M6:3529 — روز کشتن روز پنهان کردنست / تخم در خاکی پریشان کردنست

Translation: The day of planting is the day of concealing; it is the scattering of seeds in a (hiding) soil. Meaning: Rumi suggests that the act of "planting" – giving, striving, and acting in this world – is akin to concealing a treasure that will manifest and bear fruit in the future.

This couplet is one of those profound insights where Mawlana depicts divine wisdom through the simple metaphors of everyday life. Ostensibly, "planting" is an act leading to growth, to the emergence of a plant from the soil. Yet, Mawlana, with his characteristic acuity, points to the hidden aspect of this action: "The day of planting is the day of concealing." When you cast a seed into the earth, you are, in essence, hiding it. This seed, this tiny kernel, must be veiled from sight, scattered deep within the soil, to germinate and ultimately rise.

This serves as a fundamental allegory for the reality of this world and its relationship with the next. This world, as the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) stated, is "the farm of the Hereafter" (al-Dunya Mazraʿat al-Akhirah). What we sow here are seeds that are concealed in the soil of heedlessness (ghafalat) and the veil of this world. Today, we "scatter seeds in a disordered soil," meaning we act, we strive, we exert effort, and sometimes we give and sacrifice; however, we do not see the immediate and overt results of these actions. These deeds, like hidden seeds, are buried in the depths of time and the Unseen, to bear fruit and become manifest at harvest time, that is, in the other world. That day, as Mawlana says, "is the day of reward and of appearing."

This perspective is inseparably linked to the logic of ghafalat (heedlessness) that Mawlana repeatedly emphasizes. We exist in a state of heedlessness upon which the order of this world is built. If humans were to see the results of their actions moment by moment and overtly, life as it is now would never sustain itself. It is precisely this hiddenness of consequence, this temporal gap between sowing and reaping, that compels us to continue living with greed and envy, with hope and fear, ensuring, in Mawlana's words, that "the pot of tribulation (or suffering) does not remain half-cooked." If the veil of heedlessness were torn away, the order of the world would collapse.

Therefore, our actions in this world, whether good or bad, are all seeds that are planted. They do not vanish, they are not lost; rather, they remain concealed. What we give away and seemingly lose is not truly lost; instead, it remains and will, in another place and at another time, manifest as reward or retribution. For this reason, Mawlana reminds us that "what we gave, we saw this very moment." That is, whatever we seemingly lose in this world, we are in fact storing it for the next world. Stinginess stems from our perception of permanence as annihilation, while generosity arises from seeing annihilation as permanence. This couplet is an invitation to a deeper contemplation of the cycle of life and death, of action and recompense, and of the hidden connection between this world and the other.

Key takeaways

• Our actions in this world are seeds planted for the next.
• Planting, meaning giving and striving, is actually concealing an investment for the future.
• This world is the farm of the Hereafter: we sow today, we reap tomorrow.
• Our heedlessness of the direct results of our actions is the pillar sustaining the order of this world.
• What we seemingly lose in this world actually remains and will manifest in the next.
• Stinginess arises from seeing permanence as annihilation; generosity from seeing annihilation as permanence.