M6:1452 — قبله کردم من همه عمر از حول / آن خیالاتی که گم شد در اجل

Translation: All my life, out of strabismus (double-vision), I made my qibla towards those illusions that vanished at the moment of death. Meaning: This verse expresses humanity's profound regret after death, when one realizes a lifetime was spent chasing illusions that held no reality and, with the arrival of fate, dissolved like foam on water.

This verse emerges from Rumi's profound interpretation of the noble Prophetic tradition: "The departed are not concerned with death, but with the regret of lost opportunities" (ليس للماضين همّ الموت، إنما لهم حسرة الفوت). This tradition is a key to understanding this verse and underpins many of Rumi's reflections. I assert unequivocally that Rumi here intends not censure or blame, but rather, with psychological and epistemological depth, portrays the human condition. Regret, in this world, is a form of idleness and waste of time. One must work, strive, and leave the past behind. As Rumi states: "No regret arises from nothingness / When it sees the warmth of the resolute seeker." Yet, after death, this regret transforms into a torment more searing than fire; an agony in which one knows there is no possibility of restitution or redress. The Quran, too, recounts the plea of the deceased: "My Lord, send me back that I may do righteousness in what I have left behind," to which the reply comes: "Indeed, it is but a word he is uttering." This awareness of the futility of regret is what truly consumes the soul. Rumi in this verse says: "All my life, out of hawl (double-vision), I made my qibla towards those illusions that vanished at the moment of death." The term hawl here signifies ahwalī (strabismus or double-vision), which perceives a single reality as two. This is the subtle polytheism (shirk) to which many people succumb: the failure to perceive unity within multiplicity. It is akin to the story of the squinting student in the first book of the Masnavi, who saw one glass as two, and upon breaking one, realized the other was mere illusion. This double-vision, especially when it originates from our delusions and false aspirations, leads humanity to worship "illusions" (khayālāt). We mistake our fantasies for reality and orient our entire lives, our qibla, towards them. But with the arrival of "fate" (ajal), these illusions suddenly vanish, like foam on water that existed for a moment and quickly dissolved, leaving the individual without the "swimming skills" needed for the "sea" of meaning. This is the great lament. The regret of the deceased is not for death itself, but because "we halted upon forms (naqsh-hā)." We spent our entire lives fixated on appearances and superficies, never reaching the depths of meaning. Rumi emphasizes that this world possesses both an outer aspect (foam) and an inner reality (water). We remained upon the foam of appearances, forgetting that foam arises from the sea and draws its sustenance from it. When the "ocean casts aside the foams," meaning when physical bodies and material forms are discarded, one should then go to the graveyard and behold those foams. There, you will ask: "Where is your motion and your vigor?" And from the existential state of those foams, you will hear that this question should be posed not to us, but to the ocean. "How can a form, like foam, stir without a wave? / How can dust, without wind, rise to the heights?" Every cloud of dust implies a wind behind it, and every foam, an ocean beneath it. Therefore, "When you see the foam, behold the ocean of creation (qulzum-e ījād)." The key to liberation from this regret is nazar (gaze, insight), and profound seeing. As Rumi states: "We are all eyes, the rest is but skin." Our essence lies in this penetrating gaze. This seeing, with both inner and outer senses, frees us from the grip of delusions. The Holy Quran, too, invites us to a deep contemplation of all our material and spiritual sustenance: "Let man look to his food." This gaze, this nazar, is the only thing that remains of us and serves our purpose; the rest of our being is merely "fat and flesh, warp and woof" (shahm-o lahm, pūd-o tār) that neither forms a candle nor becomes a kebab.

Key takeaways

• The deceased's regret is not for death itself, but for lost opportunities; death is inevitable, but inaction is a choice.
• The term hawl in the verse signifies ahwalī (double-vision), the failure to perceive unity within multiplicity, which is the root of delusion and subtle polytheism.
• Living based on 'illusions' (khayālāt) and fantasies leads one to worship unreality, which vanishes upon death.
• True regret after death is not constructive but destructive, as there is no longer any possibility of restitution.
• Liberation lies in profound insight (nazar); one must pass beyond the 'foam' of appearances and behold the 'ocean' (qulzum) of meaning and existential reality beneath.
• Rumi advocates pragmatism in confronting regret: instead of dwelling in remorse, one must strive in this world to prevent post-mortem regret.