M6:1391 — از توم تهدید کردی هر زمان / بینمت در دست محمود ارسلان

Translation: My mother would always threaten me with your name, saying: 'May I see you fallen into the hands of Mahmud Arsalan!' Meaning: This verse captures the words of a young boy, now favored by Sultan Mahmud, recalling how his mother used the Sultan's fearsome reputation as a constant threat to discipline him.

Mowlana, in this segment of the Masnavi, cites a narrative from Attar's Musibatnameh to illuminate a fundamental human cognitive flaw: 'inverted perception' (vāruna-bīnī). The story begins with Sultan Mahmud of Ghazni, the bigoted and oppressive warrior who, during his reign, suppressed dissenters, burned books, destroyed idols in his Indian campaigns, and famously betrayed the great Ferdowsi. His fearsome reputation was such that mothers in India would curse their rebellious children, exclaiming, 'May you fall into the hands of Mahmud Arsalan (meaning, the Lion)!' This curse encapsulated the people's profound fear of the Sultan.

During one of these campaigns, a beautiful Indian boy fell into the Sultan's possession. Mahmud, known for his 'amradbāzi'—a preference for beautiful boys whom he would elevate—took this child, seated him beside himself on the throne, and showered him with lavish kindness. Yet, despite all this favor and honor, the boy wept bitterly. The Sultan asked why he cried, given his elevated status. The boy's answer is precisely the verse in question: 'My mother would always threaten me with your name, saying: 'May I see you fallen into the hands of Mahmud Arsalan!'' He recounted, in utter astonishment and nostalgic regret, how his mother always used the Sultan's name to frighten him, completely unaware that the very man she portrayed as a terror was so kind and noble. His father, he added, would even scold his mother, saying, 'Did you have no worse curse? You've killed this poor soul with a hundred swords!'

Mowlana, after narrating this tale, draws a profound spiritual analogy, revealing the key to its understanding in 'inverted perception': "Poverty (faqr) is your Mahmud, oh constricted one / Your nature (ṭab'a) always frightens you away from it." In this allegory, Sultan Mahmud symbolizes faqr—not material poverty, but spiritual destitution, meaning detachment from worldly attachments and humility before absolute Truth. This faqr, initially, like Mahmud of Ghazni, appears terrifying. Our ṭab'a—our carnal desires and natural inclinations that beckon us to comfort and ease—like the mother in the story, constantly frightens us away from this faqr, as if speaking of a calamity or misfortune. Our ṭab'a warns us against releasing attachments, against asceticism, against forsaking immediate pleasures, perceiving it as suffering and loss.

Yet, faqr, in truth, is a ladder to the soul's elevation and progress. If a person reaches that station and becomes intimately acquainted with the "mercy of this generous Mahmud" (i.e., the kindness of noble faqr), then they will earnestly wish, "May the end be Mahmud!"—meaning, 'Oh, if only my destiny would lead me into the embrace of this faqr,' for this is the true honor and high station that guides the soul toward Truth. This is the child's cry of wonder and joy when seated on Mahmud's throne.

Thus, this verse critiques our superficial perception of spiritual realities and the dominance of ṭab'a over us. The 'mother' (ṭab'a), though she 'nurtures our body,' is "yet a greater enemy than a hundred foes," for she keeps us at an animalistic, instinctual level, impeding spiritual growth and maturity. "When the body falls ill, it drives you to seek medicine / But when it gains strength, it makes you a tyrant (ṭāghūt)." Mowlana illustrates that the body and its desires, whether in weakness or strength, constantly divert humans from the path of moderation and virtue. Embracing faqr and detachment is a way to transcend these limitations and attain the true 'Mahmud' of existence.

Key takeaways

• Our fears and hopes often stem from an 'inverted perception' (vāruna-bīnī) and a misapprehension of true realities.
• What our lower self (ṭab'a) fears (spiritual poverty or faqr) can, in fact, be the ladder to the soul's ascent.
• Arrogance and tyranny (both inner and outer) are products of an unguided and overly strong ṭab'a.
• Emancipation from the false threats of ṭab'a and reaching the embrace of truth leads to the child's tearful joy on the king's throne.
• The 'mother' (ṭab'a), though nurturing the body, can be more dangerous than a hundred enemies if clung to excessively.
• One must look beyond the apparent terror of phenomena to uncover their inner merciful reality.