M6:131 — بر سر بارو یکی مرغی نشست / از سر و از دم کدامینش بهست‌؟

Translation: Upon a rampart, a bird did alight; Of its head or its tail, which is more right?

Meaning: This verse poses a seemingly simple question about the superiority of a bird's head versus its tail, but it fundamentally shifts the focus from intrinsic parts or apparent position to the crucial role of orientation and direction.

Here, Rumi narrates a seemingly simple story, posing a question to a preacher: a bird is perched on a city rampart; which part of it, its head or its tail, is more noble? Our immediate inclination is to ponder the intrinsic value or hierarchical superiority of physical parts. However, the preacher's response, delivered 'to the measure of the questioner's understanding,' enacts a profound semantic and ontological shift.

The preacher, dismissing the inherent worth of 'head' or 'tail,' redirects the entire inquiry to their orientation. He declares: 'If its face be towards the city and its tail towards the village, know that its face is superior to its tail. But if its tail be towards the city and its face towards the village, be the dust of that tail and jump from its face.' In other words, if the tail faces prosperity and the city, while the head faces wilderness and desolation, then the tail is superior. What matters is the bird's alignment, its direction, not its anatomical composition.

This simple tale unravels one of Rumi's deepest insights: valuation is based not on intrinsic nature, but on one's himmat (resolve), sowdā (aspiration), azm (determination), and ārmān (ideal). This echoes Rumi's earlier teaching in Book 3 concerning the 'rope of God' (ḥabl Allāh): 'The rope has no fault, O stubborn one, since you had no aspiration to climb upwards.' The rope itself is neutral, without inherent direction; it is the sowdā and himmat of the one grasping it that determines whether it leads to the heavens or the bottom of a well. The Quran, the Masnavi, or any sacred text, in the absence of the reader's aspiration, remains like a sealed book on a shelf. It is the human being, through their orientation and intention, who breathes life and meaning into these texts, transforming them into either healing balm or lethal poison. We are vāhib al-suwar, the 'givers of forms' and direction to inanimate things.

Rumi posits that a person's stature is commensurate with 'the ceiling of their aspirations.' It is not their physical appearance, their race, or their social standing, but rather what they seek and the himmat that drives their pursuit, which determines their true worth. An eagle that hunts a mouse, noble as an eagle may be, is thereby 'degraded.' Conversely, an owl whose inclination is towards the king is 'the chief of eagles,' regardless of its uncomely appearance. As Rumi says elsewhere concerning a fellow pilgrim on the Hajj: 'Look not at his temperament or his color, but look at his resolve and his purpose.' What truly places an individual on the path of truth is not their lineage or class, but their azm (resolve) and āhang (purpose) to reach the destination. This perspective shifts our criteria for evaluation from superficial appearance to profound inner intention, imbuing the essence of 'action' with meaning in the light of 'direction' and 'goal'.

Key takeaways

• The supremacy of orientation and intention over the intrinsic nature of objects and actions.
• Rumi asserts that human value is determined by the 'ceiling of their aspirations' and resolve, not by superficial characteristics.
• The meaning derived from sacred texts (like the Quran and Masnavi) is shaped by the reader's sowdā (aspiration) and intention.
• Humans, as 'givers of forms' (vāhib al-suwar), imbue inanimate objects with direction and meaning.
• The resolve and purpose of a spiritual journey (such as Hajj) transcend race or appearance, indicating true worth.