxicated with the vision. This transformation signifies a shift from lesser desires to the highest aspiration: from hoping for outward gifts to longing for inner communion. This transformation, in truth, is a report of Rumi's own condition; it is the naqd-i ḥāl (report-of-present-state) that he declares at the beginning of this story. Thus, this verse articulates the very depths of Rumi's being: a stranger who has come from the desert of the ego and multiplicity, and out of passionate yearning for the Sultan's grace, has set his course for the Beloved's abode.

Key takeaways

• Rumi frequently expresses his own existential mystical truths through the voices of his story characters.
• The feeling of ghurbat (alienation) in this world is an inherent characteristic of the soul, separated from its origin.
• The bīābān (desert) symbolizes the world of multiplicity and separation, contrasting with the Sulṭān's court, which represents divine unity and presence.
• Hope for the luṭf-i Sulṭān (divine grace) is the primary motivator for the soul's movement towards wuṣūl (union) and return to its source.
• The soul's journey may begin with worldly motivations but ultimately transforms into a longing for the dīdār (sight/presence) of the true Beloved.