M6:1284 — چونک آید خیزخیزان رحیل / گم شود زان پس فنون قال و قیل

Translation: When the hurried departure arrives, Then all arts of 'he said, they said' vanish. Meaning: This verse warns that at the moment of death and the ultimate journey, all superficial knowledge, debates, and theological sophistries become irrelevant and are lost.

This verse, without any obfuscation, is an admonition and warning from Mowlana to those who spend their lives in external clamor and the superficial debates of knowledge and gnosis. I have reiterated this in my lectures numerous times: Mowlana, unlike certain theologians and philosophers, attaches no real value to the “arts of ‘he said, they said’” (fūnūn-i qīl-o qāl), which tend to lead more to sophistry and boasting than to the search for truth.

“Khīzkhīzān rahīl” is a profoundly meaningful expression for the moment of death. It is that moment when, with a reproachful command, one is told: “Arise, it is time to depart, you no longer have leave to stay.” In that crucial instant, all the skills and techniques one employed for rhetoric, debate, and impressing others simply vanish. All those eloquent pronouncements, grand speeches, and high-sounding scientific and philosophical terms that once adorned gatherings disappear. It is as if all the theatrics and claims of superiority fade before the stark reality of death, leaving no trace behind.

Following this, “the world of silence arrives, halt!” (ʿālam-i khāmūshī āyad pīsh, bīst). There is no more conversation, no more 'he said, they said'. The individual is left alone with themselves, in an absolute “world of silence.” Here, there is no audience, no assembly in which to boast or engage in rivalry. Mouths are sealed, and truth reveals itself in its rawest form. It is at this moment that one returns to oneself and discerns whether there is anything truly substantial within.

What Mowlana declares with utmost clarity is, “Woe to him who finds no inner companionship” (way ānke dar darūn insī-sh nīst). This great “woe” befalls anyone who, in this “world of silence” and absolute solitude, finds no inner garden, no sanctuary, no beautiful vista within themselves. Everything they look upon within is either a barren, scorching desert, or ugly landscapes, or a landfill of vices. There is nothing with which to feel intimate, to find joy, or to attach one's heart. This is the absolute destitution that is worse than a hundred deaths; for all external, borrowed things have crumbled, and the interior is devoid of any true capital. This is Mowlana’s grave warning to false claimants of insight and gnosis who adorn themselves outwardly but are inwardly impoverished.

In contrast to this destitution and reliance on externals, Mowlana points to the solution: “Polish the breast for a day or two / Make that mirror your ledger” (ṣayqalī kon yek do rūzī sīne rā / daftar-e khod sāz ān āyīne rā). Instead of all this clamor, instead of self-promotion and feigned knowledge and piety, sit down and polish your heart. Make your heart a mirror in which truths are reflected, rather than a collection of borrowed words and philosophical terms. This polished heart, a “heart white as snow” (del-e aspīd hamchōn barf), is the true ledger of the Sufi, where there are no writings or letters, but only truth reflected. It is in this way that one can prepare an inner companionship for their own “world of silence.”

Key takeaways

• Death marks the end of intellectual debates and external displays; what truly remains is inner substance.
• At the moment of final departure, all superficial rhetorical and intellectual skills become worthless.
• Woe to those who, in the absolute silence of death, find no inner companionship or treasure within themselves, experiencing absolute destitution.
• Mowlana is a fierce critic of those who feign knowledge and mysticism, polluting truth with sophistry and boasting.
• The solution lies in polishing the heart and breast, transforming it into a mirror for reflecting truth, rather than a ledger of empty words.