M6:2910 — آن هنر فی جیدنا حبل مسد / روز مردن نیست زان فنها مدد

Translation: Those skills, a rope of palm fiber around our necks, On the day of death, no succor from those arts. Meaning: Our worldly skills and cleverness, far from bringing us closer to the Divine, become shackles around our necks, offering no aid on the day of reckoning.

In this verse and the surrounding context, Rumi offers a profound classification of human 'arts' and 'skills' (honarhā and fonūn). Honar here denotes those worldly abilities and acquired proficiencies in which humans take pride, believing them to be their ultimate guide. Rumi, drawing on the tale of Sultan Mahmud and the thieves, underscores that all these skills, from thievery and cunning to philosophical speculation and rational planning, are ultimately nothing more than a ḥabl-i masad—a rope of palm fiber that binds us, enslaving rather than liberating. The phrase ḥabl-i masad carries an undeniable Quranic resonance, recalling the verses in Surat al-Masad that describe the fate of Abu Lahab's wife with this very image.

I have often stated that Rumi was at odds with philosophers and those who contented themselves with mere 'thought' (andīshe) and 'argument' (istidlāl). He would say, 'The philosopher killed himself with thought' (falsafī khwud rā ze andīshe bokosht), ultimately straying from the true Beloved and becoming ensnared in the veil of his own 'words, concepts, and terminologies.' This 'art' of philosophy, for Rumi, does not lead to 'vision' (ruʾyat) but merely leaves 'abstractions' (maʿqūlāt) in one's hand. This is precisely the critique leveled against all worldly arts in this beyt: they do not awaken us from 'heedlessness' (ghaflat), but rather fatten it. Man circles around his own existence, instead of seeking what lies beyond and above himself. This self-infatuation and self-deception keep man trapped in the well of the 'ego' (nafs).

I have previously recounted the Gospel's query: 'What profit is it if someone gains the whole world yet forfeits his soul?' and spoken of the profound impact such words can have on a receptive heart. This is precisely what Rumi expresses here in different terms. We meticulously scrutinize dozens of shops to buy a pair of shoes, fearing we might overpay, yet we 'sell ourselves cheap' (arzān forūshī khwīsh), bartering our very soul and existence for these worthless 'skills.' This 'selling oneself cheap' in Rumi's view is a sign of unawareness of one's true worth and value.

Rumi emphasizes that these 'arts' are nothing without 'Divine grace' (ʿināyāt-e Ḥaqq). Man cannot reach his destination merely by his own deeds and abilities; 'Without the grace of God and His chosen ones, even if one is an angel, his scroll is black.' That 'final touch' can only be bestowed by God upon the 'copper' of our deeds to transform them into 'gold,' making them weighty in the Divine balance. All these 'skills' that man boasts of are 'road-ghouls' (ghūl-e rāh)—bandits that distract us from our true destination.

In contrast to these heed-inducing arts, Rumi speaks of a 'quality' (khāṣiyat) that is 'sweet-aired' (khwush-hawā) and that is 'King-recognition' (shāh-shenāsī). The thief who, in the dark, recognized Sultan Mahmud, whose eye was 'king-knowing' (shah-shenās), possessed a different art. That art is the ability to overlook the seduction of 'bounties' (niʿmat) and instead focus on the 'Host' (ṣāḥib-khāne). We are guests in this world, yet many of us become engrossed in the 'refreshments' (sharbat) and forget the Host. This is 'inverting cause and effect': we eat to live and remember God, yet we imagine we live to eat. Our worldly arts lead us into this error, whereas true art demands 'an eye that is king-knowing, that it may recognize the King in every guise.' Such an eye 'pierces causes' (sabab sūrākh-kon) and finds the roots, rather than remaining preoccupied with deceptive appearances and techniques.

Key takeaways

• Worldly skills are shackles around man's neck, binding him to temporal concerns.
• Human arts and cleverness, without Divine grace, offer no aid or benefit on the day of death.
• Self-absorption and heedlessness of the Transcendent are products of these superficial 'arts,' hindering the recognition of Truth.
• Man must not devalue his own existence by selling himself cheap for worldly pursuits and fleeting 'skills'.
• The only truly salvific 'art' is 'King-recognition' (knowing God), which liberates man from heedlessness.
• Life in this world is a feast where the main purpose is to know the 'Host,' not merely to consume the 'bounties' and 'refreshments'.