M6:1103 — آن‌چنان کر شد عدو رشک‌خو / گوید این چندین دهل را بانگ کو

Translation: So deaf became the envious foe, / "Where is the sound of all these many drums?" he asks. Meaning: Mawlana describes a state where an inner enemy, driven by envy and ill-will, becomes so spiritually deaf that even amidst a resounding clamor of truth, it perceives utter silence.

This verse, in my estimation, offers a stark yet illuminating portrayal of an inner human condition. Mawlana speaks of the ʿadu-yi rashk-khū, the 'envious foe'—an enemy whose very nature is interwoven with envy and malice. This adversary, I insist, is not to be sought outside oneself; it is the suppressed conscience, the inner resistance that defies the call of truth. This call might initially manifest as a whisper, like the bashīr (bearer of good news) speaking gently into the ears of the sorrowful. Yet, if ignored, it gradually escalates into a clamor.

Mawlana describes the state of this foe with striking clarity: "Chūn kunī khāmush kunūn ay yār-i man / K-az bon-i har mū bar-āmad tabl-zan?" (How will you now be silent, my friend, / When from the root of every hair a drum-player has arisen?) This implies that the truth is no longer a gentle intimation, but a pervasive, drumming awareness that emanates from the very core of one's being. It has become so manifest and widespread that there is no escaping it. Yet, this internal enemy, consumed by envy and spiritual inertia, not only fails to hear this cacophony but asks with bewildered incredulity: "Gūyad īn chandīn dohol rā bang kū?" (He asks, 'Where is the sound of all these many drums?') He sees the drums, but his ears are sealed to their sound.

This 'deafness' is not mere inattention; it is an active 'un-hearing,' a deliberate spiritual blindness. This internal foe feigns deafness and blindness to avoid confronting truth. Mawlana elaborates on this condition with further examples: "Mī-shikanjad, mī-zanad bar rawish-i rayḥān ke tarī-st / Ū ze kōrī gūyad īn āsīb chīst?" (One caresses, presses upon him with fresh basil / He, from blindness, says, 'What is this harm?') The delicate touch of rayḥān (basil, symbolizing divine grace and spiritual intimations) is perceived as 'harm' rather than caress. Similarly, when a ḥūr (celestial being) approaches him with affection, this deaf and blind individual mistakes it for pain and torment, asking: "Īn kashākash chīst bar dast-o tanam? / Khufte-am bogzār tā khwābī kunam." (What is this struggle upon my hand and body? / I am asleep, let me dream my dream.) He clings to the slumber of heedlessness, perceiving awakening as an unwelcome disturbance.

This narrative is not merely an illustration; it is a profound warning. It cautions us against allowing this 'envious foe' to gain ascendancy, lest we seal the ears of our souls to the incessant calls of awakening and awareness. Truth, I contend, is perpetually beating its drums, from the finest hair of the soul to the grandest cosmic events. It is we who must awaken and open our eyes and ears to perceive these sounds and signs; otherwise, in our slumber of heedlessness, we will mistake the caress of a ḥūr for harm and dismiss the drums of truth as silent.

Key takeaways

• The 'envious foe' is an internal enemy that, through envy and resistance to truth, deafens the soul.
• The inability to perceive truth is not due to the absence of divine calls, but to a deliberate inner deafness.
• The call to awaken can become so pervasive, drumming from every hair, yet the internal enemy remains deaf.
• An inner self afflicted by envy and heedlessness will interpret divine grace and spiritual intimations as pain or harm.
• This verse serves as a profound warning to remain vigilant and not resist the call of truth, even when it has become a clamor.